It’s been a whirlwind of firsts for the first-year Class of 2026, starting with Opening Day on Aug. 31 right on through to the first classes of the academic year a week later.

In between were AESOP trips, the first meetings of First-Year Seminars, and Convocation, marking the official opening of the academic year.

After a damp morning of moving in, the clouds broke and students and their families enjoyed a picnic lunch in the sun.

By mid-afternoon, campus puddles were gone, and everyone headed to the Historic Quad to hear welcomes from Leigh Weisenberger, vice president for enrollment and dean of admission and financial aid, President Clayton Spencer.

“Whatever path has brought you here, I want to welcome you to �ֲ���ý with joy, and warmth, and arms wide open,” she said. “Students, I wish you all good things as you meet your classmates and your professors, and settle in. Families, safe travels home.”

After goodbyes and hugs, and some tears, the Class of 2026 got ready for the myriad experiences awaiting them.

Thursday and Friday were spent getting a taste of academics in First-Year Seminar gatherings. Then came with three days and two nights of AESOP adventures on and off campus, the first overnight trips since 2019.

All compass points were covered: north to Baxter State Park, west to the White Mountains, east to Acadia National Park, and south to Portland. Not to mention nearby trips, to Nezinscot Farm and Lewiston-Auburn itself, exploring the Androscoggin River and the Great Falls, Museum L-A, and the Basilica of St. Peter and Paul.

Surfing, knitting, drawing and painting, and digging potatoes were just a few of the activities they enjoyed, reflecting a re-designed AESOP program, including affinity-based trips, to make AESOP more accessible and inclusive.

Opening Day for the 520 members of the Class of 2026 dawned cloudy and rainy and ended sunny and warm. Nuff said! Here’s how it went down, hour by hour.

8:10 a.m. Keep on truckin’

New �ֲ���ý parents Kirk Daulerio and Adrienne Shibles ‘91 emerge from their pickup truck outside Lane Hall. Their daughter is Elsa Daulerio ‘26 of Harpswell, Maine. One of the all-time great �ֲ���ý basketball players, Shibles is the head coach of the Dartmouth women’s team.

8:27 a.m. Say cheese!

Don’t forget to capture the moment! From left, Jill Einstein snaps a pic of her daughter, Amanda Yolles ’26 of Bel Tiburon, Calif., and her roommates, Zara Ahmed of Burlington, Mass., and Maia Schifman of Minneapolis shortly after arriving in Room 404, a triple in Page Hall.

8:35 a.m. Fist-bump

Out in the hall to assemble a storage unit, Peter Yolles P ‘26 fist bumps Jimmy Ndayikengurukiye ‘25 of Glendale, Ariz., who is helping out as a student member of the Residence Life team.

Nervousness, accomplishment, and a little relief echo with everyone. “I’m relieved, and also sort of excited, but like you want to throw up at the same time,” says Kacie Lutz. She and her husband, Bob Lutz, are dropping off their daughter, Riley Lutz ’26. They flew from Florida to Boston, then took off for �ֲ���ý early in the morning for move-in.

9:03 a.m. Need a hand?

Marcos Pacheco Soto ’24 of Santiago, Chile, and Starr Bradley ’25 of Houston, carry first-year students’ belongings into Page Hall.

The most common question being asked is, “Where do I park?” says Abby Ryan ’21, an assistant dean of admission. “They’re coming in spurts, but everyone’s happy to be here.” Upon arrival, students and their parents are surprised by how many people are willing to help, and how smooth the process is.

Students helping out on Opening Day come from far and wide. Some are Junior Advisors and Residence Coordinators. Others pitch in as needed throughout orientation as Orientation Week Leaders. Also on hand are student leaders of the outdoor trips, known as AESOP, that will begin in a few days. Plus members of Bobcat sports teams.

As cars arrive, the helpers swing into action with two key questions: “What room number?” and “Do you need any help?”

Soon, big appliance boxes are hoisted over shoulders, giant IKEA bags full to bursting are lugged inside, and trash cans full of anything but trash somehow make their way from car to room without many major spills.

“It just got busy,” says Marianne Nolan Cowan ’92, associate director of program design for the Center for Purposeful Work. She’s helping direct the cars on Alumni Walk and keep things in some semblance of order.

One parent watches as the luggage is taken inside by helpers, and comments, “Maybe I’ll finish my breakfast then,” and then stands indecisively halfway in and halfway out of his Subaru Outback, tinfoil-wrapped breakfast sandwich in one hand.

Energy is high, and the tapering off of the rain is letting them catch their breath, and giving some space for some of the other emotions besides excitement. “There are a lot of smiles, and some tears,” Ryan adds.

9:09 a.m. Group effort

Page Hall’s greeting team gathers outside for a mid-move portrait, after a rush of early students.

“We’re almost done, really early. We had an 8 a.m. rush, but now it’s calmed down,” says Charlotte Gisborne ’25 of Bishop’s Stortford, England.

“We were all fighting over who gets to carry the pillows and blankets, and who gets a lower floor,” they laugh. 

Two standout moments: one family who packed entirely with IKEA bags, and the time a minifridge got stuck in the elevator.

9:17 a.m. Unlocking a new door

As cars are unloaded and rooms are filled, the new students are on their way back from Commons, where they have picked up their IDs, keys and other �ֲ���ý gear. Kelly McKaige ‘26 of Seattle, Wash., holds up his newly-obtained room key, a vital addition to his key ring (and �ֲ���ý-emblazoned lanyard).

Other goodies they grab are: a laundry card, a reusable mug, and a campus map.

9:27 a.m. Sign of the times

Handmade signs are the M.O. for the day, made at a pre-arrival party by the students who returned to campus early to help the new feel welcomed as they move in.

Linnea Selendy ’23 (left) of New York City and Eva Wu ’25 of Shenzhen, China, greet arriving students and their families as they pull up in their vehicles on the Alumni Walk side of Commons.

At Adams Hall, Alaina Rauf ’25 of Yarmouth, Maine, welcomes cars with a sparkly, sticker-laden sign. “We all got together with the JAs and made signs earlier. I just finished this one. It was so fun! We had music, and Dunkin’, and it was great.”

Things are pretty calm at Adams Hall, “but it’ll only get busier from here,” Rauf laughs. There was a rush of arrivals, all fourth floor residents, so “we were carrying tons of mini fridges, and the elevators are being really slow today.”

But at least the rain has stopped, since “weather affects the mood for sure,” she says.

10:03 a.m. Athletic ability

Moving in is a campus-wide effort, and everyone pitches in. After early-morning varsity practices conclude, even more Bobcats join the effort. “They’re making everyone feel welcome,” says Nina Carter, a junior adviser at Adams Hall.

Having finished football practice (he’s an offensive lineman), Cole De Magistris ‘24, a double major in economics and rhetoric, film, and screen studies from Emerson, N.J., shoulders a suitcase into Kalperis Hall.

10:22 a.m. It takes a village

Rooms are a blank slate, and students are more than ready to make the spaces their own. Sreeni Kamal ‘26 of Tyngsboro, Mass., sets up her room in Chu Hall with the help of her sister Varsha Kamal, 11, and parents Kamal G. and Preetha Ponras.

Maddie Smith ’26, from Freeport, Maine, came with her parents. “I’m excited to set up my room and decorate it. I was expecting it to rain and thunder all day, but it cleared up and I’m really thankful.”

11:13 a.m. The presidential welcome

President Clayton Spencer takes a moment to pose with students outside Parker Hall during Move-In Day, as upbeat music pours from speakers.

Further down on Alumni Walk, the �ֲ���ý welcome is loud and clear as a streamer-laden golf cart rolls by, two students yelling “Welcome to �ֲ���ý!” along the way.

11:26 a.m. Hello, stranger

Two new roommates on either side of the room, with �ֲ���ý at the center. Mario Ferra ‘26 of Manchester, N.H., Ali Minhas ‘26 of Palo Alto, Calif., will share this space in Parker Hall for the year.

11:32 a.m. Rolling out the welcome mat

Trinity Poon ‘26 (whose feet are at left) of Sandwich, Mass., brought this welcome mat for the Parker Hall room she’s sharing with her roommate, Tamrin Ghai ‘26 (whose feet at at right) of New York City.

11:35 a.m. Make way for deans!

Associate Dean of Students for Residence Life and Health Education Molly Newton ‘11 rolls down Alumni Walk on a Razor scooter, her standard fair-weather mode of transportation around campus.

11:36 a.m. Heading to lunch

After moving in, a student takes a look at all that’s new as she walks with her family down Alumni Walk toward Commons and a barbecue lunch.

But for at least one student, moving in was nothing new.

Sanae Hagino ’26 of Newtown Square, Pa., arrived at �ֲ���ý as a first-student last year, shortly after a severe ankle injury. Soon after arriving on campus, she decided to take a gap year. “That was a good idea,” she says. “I feel ready now.”

“So ready,” echoes her mother, Grace Ashton, who is having the unique experience of dropping her child off for the first time, again. “We’re so comfortable on campus already.”

3:04 p.m. A spot of sunshine

Following lunch (and maybe a nap?), families gathered on the Historic Quad for a welcome from President Spencer and Vice President for Enrollment and Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Leigh Weisenburger.

3:31 p.m. Welcoming Words

The morning showers gave way to a brilliant late-summer afternoon as Spencer and Weisenburger welcome everyone.

“A �ֲ���ý liberal arts education prizes the relationship between knowledge and values,” said Spencer. “The most important goal of a liberal arts education is not the accumulation of information and skills; rather it is meant to create the conditions under which you will become agents of your own destiny, possessing the knowledge, insights, and confidence to figure out what you want to do with your life and how your wish to move through the world. We are here to walk along with you on this journey.”

3:43 p.m. A Hug for the Road

Then it was time for family goodbyes. Bella Saul ‘26 of Brooklyn says goodbye to parents Sophia Scantlebury and Jon Saul.

3:45 p.m. It runs in the family

Goodbyes can involve extended �ֲ���ý families. Here, Paul Scola says goodbye to his nephew, George Peacock ‘26. Nearby were George’s parents, Brad Peacock ’92 and Tracey O’Mara Peacock ’94.

Scola’s own first-year son, Sam ’26 of San Mateo, Calif., was also close by as the families said their goodbyes. And, both Sam and George have �ֲ���ý siblings.

Outdoor trips as part of new-student orientation are nothing new. Into the mid-1900s, new �ֲ���ý students spent an off-campus day with Harry Rowe to hear the avuncular dean recount �ֲ���ý tales of old.

Today, the off-campus trips are collectively known as AESOP: “Annual Entering Student Orientation Program.”

AESOP is based in the college’s Student Affairs Office and annually led by three student coordinators. Its mission is simple enough: “To engage and empower every incoming �ֲ���ý student to be their authentic selves through off-campus, student-led orientation programs.”

Mission simple, but the execution is eclectic, fun, and full of what students love: hanging out and getting to know each other.

Typically, outdoor orientation programs are all about the great outdoors: hiking, biking, climbing, kayaking, and otherwise navigating the ups and downs of mountains and lakes and everything in between.

And, for those inclined toward nature, they’re a blast. With an eye on achieving greater equity and inclusivity, the AESOP program leaders have brainstormed and deployed new trips in order to broaden the program.

“We’ve spent the past year curating this year’s programming to reflect the diverse needs and interests of the entire first-year class,” explained senior Alix Zabin of Greenwich, Conn., one of three coordinators along with Erik Malm of Batavia, Ill., and Jack Fruechte of Edina, Minn.

So while this year had the traditional trips like hiking Franconia Ridge and kayaking the Damariscotta River, there were also opportunities to paint riverfront scenes along the Androscoggin, create a movie in 48 hours, find their way out of a Portland escape room, visit local farms, and generally explore the downtown area.

“We’re just running up and down stairs and meeting people left and right,” said Tasha Kaluzynski ’22 of Bethany, Conn., outside Milliken House, where she’s a Junior Advisor.

“It’s overwhelming, but a good time!”

Aug. 23 was Opening Day for the Class of 2025, and Kaluzynski and her 61 fellow Junior Advisors and Residence Coordinators were deep into the meat and potatoes of their work as Residence Life paraprofessionals: meeting and greeting the 555 members of the Class of 2025.

RCs and JAs live and work with fellow students in the college’s 30 residences. Often seniors, Residence Coordinators focus on the living experiences of the sophomores, juniors and seniors in their residence. Junior Advisors work specifically with groups of 12 to 20 new students in what are called First-Year Centers.

“That’s why I do this work as a senior, because that experience really inspired me as a first-year.”

Trained by the Office of Residence Life and Health Education, JAs are mentors, guides, role models, and organizers who “help connect students, especially first-years, to the �ֲ���ý experience in whatever way is authentic to them,” says Assistant Director of Residence Life Eddie Szeman.

And everwhere one turned on Opening Day, there was advice on how to start off on the right foot.

“It is scary at the beginning,” says Oliver Barrera ’22 of Waukegan Ill., an RC at historic Parker Hall, the college’s very first residence hall, opened in 1857.

“But if you put yourself out there, people will welcome you with open hands. And that’s the best part of the �ֲ���ý community, as we see today: People are here to help you and people want to build a community with you.

“And that’s why I do this work as a senior, because that experience really inspired me as a first-year.”

Many having chosen �ֲ���ý without ever visiting campus, the 555 members of the Class of 2025 arrived on Thursday afternoon.

“The number of you that said ‘yes’ to �ֲ���ý sight unseen is unprecedented and admirable,” said Leigh Weisenburger, vice president for enrollment and dean of admission and financial aid, as she and President Clayton Spencer welcomed the Class of 2025 on Thursday afternoon.

Due to the pandemic, the campus was closed to Admission visitors from March 2020 until earlier this summer. Thus the entire Class of 2025 recruitment cycle was done virtually: virtual tours, virtual information sessions and interviews, and virtual admitted-student events.

“Seeing you live in front of my eyes feels unique, surreal — and so, so special.”

Following a whirlwind morning of getting COVID tests, securing �ֲ���ý IDs, and moving in, the new students, joined by their families and loved ones, gathered on the Historic Quad in front of Coram Library shortly after 3 p.m. for the traditional welcome.

Most avoided the sunny seats close to the Coram porch on the very hot day, choosing seats farther back, under the shade of trees.

“Seeing you live in front of my eyes feels unique, surreal — and so, so special,” said Weisenburger.

In her remarks, Spencer seconded that emotion. “They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she said. “But that is not my experience. For me, it is presence, proximity, and the sharing of daily rhythms that deepens the bond between human beings.” 

And while the new students are not yet into any kind of daily rhythm, their arrival was a crescendo moment. Indeed, the beat goes on.

Up and Away

Members of the field hockey team were on hand outside of Parker Hall to help move in belongings from the Class of 2025.

Pop In For a Visit

Nathan Huynh ’23 of San Diego, Calif., holds up a welcome sign for those moving into Chu and Kalperis halls on Campus Avenue.

Systems Go

Garrett Glasgow ’25 of Salt Lake City, Utah, offers a thumb up to junior advisers Nissim Gurung ’24 of Pokhara, Nepal, and Lauren Farrell ’24 of Middletown, Conn.

Paisley Pair

Matching masks for mother and daughter as they pose in front of Parker Hall during move-in day. Jenna Perry ’25 of Las Vegas with her mother Tricia Braxton Perry.

All Hands and Hearts

Many hands made light work around campus, including here outside Parker Hall.

Cheer Up

Katia Ryan ’23 of Amsterdam, NY, provides welcome-to-�ֲ���ý energy as new students and their families arrive on Alumni Walk to move into Parker Hall.

Hug and a Smile

Drew Sachs ’25 of Newburyport, Mass., recognizes a family friend upon arrival at his first-year residence, Parker Hall, on Alumni Walk. She is the mother of JB Whiteley ’25 of Tampa, Fla.

Sealing the Deal

An Opening Day tradition: Posing for family photographs on the Coram Libray porch after the president’s welcome.

All in the Family

Eden Coleman ’25 of Newton Center, Mass., poses for a photograph with her family at the conclusion of President Spencer’s welcome address in front of Coram Library. From left: sister Hammond, mother Catrice, Eden, father Kelvin, brother Gideon, and sister Farrah.

Away and Toward

A newly arrived student leaves the Historic Quad with family members after President Spencer delivered her Welcome Address.

Bobcat Nation turned out in force to welcome the 501-member Class of 2023 on Monday.

Student leaders, 184 of them, were everywhere.

�ֲ���ý staff offered various sessions and programs for parents (plus a barbecue for everyone) while other staff took time from their day jobs to help greet families as they arrived at Commons in the morning.

Top it off with President Clayton Spencer pitching in, lugging gear to the fourth floor of Parker in the morning, and welcoming families in the late afternoon.

Follow along as �ֲ���ý Communications photographer Phyllis Graber Jensen, teaming with writers Doug Hubley and Emily McConville, captured the day in words and images.

7:17 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Soon after Opening Day’s 7 a.m. start, vehicles are parked end-to-end outside residence halls and houses all over campus, where they’re swiftly unloaded by dozens of student Orientation leaders.

Here, Peter Gadaleta hands off pillows to Maya Seshan ’20 of Wilton, Conn., as his daughter Brianna Gadaleta ’23 of Chappaqua, N.Y., moves into Page Hall.

7:52 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Otis Caron ’23 gets a hug from his mother, Tammy Roy Caron, as he prepares to head to �ֲ���ý, a move of just a few blocks.

A Lewiston native, Otis is one of 48 first-year students from Maine and four from the Lewiston-Auburn area.

Bright and early (for him), Caron lays his things on the living room sofa — a suitcase, assorted bags, a hamper that doubles as luggage. He’ll make a couple trips in the family car to get moved into Parker Hall.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Among Otis’ items is a blown-up picture of himself and his friend and fellow first-year, Hunter Landry ’23, wearing their Lewiston High School graduation clothes in front of St. Dominic Academy, where they went to elementary school.

In the photo, they’re holding �ֲ���ý admission letters that Tammy, a senior visual designer at �ֲ���ý, redesigned for the class. Otis’ dad, the late David Caron, passed away in 2009.

Otis is no stranger to the �ֲ���ý community. In addition to his mother’s long relationship with the college, he worked for Dining Services’ catering operation in high school and took Russian courses with Associate Professor of Russian Dennis Browne.

Interested in languages and international affairs, he’s eager to start his intermediate Russian courses and his First-Year Seminar, “Japan on Screen.”

Still, on the cusp of moving in, “it’s a whirlwind of emotions,” Otis says. “I’m mostly very excited.”

8:11 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Commons is the first stop for arriving first-years. They’re dropped off on the building’s Central Avenue side and, after, picking up ID cards and handling other check-in duties, they emerge on the other side of the dining hall.

There, three Orientation Week Leaders — from left, Avery MacMullen, Gemma Rubi, and Shae Gwydir, all ’20 — greet them with cheers, dancing, and then, if needed, directions to their dorm.

“OWLs, fly!” a leader proclaims upon seeing a first-year come through the door.

8:17 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

After checking in for his �ֲ���ý ID and dorm room key, Tori Kusukawa ’23 of Salt Lake City, Utah, chats with Brenda Pelletier, conference and campus events manager, in the lobby of Commons.

8:29 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

�ֲ���ý staff join the Opening Day team. Here, Alicia Rea, associate director of annual giving in the Office of College Advancement, helps out a family as they arrive on Central Avenue outside Commons.

8:34 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Adelaide Armah ’23 of Accra, Ghana, receives directions from President Clayton Spencer, who welcomed incoming members of the Class of 2023 as they arrived to sign in at Commons on Central Avenue.

8:38 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Outside Commons, Jared O’Hare ’23 of Hamden, Conn., at right, runs into Kenny Aruwajoye ‘22 of Owo, Nigeria. The two are alumni of Avon (Conn.) Old Farms School.

O’Hara’s parents Judy and Kevin, meanwhile, are still marveling at how fast student Orientation leaders worked when the family pulled up to the dorm. “Within two minutes, everything was up in the room,” Kevin says.

Jake is looking forward to taking two philosophy courses, in contrast to the scarcity of electives at the high school level. “I never had the opportunity to branch out,” he says. “The new academic freedom is nice.”

8:46 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

After greeting students outside Commons, President Spencer heads across campus to help student leaders lug belongings into Parker Hall (in this case, to the fourth floor).

8:50 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Amanda Waugh hoists a mirror as she helps son Jack Cantor ’23 of Chevy Chase, Md., move into his Parker Hall residence.

9:33 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Roommates Jackson Chung ’23 of Nyack, N.Y., and Nathan Berry ’23 of Augusta, Maine, hug the wall as a fellow first-year hauls his belongings up the Parker staircase. The new roommates were on their way down to move Berry’s belongings into the room, where Chung had already settled.

It’s about as close to an assembly line as you can get in a college dorm.

When a new �ֲ���ý family’s car pulls in front of Parker Hall, a swarm of OWLs descends, grabbing boxes and suitcases and minifridges and hauling them up flights of stairs, pausing just long enough to get the first-year’s room number.

Cars stay on Alumni Walk for just the time needed to unload; if one lingers longer, a security employee politely asks a parent or relative to move it.

9:05 a.m.

“This is a really big dorm!” exclaims Gabi Meisel ’23 of Chevy Chase, Md., as she sees her room on the fourth floor of Parker Hall. Indeed, in most rooms there’s plenty of room for beds and desks without the need for lofting or bunking.

Gabi gets to the room first; her parents, Deb and David Meisel, are not far behind. Gabi pulls out one unusual item she’s brought from home: a big photo collage shaped like the letter G, a present from her aunt.

Like the O’Haras, Gabi’s parents are still amazed by the efficiency and friendliness of the student and staff volunteers, and they’re impressed with the community their daughter has already found in the swim team, which she’s soon to join.

And Gabi herself? After all the campus visits and applications and scouting and decisions, she’s relieved to finally be here. “This is where I need to be,” she says.

9:43 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Over at Chu Hall, the stream of cars has slowed to a trickle, giving the student Orientation leaders some time to breathe…or do some eye-high kicks for a photographer.

J’Von Ortiz-Cedeno ’22, at left in the photograph, is a junior advisor from Portland, Texas. Ortiz-Cedeno and other JAs serve as peer advisors in residence halls for groups of first-year students.

He says Opening Day is about the “little things” — carrying boxes, making rounds to introduce himself to each first-year as they move in, sharing songs that he solicited from his new residents over the summer.

“I’m making it feel like a place where they can spend four years and be happy,” he says.

Then: “We got a car!” shouts another student leader, and Ortiz-Cedeno is off.

10:02 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Mason Bunker ’23 of New York City enjoys a hug from his father Dan Bunker.

10:15 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Parents Mayu and Kimi Nakamura (right) help their daughter Ayano ’23 (left) of Bethesda, Md., settle into her Chu Hall room.

Behind them is roommate Lia Silberberg ’23 of Jackson, Wyo., who had arrived earlier with her brother, Adam, who is a senior at Bowdoin.

For Silberberg, setting up her room was the last leg of a long journey for the siblings — from Wyoming to New York, then a drive up the coast to Bowdoin, where Adam is a senior, then, finally, to �ֲ���ý. Finishing the setup, they gratefully accepted a �ֲ���ý custodian’s offer to take away broken-down boxes for recycling.

Silberberg, who is interested in law, is looking forward to taking a biomedical ethics course and, maybe, joining club ice hockey.

As she settled in, Nakamura is asked if she brought anything special from home. In response, she pulls out Rirakuma, a stuffed bear designed in the style of Japanese animation.

Nakamura also has a brother close by — a lot closer, in fact.

Taihei Nakamura, a university student in Japan, is on campus for the year as a Hirasawa Scholar, participating in �ֲ���ý’ historic program named after Kazushige Hirasawa ’36 that brings Japanese university students to campus for one year.

Taihei, though, is in next-door Kalperis Hall. “We requested different dorms,” Ayano says.

10:31 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Asked if he brought any favorite thing to �ֲ���ý, Chas Van Damme ’23 (left) of Harpswell, Maine, pointed to his older brother Henry, right, who helped him move in. The two compete for height bragging rights as Chas arrives in his Kalperis Hall room.

10:43 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

At this moment in this room, the count is six: Joanna Atwater ’23 of Short Hills, N.J., shown with her mom, Bernadette; plus Joanna’s dad, James, and her roommate, Molly Connors ’23 of Westwood, Mass., and Molly’s two younger siblings.

Despite the crowd, there’s generally enough room to move around.

Both Atwater (tennis) and Connors (rowing) are gearing up for the start of their athletics programs and have brought their favorite snacks from home. Connors has supplemented the usual dorm decorations with a succulent, a fern, and a bamboo plant.

Like most, Atwater has been impressed with the efficiency of student Orientation leaders. The move-in is “not as hectic as I thought it would be,” she says.

That leaves more time to focus on tennis and her first classes, which include a biology course on emerging and re-emerging infectious diseases.

11:19 a.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Carolyne Chepkemboi ’23 of Nairobi, Kenya, speaks with Laura Conforte of Information and Library Services at the Resources Fair in Pettengill’s Perry Atrium. She’s looking forward to reading more world and U.S. history.

Representing the Harward Center for Community Partnerships is recent graduate Ella Ross ’19, an AmeriCorps volunteer; she says she’s “having major déjà vu.”

Four years after her own Opening Day, Ross remembers the whirlwind of moving in and the dread of saying goodbye to her family at the end of it. The nervousness dissipated in time, and Ross became heavily involved in the Harward Center and the Lewiston-Auburn community, earning an induction into the College Key upon graduation.

With Ross at the Harward Center table is Muskan Verma ’21 of Shimla, India, who as a Bonner leader volunteers frequently through the Harward Center.

Two years ago, Verma’s move-in experience was quite different — she was so jet-lagged that she didn’t feel as deeply the mix of nervousness and excitement that churns through many first-years’ heads.

This year, after being on campus all summer as an Admission intern, it’s like she’s seeing Opening Day for the first time. There’s no jet lag, and all the feels.

“I’ve got tears in my eyes,” she says. “I’m feeling all the things I should have felt in my first year, now.”

12:34 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

After spending the morning moving in, many students and families migrate to the Library Quad, where they can grab classic barbecue fare or, if they want, a nice tofu salad.

Claire Lim ’23, seated under a tree with parents Adrienne and Dominic, is enjoying the relatively cool weather — she’s from tropical Singapore, and she specifically looked for a college in a cold climate. She’s interested in studying economics, and she’s excited about her First-Year Seminar on inequality, community, and social change.

Adrienne Lim says she thought it might be tough to say goodbye to Claire. But “seeing the close-knit community, it’s not going to be too painful to leave her today.”

1:07 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Kian Moaledj ’20 of Doha, Qatar, and his mother, Maryam Moaledj, speak with James Reese, associate dean for international student programs, during the International Circle Students and Parents Group Greeting in the Fireplace Lounge of Commons.

In his welcome, Reese explains that the definition of “international student” is broader than statistics might suggest.

Around 150 �ֲ���ý students are considered international students, meaning they are in the U.S. on a student visa.

But, he adds, more than twice that number are dual citizens or have some other fundamental connection with another country.

And all, Reese says, can benefit from the college’s international student programs. “If you’re wondering if you’re in or out, nobody’s out. Everyone’s in.”

1:43 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Topher Castaneda ’20 of Los Angeles, who is a residence coordinator at Turner House this year, dives into a Bobcatnap in front of Commons.

2:45 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Grace Warder ’20, an environmental studies major from New York City, hands a key piece of overnight gear — a fork— to a first-year during equipment checkout for the mid-week Orientation program known as AESOP.

AESOP is a four-day, three-night overnight Orientation program offering everything from hiking and surfing to community service, farm visits, and arts exploration in Maine and New Hampshire. Warder is one three AESOP coordinators.

This year’s AESOP program offers 57 outdoor trips, each led by two upperclass leaders.

“I loved AESOP,” says Ellie Beckerman ’22, an environmental studies major from Washington, D.C., who is leading a backpacking trip to Franconia Notch. Last year, her own first-year AESOP destination was Mahoosuc Notch.

“Spending four days with a small group, including upperclassmen, means that when you’re done, you can remain a group for a bit until you start to find your niche at �ֲ���ý. It’s really hard coming in as a first-year and not quite knowing where you fit in, and AESOP gives you a group and a space very early on at �ֲ���ý.”

2:46 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Lilah Lesniak ’22 of Philadelphia and Will Sylvia ’20 of Newtonville, Mass., juggle sleep bags during the equipment handout for AESOP outside Chase Hall.�� Will is the son of Jim Sylvia ’84 and Lori Rogers Sylvia ’83.

2:57 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Emily DiBartolo ’23 of Florence, Mass., strikes a pose for parents John and Patty on the steps of Coram, a prime location for countless family photographs all afternoon.

So, what happens if Emily — or any other �ֲ���ý first-year — calls home in a few weeks, worried that they may never be able to pursue a certain career because of a bad grade or two?

What advice might be relevant for that student?

“I hear this a lot from students — I’ll have students literally sitting in my office crying, saying, ‘Well, I thought I wanted to be a psychologist, but look what I did in Psych 101,’” Rebecca Fraser-Thill, director of faculty outreach for Purposeful Work and a visiting instructor in psychology, told parents in the workshop “Your Evolving Relationship: Parenting a College Student.”

“But when you’re applying for jobs, transcripts really aren’t a huge part of that process, honestly. Certainly, being a diligent, conscientious worker plays a big role in what kind of references you get from faculty members.

“But I will say I’ve given some glowing references to students who weren’t my A students by any means, because they were creative thinkers, they’re bringing a lot of enthusiasm into the classroom, and we’re speaking on a regular basis and thinking in new and novel ways.” ��

3:13 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Linden Jones ’22 of Leicester, N.C., leads a campus tour along one of the walkways on the Historic Quad.

3:50 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

“Each and every one of you is an innovator and an inventor with an entrepreneurial drive on your path to �ֲ���ý,” Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Leigh Weisenburger tells the first-years during her Opening Day welcome.

“All of you are coming to �ֲ���ý with this palpable intellectual curiosity, generosity of spirit, and an authentic and compassionate welcoming way about you. Again, we are so, so proud of you. … We look forward to knowing each and every one of you and watching you flourish over the coming years.”

4:02 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

A parent listens to President Clayton’s two-part Opening Day welcome.

Part one is for parents, in which Spencer acknowledge the high emotions of the day. “So, kids, be nice to your parents today. It’s hard to let you go,” she says.

Part two is for the students. Here, Spencer asks the first-years “to risk letting go,” to “stop holding fast to the things that got you here — the narrative that you’ll major in pre-med or econ even if you’ve never taken a course in pre-med or econ; the identities that have defined you throughout high school.”

Why? “A residential liberal arts education, more than almost any kind of experience you will have, gives you the opportunity to explore, to try new things, to take risks. But it’s up to you to seize this opportunity.”

4:19 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Oliver Kaplan ’23 of Los Angeles poses with parents Lauren Tom and Curt Kaplan in front of Coram.

4:35 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Following President Spencer’s welcome, it’s close to farewells. Lena Soares ‘23 of Memphis, Tenn., shares a moment on the Library Terrace with her mother, Kathy Steuer.

4:36 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Nearby, Maeve Mikulski ’23 of Western Springs, Ill., shares a moment with her parents Mike and Jayne Mikulski on the Library Terrace. Maeve is Lena Soares’ roommate.

4:38 p.m.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Opening Day is an multigenerational emotion-filled day. Najá Crockett ’23 of Washington, D.C., welcomes a hug from mother Florence Kreisman and grandmother Elena Kreisman.

As �ֲ���ý professors lined up for Convocation last week, we asked a few what they’re excited to teach this fall.

In sum, they told us about some things old, some things new, and some things renewed.

In his second year at �ֲ���ý, Assistant Professor of English José Villagrana is teaching a new course, “Milton and the English Civil War.”

John Milton, of course, is a canonical figure in literature. By looking at Milton’s writings through the lens of the English Civil War (1642–51), Villagrana’s students can make fresh connections to “timely discourses on revolution, armed conflict, and the role of free speech and censorship.”

In his second year at �ֲ���ý, Assistant Professor of English José Villagrana is teaching a new course, “Milton and the English Civil War.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Lecturer in Anthropology Kristen Barnett looks forward to teaching her two sections of “Introduction to Archaeology.”��She began teaching the course three years ago and has completely overhauled it.

Now the course focuses more attention on concepts of social justice, ethics, and “tensions between Indigenous communities and the archaeological community,” she explains. The course will also delve into questions of how certain colonizing practices are “established and perpetuated through archaeology.”

A �ֲ���ý faculty member since 1991, Professor of Physics Hong Lin is trying something new this year: teaching one of the department’s upper-level courses, “Electrodynamics.”

“It will be my first time teaching this course, but I love the topic,” she says. Lin has taught a similar course, “Electricity and Magnetism,” which covers the material at a lower level. “It will be good to help students see the topic in more depth,” she says.

Lecturer in Anthropology Kristen Barnett has revamped the introductory archaeology course. (Jay Burns/�ֲ���ý College)

In one of 39 First-Year Seminars, which are geared toward the college’s newest students, Professor of Anthropology Elizabeth Eames will teach “Disney Demystified: Race, Gender, and Sexuality in the Magic Kingdom.”

Popular culture being what it is, “we all have a bit of Disney in us,” Eames says. In other words, “Disney is a cultural text. And from that text, we can discern America’s beliefs and values. And we can unearth the cultural politics embedded in Disney productions.”

Professor of Psychology Georgia Nigro is teaching “Community-Based Research Methods.” Offered in a variety of disciplines, methods courses give students a chance to exercise their emerging research skills.

This fall, Nigro says, her 18 students “are going to learn with a community partner, the .” The institute is working closely with the Lewiston School Department, which is seeking to infuse .

Professor of Psychology Georgia Nigro is teaching a course that will support efforts to introduce restorative justice practices in Lewiston public schools. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

“My students will look at data already collected from teachers, who are working to be more restorative in their practices,” Nigro says. Restorative justice tries to “replace the old-fashioned punitive disciplinary practices with practices that repair the harm.”

Raj Saha ’03, a lecturer in geology and physics, is eager to teach his First-Year Seminar, “The Living Planet,” and hopes his students are ready for a surprise.

Raj Saha ’03, a lecturer in geology and physics, is teaching a First-Year Seminar, “The Living Planet.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

In its examination of intricate connections among the Earth’s living systems, the course sits “at the intersection of math, science, environmental studies, and social justice,” he says.

It might surprise these new �ֲ���ý students, he says, “that there is scientific basis for concepts that we often label as moral or ethical, such as the need for diversity, what diversity does in an ecosystem, and how you can translate these qualities to society in general — what makes us more resilient.”

Su Langdon, a lecturer in psychology, is excited to have more time to teach “Principles of Psychology.”

Drawing from the tenets of problem-based learning, the course uses “consider scenarios,” in which students look at real-life situations from psychological perspectives. For example, how do gymnasts and other athletes accomplish complex motoric tasks? Why do we feel “all gooey inside” when we think about someone we’re attracted to?

Having taught the course a “gazillion times,” Langdon wanted the flexibility to add a few more scenarios, including ones her students suggested. To do so, “I needed to reclaim some time,” she said. “To be more creative, I needed about a week.”

Working with the Accessible Education and Student Support office — to ensure that the changes met the needs of all her students — Langdon moved the course’s traditional in-class exams to online exams, outside of class.

And presto: A whole week of new time!

Text of the 2018 Convocation address, “Questions for �ֲ���ý,” by Associate Professor of History Joseph Hall, delivered on Sept. 4:

Good morning. Happy New Year.

I want to begin with a few words of thanks, first of all to Walter for such wonderful remarks. You have a gifted classmate.

I want to also thank the Wabanaki peoples and the homelands that we sit and stand on, and the people whose labor has made our conversation today possible, including the sign language interpreters who are turning the words that you hear into words that you can see.

I’d like to thank the Class of 2018 for nominating me for this opportunity to speak with you all. I’m sorry they’re not here for me to extend my thanks in person, but it is truly an honor, and I am grateful to them for it.

I’d like to thank two students in particular, Tim Larson from the Class of 2005, and Emma Soler, who’s from the Class of 2020, both of whom have done important research that makes a lot of what I’m going to be talking about today possible.

To Caitlin Lampman, Michelle Belden, and Pat Webber, who all work in the �ֲ���ý Muskie Archives and Special Collections, for providing access to the history that I’m going to be talking about. And last of all, of course, to you all for being here. It’s a pleasure to be here with you. I want to extend a warm welcome to all of you who are new, whether you’re in the Class of 2022 or new faculty or new staff. I hope your time here at �ֲ���ý is much more than you expect.

Although I am certainly grateful for the chance to be here to speak with you all, I have to admit that I’m a little bit frustrated by the conventions that bring us here.

We all decided to come to �ֲ���ý because it’s an institution that prides itself on small scale conversation, whether in our classrooms, dormitories, or departments and programs. Yet you as the Class of 2022 are going to begin and end your academic careers here dutifully listening to people garbed in velvet robes, standing behind large wooden lecterns, and not really having much of a conversation.

It’s not that I’m really opposed to velvet and wood. It’s not even necessarily that I’m opposed to lectures with large audiences. The problem is that what really excites me about being here with you all is the chance to actually to get to know you and to talk with you. The reason those conversations are particularly interesting is because within that intimacy, we have the opportunity to learn from each other but also, as in our mission statement, “to engage the transformative power of our differences.”

This kind of lecture, frankly, is not the kind of format where I’m expecting that we’re getting much in terms of intimacy or engagement. Let me just say right at the beginning, I don’t really care what you think about what I’m about to say. I am very interested in hearing what you want to do with what I have to say. What I want to do is think about questions, which are at the heart of any good conversation.

I’d like to think about what a question is — at its heart, it’s about a quest; that’s at the root of the word. The Latin quaerere, or quest, is at the heart of a number of words that we think about with questions, such as “query” or “inquiry.” The Latin quaerare means to seek or to inform oneself, to ask, but I want to think about “question” in terms of that idea of quest. When the Middle English used that word, they were invoking a certain kind of judicial understanding. You see that in the way we use the word “inquest,” or even “Inquisition.”

I’ll bet no one was expecting that. In asking questions, it’s incredibly important that we remember that a quest for knowledge should not simply be a quest to prove yourself right, a quest to conduct an inquisition that seeks to stamp out ideas that differ from your own. To be inquisitive, not inquisitorial, is what I’m talking about here.

I also want to make clear that I think every question has the potential to lead to something big, to have something big at stake. I’m a firm believer, as I think are almost all of my colleagues, that there is no such thing as a stupid question. I’m sure many of you have heard that injunction many times. Many of you might, in fact, not believe it, because you think you’ve heard stupid questions and maybe even asked a stupid question. But let me ask you to think about it this way: If a question is an adventure or a journey, if it’s a quest, and if every journey of 1,000 miles begins with one step, then the converse means that every step has the potential to begin a journey of 1,000 miles — which is to say, every question has the potential to hold some much bigger questions at stake.

Let me put this in terms of a question that I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’m going to need you to use your hands here.

How many of you have heard that �ֲ���ý College was founded by Oren Cheney, who was an abolitionist?

All right, so many of you have. If you haven’t, that’s totally fine, but now you have. Oren Cheney was an important founder of �ֲ���ý College. He was a Free Will Baptist. He believed deeply in the equality of all people, such that he believed that anyone should be admitted to what was, in 1855, the Maine State Seminary, regardless of their racial or gender backgrounds.

A second question. How many of you know that �ֲ���ý College is named after Benjamin �ֲ���ý, an industrialist who established the textile mills in downtown Lewiston?

All right, you guys are warming up. This is good. It’s in 1864 that Benjamin �ֲ���ý is going to give the first $10,000 of what would eventually be a $200,000 set of gifts to Oren Cheney, so that the Maine State Seminary could become a liberal arts college named after Benjamin �ֲ���ý.

Third question. How many of you know that the cotton textiles that Benjamin �ֲ���ý and others are weaving in Lewiston are going to be made, until 1865, from cotton that is grown by enslaved people in the south of the United States?

Okay, so maybe not as many. That is, in a sense, an indication of some of the ways we talk about our history in this country.

These three questions are at the heart of what I think is perhaps, by now, an obvious question: If Oren Cheney was an abolitionist, deeply opposed to slavery, and Benjamin �ֲ���ý was making his money weaving cotton grown by enslaved people, why was Oren Cheney taking �ֲ���ý’ money?

And what does that mean for us?

�ֲ���ý founder Oren Cheney

We can start with Cheney’s own diary, which, fortunately, you can find in the Muskie Archives. It’s really a wonderful little artifact. It’s about three inches by five inches, a small leather-bound thing that he could stick in his pocket. When you open it, on each page would be the seven days of the week — Monday through Wednesday on one side, then Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday on the other page.

There’s only one year of this diary that still exists, which for me, is a fascinating question. For a man who keeps a diary so often — and we know that he did keep other diaries — why is there only one still remaining? The fact is, because it’s 1864, we have a chance to find out a little bit of what he thought when he first talked with Benjamin �ֲ���ý about that first $10,000 gift that would make the seminary into a college. I want to read to you from that important day when Cheney and �ֲ���ý first talked about that gift, March 4, 1864.

“Have had a long and pleasant call on Mr. �ֲ���ý—says he will give $10,000—would rather have had another name—he cannot act as our agent as well as if on another name—but said it might be as well for us in the end—said should at some future time make us a donation. I asked, ‘Before your death?;’ He replied: ‘Perhaps so, I cannot say.’ Said now is the time to start subscription in Boston. Went to Concord, N. H. Stop with Bro. E. P. Prescott. Carrie and I called at the Millett’s.”

Hearing these words might seem rather unremarkable, but it’s extraordinary when you look at the diary, because here’s this incredibly small page, and Oren Cheney’s trying to fit all of these words on one third of it. You can see, as he’s writing, the penmanship gets tighter and tighter and smaller and smaller until he’s finally wrapping the words up around the page because he doesn’t have room to fit all the important things that Benjamin �ֲ���ý is telling him on March 4th, 1864. Cheney, in what looks like fairly spare prose, is really, really excited. $10,000: He was going around very happy when people would give $100 or $10, and here’s a man giving $10,000 and offering the prospect of much more.

But he doesn’t say anything about slavery.

We know that Cheney had opinions about slavery. He was a member of the Free Will Baptists, which was one of the denominations so radical as to believe that God offered salvation to all people. If that was true, then slavery was, as Cheney put it in an opening editorial to the abolitionist newspaper Morning Star, “a giant sin against God and an awful crime against man.” Cheney was so deeply committed to abolitionism that he left Brown University because, as a student, he did not see it as abolitionist enough. Cheney believe deeply in abolitionism.

It’s worth noting that abolitionism was something of a fringe at the time — it’s easy to say we’re all abolitionists now, but roughly 2 percent of Americans living in the north of the United States were abolitionists in the 1850s. Just so you understand, the Libertarian Party polled 4 percent in the national election in 2016.

When it comes to talking about money made, at least indirectly but still fundamentally from slavery, there is silence.

There was controversy surrounding �ֲ���ý’ establishment of this gift to make a college. The controversy lay not with slavery and money, at least as far as Cheney would remember it. The controversy lay in the fact that Cheney was accepting money to make a college in the first place. When Cheney established the Maine State Seminary in 1855, there were a number of Free Will Baptist seminaries in other parts of northern New England. All of them were thinking about becoming a college at some point, in a sense stepping up from being a post high school kind of school to being one that dealt more deeply in the liberal arts. Cheney actually assured a number of people, “Don’t worry, I’m actually looking into just establishing a seminary.” Yet here he is nine years later, looking for the money to make a college. A lot of people were incredibly unhappy with this. They were so unhappy that decades later, in 1907, when Emmeline Cheney, Oren’s wife, wrote a biography of her now-dead husband, she took an entire chapter to explain why it was that he had done what he did and to defend those decisions.

Cheney and his colleagues were also aware of the limits on the kind of money they could accept. Cheney’s successor and second president of �ֲ���ý, George Chase, recalled in the 1880s that Free Will Baptists, when they were thinking about establishing �ֲ���ý College, would have been reluctant to send their children to a college, “maintained by the fruits of slave labor.” What he was referring to specifically was that there had been a southerner, a plantation owner, who had offered money to an institution in New Hampshire. He had not actually followed through on that, but Chase was acknowledging that plantation owners, perhaps strangely, were interested in supporting an abolitionist institution, and that �ֲ���ý College would have probably been very uncomfortable with that fact, had that plantation owner been interested in giving a donation here.

Here we have a college that is aware of some controversial elements of a decision to become a college, and is aware that slavery is actually a controversial piece of a foundation of a college — and yet when it comes to talking about money made at least indirectly but still fundamentally from slavery, there is silence.

I find that silence intriguing because it suggests just how deeply this nation — not just south but north, south, and west — depended on the enslavement of millions. Abolitionists, including mill owners, failed to disassociate themselves from ties to slavery. Emma Soler has done some wonderful research on this fact, to show that even a mill owner in Rhode Island would be anxious about how he was going to continue being an abolitionist, while he continued to weave cotton grown by the people he wanted to be free.

This failure to acknowledge or at least directly address these compromises raises for me another set of intriguing questions, and I want to take another moment to think about it etymology. “Intrigue” is a wonderful word. It comes from the Latin intricare, to entangle or to confuse. It’s worth thinking about intriguing questions, because it is those kinds of questions that are questions in which you find yourself entangled. To put it differently: In what ways are you inextricably tied to the questions that you pose?

It’s with that idea of intrigue that I point out that I did not title this talk “questions for Cheney” or “Questions for Cheney and �ֲ���ý,” but instead, “Questions for �ֲ���ý.” My real interest is not questions for them, although I would love to sit down in a room with both of them, but it’s for us.

When it comes to slavery, abolitionism, and racism, there are many contemporary entanglements for us to consider. As Bryan Stevenson, the director of the Equal Justice Initiative, pointed out in his Commencement address last May, “I don’t think we’re free in America. I think we’re burdened by our history of racial inequality. It’s in the air in Maine, just like it’s in the air in Mississippi. It doesn’t matter where you go, there is this contaminant that we’re all breathing in.”

You can see some of that contamination in the life of someone like Julie Lythcott-Haims, the author of the Common Read for this year, who, in many instances, recounts how she was silenced by the racism of others. That silence is not something that she bore alone or something that she suffered alone, even though I think she suffered it more than the other people around her. Everyone who was with her suffered it for not being able to benefit from the wisdom that she could offer, the trust that she could build, with those who instead were inflicting great pain on her.

It’s in the face of these problems that people like Lythcott-Haims and Stevenson point out that I wonder, can talking more fully about Oren Cheney, his vision and his compromises, and also his silences, help us see a little better this contaminated air and perhaps even hear a little better our awkward silences?

There’s a problem with this, and that’s that my question, at least for what I want to do right now is just too big. The amplification is too loud. You’re all sitting here very quietly, nicely regimented in your rows, and I’m stuck behind this big wall of wood. I would so much rather talk with you all in a smaller group, as I was able to do in April, when I talked about this with a group of prospective students.

I would like some of you to ask me, as some of them did, “What role did African Americans play an abolitionism?” “Why are you talking just about white men?” And for that matter, “What role do you play? What role does your background play, as a white man, in asking these questions and seeking these answers?”

Associate Professor of History Joseph Hall urged the Class of 2022 to ask the questions that intrigue them. ”Your quest, your development, depends on your questions.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Of course, there’s another big problem here, and that’s that these are only my questions. Your quest, your development, depends on your questions. I hope you get some of those questions and answers from the people around you.

Consider, for instance, asking Frankie Urueta, a custodian in the basement of Pettengill — when he gives you a fist bump, you’ll know who he is — why he wants �ֲ���ý to host a powwow. Ask Michael Sergeant what he thinks about ranked-choice voting, or go and then ask him. Ask research librarian Christine Murray anything. If you have time, ask her about how birds communicate. Let’s talk about what intrigues us, and remember, there really are no stupid questions.

Perhaps just as important, let’s find the space to do this. it’s so easy to say to stand here and say, “be curious, ask questions” when that does not help you get your homework finished. The dreams of September frequently wither under the obligations of October. If you are going to ask questions, ideally you’re going to have the space to do so in your classrooms. But there might be other questions that intrigue you that don’t fit in those spaces. I hope you do the work to make those spaces.

For my part, if you have a question for me, I’ll cut corners on my committee work right there. I might even cut some corners on my lecture for class tomorrow. For those of you who are in either of my classes tomorrow, you might see some of the effects of these questions in your syllabi. That’s not quite as much of a joke as I’d like it to be right now.

What it’s really about is you and the questions you want to ask. I hope I’m part of them. I hope others here are part of them. We have this wonderful opportunity in this wonderful environment to ask them.

I’d like to close with one last question: Does anyone have time to talk over lunch next week?

Thank you.