Voices from Reed

By ian brook fisher '07, senior assistant dean

As the end of our centennial year draws to a close, we write this 100th Voices from Reed post in honor of the students who graduated today--the class of 2012. Commencement morning is filled with campus energy, as thousands of family and friends descend on our tiny campus to celebrate the achievement and future of their proud Reed graduates. I've never seen or heard of a commencement without beautiful sun-shining weather--an excuse for sundresses, sunglasses, and--in the case of one group of underclassmen--a tiny wading pool in which to keep their feet cool.

As in every year in my own memory, the march of the seniors begins to the unmistakable hum of the bagpipes. Graduating seniors processed in front of Eliot Hall before pausing to applaud the faculty and staff members who made their time at Reed unique. (In a wonderful act of reciprocation and symmetry, professors applaud graduates as they recede from the commencement tent).

Once seated on the front lawn, everyone was officially welcomed by the chair of the board of trustees--a Reed graduate from '73--who said that this graduation wasn't unlike his, except that many more students were naked on his graduation day. We were all audience to a farewell speech by Colin Diver, our president for the last 10 years. He commences the rest of his life this summer, leaving behind a college that has gotten better in every imaginable way during his time here.

The commencement address was a special one, in no small part because it ignored--and even mocked--the casual platitudes you hear so often at these sorts of events. Robert Smith '89 encouraged the seniors to engage in the process of finding their own voices. He acknowledged the powerful uncertainty that comes with a moment like commencement (one where "what's next?" is as common as "congratulations!"), and made sure that parents and students alike recognized that this moment is all part of the journey. Instead of imploring students to follow their dreams, he admitted that he felt anxious that he didn't have any dreams in college--or maybe that he had too many to ever stop and pay attention to just one. He championed the "summer sabbatical," arguing that the writers of great history never mention the idle summers that great men and women spent "just figuring things out," because they have been edited from the narrative. But these periods in our life are as important as our significant milestones in creating the person we are to become--and in shaping the voice with which we speak.

We'll miss this class of Reedies. In particular, this class is the first group of students whose applications I read, whose interviews I conducted, and whose envelopes I stuffed with confetti. While I'm sad to see some of my favorites leave Reed, the great comforting knowledge in admission is that a new class enters next fall. They will never replace what these seniors have left, but they will bring to our campus powerful young and new ideas. We're excited for the future at Reed.

Congrats, class of 2012.

One of my favorite things about Reed College--maybe my favorite thing--is the way that students here discuss their passions. There is a beautifully unscripted intellectualism about any topic of conversation, from comic books to ultimate Frisbee, data visualization to nuclear science. Their unpolished smarts continue to blow me away, even as a staff member who has now been at Reed for nearly nine years.

A handful of Reedies have really upped the ante in this video, published by Tested, an offshoot of the Mythbusters franchise. In short, Tested says they will cover "Anything that's awesome." You came to the right place, fellas. Reed College, and the world's only undergraduate-operated research reactor.

Take a few minutes and give this video a look. I promise you'll learn something.

Mamie Stevenson finished her thesis last week and passed her orals this week. After four years as a Reedie and three years working in the admission office, she had this to say about her prospie/Reedie experience. In the photo of interns below, Mamie is the one in the sunglasses.

By Mamie Stevenson '12

Reed Admit Days just happened just last month and thanks to our Admission Office, the event was (as it usually is) incredibly well received. I myself went to RAD as a young Reedie and the experience solidified my enthusiasm for enrolling at this amazing college.

I want to tell you about my interview for Reed, because as my time here comes to a close, I think more and more about how much of an impact the Admission Office has made on me since even before I enrolled here. Sometime in January 2008, I was contacted by Reed with encouragement to interview in the Denver/Boulder area. At this point, I had been rejected by my Early Decision school, and had very little interest in pursuing other colleges. (This was the result of an immature and outright misguided attitude that there was only one school for me—and that school did not want me.) However, it felt good that Reed reached out to me during this time, even if the Admission Office had no idea about my overwhelming feeling of disappointment. I drove up to Boulder one weekend to meet Melinda Brown, a Reed graduate, now Admission Counselor for the state of Colorado. I wore a cream and blue floral dress and a bright yellow sweater; I probably changed six times before settling on an outfit while practicing my smile in the mirror.

When I sat down with Melinda at the Trident Bookstore on Pearl Street, I felt weirdly at ease.  I had had college interviews before, but never with people who went to such lengths to make me not only feel comfortable, but wanted at their college. Melinda and I talked about the basic things: high school coursework, extracurriculars, my “strengths,” blah blah blah. But given Reed’s casual interview style, I was able to ask some of my own questions throughout. I knew Melinda had been an English major at Reed and I was curious about her thesis topic and experience writing it. She said, “I wrote on this Modernist author from New Zealand.  No one has ever heard of her.” In my AP Lit class a few weeks previous, I had read a short story called “Miss Brill” by Katherine Mansfield, so I asked Melinda if that is who she had written about. Her eyes widened as she said, “It was Katherine Mansfield!” And at that moment, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt like I was destined to go to Reed College.

"You're at a school, that lets you be you. I've been to a lot of colleges... and they're not like this."

-Richard Simmons on Reed College

Yes, Richard Simmons was on campus yesterday for Reed's annual "end of year surprise." Reed experienced a special transformation, from a serious focus on studying for finals to an unserious and whimsical excitement about life. In at least four hours on campus, Richard Simmons:

Wandered through the crowded Reed library, mingling in a way only he knows how.
Kissed adoring fans on both cheeks.
Led an entourage of spectators around campus, stopping to interact with literally every person that crossed his path.
Bounced up the stairs of Eliot Hall to the President's office.
Complimented anyone and everyone around him in a way I've never seen before.
Created a buzz around campus that won't soon be forgotten.
Posed with pictures with hundreds of students, all with a smile.
Put smiles of the faces of Reedies in the throes of finals week and thesis orals.
Led a marathon aerobics session (at the age of 63!) in the Reed gym.
Accepted a bedazzled Reed tank top made by our beloved Lois Hobbs.
Delivered a heartfelt speech to young Reedies about creating and realizing your dreams.
Truly, truly, seemed to "get" Reed.

He is a truly special guy, and we all thank him for brightening up campus yesterday with his own special brand of enthusiasm.

By Derek Bradley '06

This weekend I:

Jumped on a trampoline for five minutes while holding two bottles of champagne

Sprayed two friends with said bottles of champagne (they had it coming)

Served lunch to a small army of naked blue people

Pet wolf puppies

Participated in a Segway Time Trial Race

Saw a fireworks show, a live performance involving actors wearing glow stick suits, some incredible fire dancing, and a man who walked up next to me and randomly swallowed a sword

Took a 45 second walk and went from experiencing a world class Mariachi band to experiencing a world class Marimba band

Led a couple hundred people in a round of 'Take Me out to the Ballgame'

Watched a team I was rooting for win a sports tournament

Danced, Laughed, and Played to exhaustion

Saw people form memories they will cherish for the rest of their lives

Saw more old friends and had more great conversations than I could possibly count

And so much more...

This text was taken verbatim from Derek's facebook status on the Monday following Renn Fayre 2012. This is maybe the closest we've ever seen to someone implicitly describing the core ideals of Renn Fayre. Coming soon: for a photo slideshow of RF2K12, head to the admission website.

One of the many activities during RAD this year was an optional scavenger hunt for admitted students. They could choose from two pathways, and were encouraged to take photos as evidence that they had found the proper items. Kevin Snyder, from Virginia, was the first student to complete our scavenger hunt, and walked away with a prize of his choosing and a delicious chocolate from Alma in Northeast Portland. Congratulations Kevin, on being a pioneer of what may be a new RAD tradition.

See the Scavenger hunt hints and photos after the jump.

By Wendell Britt '13

I know what you are thinking; "You go to one of the most rigorous academic institutions in the country, how can a PE class be the toughest class you've ever had?!". There is an amount of logic to what you say. It is true that my academic classes have pushed my mind and abilities further than I have ever thought possible. That being said, Reed draws a certain kind of individual to its hallowed halls: the type of person for whom learning and academic exercise is joy. Intellectual pursuits, while challenging, are exercises that are comfortable and familiar. For this type of person, ACTUAL exercise is something that is not to be trusted, if not feared outright. This is the reason that our forefathers in the Reed Administrations decided to inflict the requirement of 6 quarters of PE upon us. They did not want us to get away with only the breaking of our minds, they wanted our bodies too.

Lower Body Abs is a 9 week romp through hell where a 50-year-old woman of what I like to call a chiseled physique named Wendy takes you to the limits of your physical abilities. Every day we go through a rigorous routine of abdominal exercises, the burn of which is akin to the heat of a thousand suns, and sets of squats and lunges that will leave your legs feeling not unlike wet noodles. The first day after taking this class, I no longer had the ability walk the three flights of stairs to my dorm room. The walk to classes had become a daunting journey of Tolkien proportions. And yet, every Monday and Wednesday for the rest of the quarter I kept coming back.

You might ask why would I put myself through this physical torture? Well for one, the class, while brutal, is very fun. I'm the kind of person who likes physical activity, so the endorphin high I get after finishing a workout is amazing. The main reason I find this class so enjoyable is that it puts everything into perspective for me. The physical pain that I feel as a result of LBA hits home the fact that while sometimes at Reed the academic work could be called "back-breaking", if Wendy has her way I might ACTUALLY break my back. Oh, excuse me. Latissimus dorsi.

Wendell Britt is a Junior Chinese Major at Reed College, he hopes to have a fully functioning 6-pack by summer time. However he does not ,contrary to popular belief, enjoy any amount of time on a beach, walking or otherwise. Photos are of Nick Pittman, '13

Spring has sprung! Whether it will hang on through to the summer is a question we'll have to wait to answer, but Reedies have taken advantage of this sunny April Friday with warm clothes and sunglasses. It's a great time of year on campus.

In our office, we're hard at work preparing for the arrival of admitted students for RAD on Sunday. They'll join us for two and a quarter action-packed days on campus, filled with new connections, old traditions, and plenty of academic orientation. Take a look at this little behind-the-scenes snapshot of the admission office. Many of our team members have been hard at work for the last couple of months, and the finishing touches mean putting everything into a tight folder for each visiting student.

We hope that you're ready to feel RAD. We certainly are! It's that time of year at Reed, after all...

By Stephanie Bastek '13

It's no secret that I'm a little bit obsessed with food. I regularly bring in my culinary experiments to the admissions office--black pepper grapefruit madeleines, ginger bundt cake, a surfeit of cookies--and bake regularly for the campus coffeeshop. Three days a week, I wake up at six a.m. to pipe macarons and shape brioche and shuck oysters for a French restaurant, without pay, just to get my fix. (The French even devised a charming word for this kind of free labor: une stage, zey call eet, zee traineeng pour un chef). I own about as many cookbooks as I do textbooks. I can recite the stages of sugar in my sleep, of which I have been getting increasingly little this semester, ever since I started cooking with Reed's student-run supper club, /uncommons/.

Founded in 2009, /uncommons/ is a group of equally food-obsessed Reedies that hosts fancy meals for a dozen of our fellow students a few times a month. We plan a seven-to-eleven course menu with exotic dishes (spätzel, pintxos, nasi lemak) from far-flung places (Austria, the Basque Country, Malaysia) involving bizarre ingredients (chicken hearts, kaolin, youtiao) that we prepare over the course of three days. Last month we catered a forty-person artists' dinner for Reed Arts Week, for which we did a lot of wild things--including replicating dirt with a combination of crumbled black bread, pu-erh tea, and spices--or making potatoes look like river stones--or dipping mignardieses in neutral-flavored poprocks.

By Martha Janicki '14

I decided that I needed a break from Reed - from the United States, really. I wanted to see a bit of the world; for once, I wanted to have the leisure to go to museums and to read the books that I had always meant to read and to live the life of a nineteen-year old in Europe that I had always hoped to live. I have been studying French for fourteen years of my life and a friend had just shown me the movie Paris, Je T'Aime, so I thought it was a great idea to hop across the pond to study abroad in Paris for a year.

By now, I have been gone from Portland for longer that I was ever even there. After doing the Paris scene for some time now, I have witnessed this interesting phenomenon amongst my fellow Reedies abroad: at any given party, the Reedies, without fail, somehow always huddle around each other in this microcosmic Reedie circle. Hum 110 is a recurring subject (being abroad for this long is kind of like Odysseus' journey, no?). There's usually a comparison of the Hauser Fundome to the Parisian university library system, most of which is open for no more than eight hours a day. Everyone else that stayed for one semester in Paris rejoiced in the fact that they were getting back in time for Renn Fayre (unlike poor me). Then (this is where we realize that it's nothing but Reedies in the circle and that we are at a party), these Reedies inevitably complain about their nostalgia for the classes back home- those notoriously rigorous academics that are unfortunately hard to replace, even in the city of Descartes and Camus.

Paris is an amazing city - I mean, where else could I get my Picasso fix at 2pm for free? Where else would I spend so many nights on a canal sipping on France's finest beverage? Where else could I eat so much baguette and fromage and still feel good about myself?

But it is with this prospie-perspective that I realize how much I miss Reed. I miss the classes, I miss the rigor, and above all, I miss this unique Reed community that is calling to me from distant lands. Don't get me wrong, I love this city of lights; my return to Paris is inevitable and already in the works. But as I sip on this little, bitter cup of coffee, I realize that I am now quite ready to go back to my home at Reed.