At the start of my ninth day of work this summer, I pulled my hair back, changed into scrubs and a face mask, and entered operating room 8 to prepare for the morning’s first pediatric surgical case. I learned that the patient was a thirteen-month-old girl wearing pink pajamas. Her teary-eyed parents were in tow, and their child was suffering from a tennis ball-sized brain tumor. She would die unless her impending craniotomy was perfectly executed. I glanced between her CT scans lit up along the wall, the trays of glistening blades, and finally the curly-haired infant on the table. Now she had a tube in her throat, her eyes taped shut, and a machine breathing for her. At that moment, I was most aware of the absolute importance of decision-making. Choices made by the surgeons in that room during the next eight hours would determine whether or not these desperate, terrified parents would celebrate their baby’s next birthday. The thought of the any sort of lifelong obligation to make such choices as a single individual seemed far removed from me: it seemed to be an endeavor I could never be prepared to undertake.
The surgeon in charge was tall, outspoken and grinning as he pulled on his gloves and began his work. He asked for a razor with which to shave the baby’s scalp, surveyed the staff in the room and then looked directly at me, asking, “What school are you from?” I meekly offered Middlebury as my answer. He raised an eyebrow at me. “I myself am a former Midd kid,” he smiled. “Middlebury led me all the way to this room.” I was both shocked and intrigued. It turned out that this doctor had taken the same 8 a.m. chemistry class as I did my sophomore year. He had loved the snow storms just as I do now, and had labored over many of the difficult exams I still have ahead of me. He strode around the room, surveying the tumor’s location once more, demanding a marking pen, and discussing what his protocol would be if this baby’s intracranial pressure spiked and threatened her life over the next few hours. I stood next to him as he attempted to prolong the child’s life for which he was responsible, and I began to make sense of what choice means at Middlebury College.
You and your new peers are about to embark on a four-year experience that will provide a foundation for your adult lives as scholars, as friends, as brothers and sisters, and as future professionals in the world outside of this small Vermont town. You are all bright and full of potential; you wouldn’t be at this ceremony if the administration and faculty didn’t feel you were ready to face your new challenges. What may not be so immediately apparent during these first weeks, however, is that fact that the decisions you make here can either contribute to or detract from what you gain at Middlebury, and how significantly your academic performance and dedication will affect your lives after not just the next four, but also the next fifteen or twenty years, and beyond. The Middlebury community is inspiring to be a member of, much because the college has a standard all its own with which you will become intimately familiar. The honor code embodies values of commitment and accountability that you will find in the college handbook, and also just as immediately in the work and actions of the students learning and growing along with you. Your intellectual honesty as a group of new students will be paramount invaluable to the college. Equally important will be the assumption of your professors and mentors that you will always complete and take pride in your own work. You will sign the honor code on your exams and projects, affirming an obligation and a trust that is shared by the students around you, and also expected by the professors who lead you. However routine your papers or labs might seem at the time, your work will be pivotal during these years. Sound decision-making at this stage of your academic careers in adherence to the honor code will be integral to the foundation you build and the contributions you make beyond Middlebury.
Today, you choose to become acting, responsible members of a real and powerful philosophy by which to live your days. I so heavily emphasize choice because it must be understood that Middlebury College is not compelling you to be honest. You are expected to rely on your abilities, to trust in yourselves and those around you, and to choose honesty of your own accord. This is how you will build your individual and collective intellect and character. Any and all decisions that you make will be yours alone, as you maneuver your way through the next months of your first Middlebury autumn. Months will turn into semesters, semesters into years, and before long you will find yourselves confronted with new, life-altering transitions to navigate. Lessons learned and conclusions made at Middlebury may even, as I learned every day this summer, lead you to choices that make the difference between life and death. Regardless of the ultimate paths that all of you will discover, it is my hope that you will approach every task and obstacle with resolve, and that you take pride in the certitude that comes from choosing honorable action.