by Tara Hartnett Leonard '86
You love them. You hate them. But you always read them. They're your alumni class notes and they're a self-esteem crisis waiting to happen. When a brand new Middlebury Magazine lands on your doorstep, do you immediately dig into that meaty article on Renaissance poetry? Do you whip out your checkbook to contribute to the capital campaign? Chances are, you flip to the back and, with a mixture of dread and delight, check out what your classmates are up to. And what they're up to usually reads like this:
Archie Vogel has been named chief of brain surgery at Mt. Sinai Hospital in Manhattan, where he placed fifth in the New York City Marathon in spite of a recently transplanted lung. He volunteers 25 hours a week for the Special Olympics with ex-ski champion Benton Bradley, who has just become the youngest partner in history at his corporate litigation firm. His wife Allison Smith Bradley published a best-selling collection of short stories just days after delivering triplets. She plans to return to work as U.S. Ambassador to Italy after the entire family bicycles through Europe.
Do these people live on the same planet as we mortals? The one where days only have 24 hours and the definition of volunteer work is offering to do the laundry? Wouldn't you, just once, like to see someone write that he's going bald, is still working on that 12-step program, or spends most of the day saying "Do you want fries with that?"
Not that I don't admire the stunning accomplishments of my fellow alumni. It's just that in the real world, most of us live lives somewhere in between Who's Who in Corporate America and The Diagnostic Manual of Psychiatric Disorders. Personally, I'd like to hear less of these corporate success stories and more about the everyday milestones to which we can all relate. For instance:
Janet Ansel '81 blew her diet again and writes that, if she sees one more 100-pound actress talking about will power, she may drown the woman in Slim Fast. John Jones '72 just bought a fire-engine red convertible for all the obvious mid-life crisis reasons and would love to hear from aging classmates who have done the same. Samantha Harvey '92 just dumped Mr. Right after learning that his idea of commitment is a three-day video rental.
Not holding your breath? Human nature being what it is, it's doubtful that such revelations will soon see print. However, it is possible to read your alumni class notes without having a nervous breakdown. Just read between the lines! As with most autobiographies, what's left unsaid is the most revealing. Here are a few examples:
Lisa Allen Smith '84 is delighted to announce the arrival of son Jason on October 14. In other words, poor Lisa, thrilled though she is, hasn't slept more than three hours straight in two months, has the stomach of a sumo wrestler, and occasionally feels like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby.
Bob Tremont '58 writes that his family threw a surprise family reunion at his home in Greenwich this summer. Translation? All three of Bob's children have decided to move back home until Bill gets a job, Ann completes rehab, and Samuel feels more comfortable with his sexual identity.
Jessie Cox '94 has entered a management training program at one of America's fastest growing corporations. Guess who's scooping ice cream at Ben & Jerry's for the summer?
Once you get the hang of it, reading your class notes is even more entertaining than the O.J. Simpson trial! And speaking of O.J., here's what his recent University of Southern California alumni update probably said: O.J. Simpson writes that his media career is really taking off! O.J. has just published his own book and can be seen daily on television programs throughout the world. Due to his hectic schedule, O.J. won't be able to attend this spring's class reunion, but he hopes to be free soon.
Kidding aside, for those of you less comfortable with literary analysis, I urge some simple perspective. Alumni class notes are not some sort of graduate essay exam. They're not a yardstick with which to measure one's fame, fortune, or knowledge of trendy European ski resorts. And most important, they're not the whole story. Like an annual family Christmas photo, these carefully phrased mini-bios reveal only the smiling surface of rich and complex lives. While the genuine accomplishments recorded deserve our applause, they leave little room to reflect that triumph frequently comes with loss and success only with sacrifice. That's life, with all of its faults, foibles, joys, and challenges. And that's what you find when you read between the lines.
So enjoy your alumni class notes for what they are-an opportunity to share special moments with friends past and present. A chance to crow, to connect, to rekindle lost relationships. You'll discover that regardless of what everyone is writing, here's how just about everyone is living:
Middlebury Graduate has good days and bad, but is basically glad to be around. Tries to balance work, play, friends, and family. Laughs a lot. Exercises less. Has experienced exhilarating success and occasional regret. Would love to hear from classmates willing to share lessons learned along the way.
Tara Hartnett Leonard '86 recently left her job at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, to write full-time. (In other words, she loves the flexibility, misses the steady paycheck, dies a thousand deaths with every rejection letter, and watches "General Hospital" on a regular basis.)