Student Life Archives

Margaret Bauer

Your time here is short. Seniors, we are on the threshold between academia and the “real world.” At this time next year you will (hopefully) be working a job or wading through graduate school, still adjusting to life outside the bubble. Freshmen, three years aren’t much; even you will soon leave the cozy collegiate atmosphere in pursuit of your ambition. So before you trade in your beliefs and ideals for a job and a mortgage, it is imperative that you make a choice: liberty or tyranny. I have spent four years at Washington University reading and arguing and discovering truth and have made a final decision.

This choice has defined my college experience, which is why I think it important to put the question to you. As an apolitical freshman, I never would have believed that as a senior I would hold the political beliefs I now adhere to. The dogma being taught in some of my classes and by so many of my fellow students, however, did not add up. I decided to read and research on my own and soon realized that the answer I was searching for was the answer to this basic question of liberty or tyranny.

The choice at first seemed unequivocal. How absurd it seemed to want tyranny. But the evaluation proved more complex than I had imagined. Many policies that I originally viewed as vital to the existence of freedom were actually monstrous injustices perpetrated by the all-intrusive, ever-encroaching state. I thought “living wages” represented liberty until Economics 103B illustrated how they benefit skilled workers at the expense of unskilled workers and large corporations at the expense of start-ups. I thought a state-mandated level of health care provision was a necessary prerequisite of justice until I recognized it as the enslavement of medical professionals. I thought a war in Iraq could bring peace until I appreciated American “good-will” for the tyranny and imperialism that it is.

So I re-checked my premises for contradictions and painstakingly followed the logic to the inevitable conclusion that a libertarian philosophy is the most consistently correct position. All I ask is that you do the same. Check your premises. Ask the difficult questions. Do not be satisfied with answers that fail the test of reason. When you leave this institution, you will have graduated from one of the country’s top universities. You will eventually occupy positions of power and authority and will have an influential say in the state of affairs. Will you use this position to advance the ideals of freedom and unlimited prosperity or to maintain the status quo of statism and societal decay? Will you choose liberty or tyranny? I’ve made my choice.

Margaret Bauer

It finally happened. I had convinced myself that it was stupid and little more than a waste of time. But sitting last week in a familiar wood paneled booth over glasses of Blue Moon, I gave in. I decided to join Friendster.

For those still in the dark, Friendster is an online collection of personal communities. As relationships do, these communities mesh, giving access not only to friends, but also to friends’ friends and so on. A Friendster profile lists activities, locations, and random thoughts for all to see. In addition to people, there are profiles for cities, states and even educational institutions. (Wash. U. lists 578 friends, far from its ninth-ranked potential.)

But while many users delight in the annoying competition of counting online friends (the technical term, I’m told, is “Friendster whore”), what made me crack was the realization that staying in touch was going to be difficult. My friends have been an intimate part of college life-how could I continue to be in their lives during the years ahead? Was it possible to have any contact before they see me, beer-bellied and balding (with a trophy wife at my side, no doubt), at the reunion?

I was worried that after years of experiencing life, letting people down, and creating success, that the people with whom I’ve grown up won’t be nearby. I was scared of facing new challenges without their dependable personalities.

I’ve often heard college referred to as the “best four years of your life.” But while classes and parties may comprise the best four years of my life (unless that trophy wife thing pops up), it’s life after graduation that will be amazing-the best 68 years of my life.

It certainly won’t be because of myself alone. It will be because of the many adventures my friends will take me on. Some of them might not have the confidence to see it now, and I might not be in touch with my feelings enough to tell it to their faces, but they are going to travel the globe, touch humanity, and, eventually, leave the world as a better place. They will have stories of starting companies, of meeting people and learning languages, and of touching soil once out of reach. I hope to be a part of many of those stories. And if not, then I plan to hear them recounted many times over.

But how can I stay in touch with these friends who I know well, those who I just started to know this year, and those who I will meet during Senior Week? (Sorry, in advance.) Friendster’s not perfect, but it’s a start. You can post messages without needing mass e-mails; you can find out friends’ locations, jobs, and whether they’re interested in finding “activity partners;” you can even find friends living in your city.

So join Friendster and add “Wash. U.” as a friend, because it’s never too late to start to connect. Sixty-eight years can hold a lot of enjoyment-but only if you know the stories.

Margaret Bauer

I am a conservative. I am a classical liberal. I am an anarchist. I am a capitalist. I am a communitarian. I am a Christian. I am a rationalist. I am a Lutheran. I am a Thomist. I am a substance dualist. I believe in libertarian free will. I had none of these positions when I came here four years ago.

What happened?! It isn’t that very many people at Washington University share my opinions. Most people here have ridiculous caricatures of conservatives, don’t understand capitalism, hate Christians, and don’t know a damn thing about most of my other positions.

When I came here I was a liberal, a statist, an atheist, a positivist, and a determinist. I fit fairly well into the College Democrats-the first campus organization I joined. I was desperate to see Gore as our master rather than Bush. I was convinced it mattered enormously.

But this all came undone. The University has a motto, you see: “Strength Through Truth.” And that, my friends, was my downfall. I pursued the Truth to its fullest, I asked the hardest questions I could, and I was willing to accept any position that my reasoning moved me towards. This is why I left the College Democrats. Most of my friends were too busy schmoozing with our campus coordinator from the Democratic party and attempting to sleep with one another to care about accompanying me to my first meeting with the Conservative Leadership Association, the publisher of the Washington Witness.

I quickly found a new home with people who cared about ideas. In fact, it seemed to be the only place on campus that was willing to engage in serious arguments, to read, and to pursue ideas to their fullest. As a result of my involvement, I started the College Libertarians, one of the most active groups on this campus. The CLA and College Libertarians have been instrumental in changing the opinions of dozens of people on this campus, which I like to think was in no small part due to my efforts.

I was involved in over 17 speaking events, scores of debates, and numerous meetings and reading groups. I never stopped learning and fighting for what I thought was just. As a result of this struggle I met most of my dearest friends, met the woman I hope to one day call my wife, decided to accept Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, and found that the modern Nation-State is the most dangerous institution that the world has ever known and dedicated my life to fighting for its abolition.

This, my friends, is strength-knowledge, love, companionship, spirituality-and I found it all because I loved the Truth.

For me, this is what my experience here was all about. When Truth is your highest end, the others attend to themselves.

If I can give you any advice at all it is to embrace the search for the true with all of your heart, mind, and soul. Do not get caught up in the monotony of the world, but return often and with energy to your thoughts and the power of your own reason. Knowing and speaking the truth is the greatest power that we have in this life.

Margaret Bauer

My name is Brendan Watson, and I am a recovering Howard Dean supporter. I believed in his message for America. I believed in him when he said we needed to boot special interest politics, and instead make the system accountable to those that rely on it the most: schoolchildren, the elderly and infirm, and the poor. No, he wasn’t perfect. But I believed that he was genuine, and that he’d involve the disenchanted and the disenfranchised in formulating solutions to some of our most pressing social, economic, and political problems.

It was painful to watch Dean undo himself. The final blow came in January, when I watched on TV time and again Dean’s red-faced tantrum after losing the Iowa caucuses.

What saddened me even more than a return to politics-as-usual following Dean’s demise was the extent that being called “liberal” became an insult and a political liability. One of John Kerry’s greatest weaknesses is being identified as being “a typical Massachusetts liberal.”

Well, I don’t ever plan on running for president, so I think that it’s safe to say it: I am the truest kind of liberal there is, and I am damn proud of it! That’s not to say, however, that I am a leftist.

One of the greatest problems within American politics in the post-Dean era is the fact that we’ve lost sight of the greater meaning of what it means to be “liberal.” According to the truest meaning of the word, it doesn’t-or rather shouldn’t-connote one’s political ideology.

Rather, it encompasses fundamental liberal philosophical ideals and commitments. Most importantly a liberal believes in, and defends at all costs-as did our founding fathers-“Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”

Perhaps the most important liberal belief, however, is a belief in human progress. When we entered college the economy was good-though weakening-and our world was-or for the most part at least felt-safe.

Today the job market, while recovering, is still tepid, and our world is very much unsafe, and will likely become more so. As our commencement speaker wrote in a recent New York Times column, “It’s no wonder that so many Americans are obsessed with the finale of the sitcom ‘Friends’ right now. They’re the only friends we have, and even they’re leaving.”

We’re also leaving. We’re leaving the University and our friends. More fundamentally, we’re leaving that bubble-that place and stage in our lives when we had great freedoms, without the full responsibilities of adulthood. That blissful time we called college is now over.

As we graduate, we are-as is the rest of our nation-at a crossroads. We can choose to be responsible global citizens, and represent the truest liberal values, or we can be bullies and we can cower from our responsibilities. We can paint the world in black and white, or we can attempt to understand and grapple with all the world’s nuances. We can believe in a better future as Howard Dean did, or we can go back to politics as usual. Regardless, we must realize at the very least that we’re responsible for the progress of our nation and the larger world. Most importantly, we’re responsible for ensuring progress towards the realization of the hope for peace and liberty for all.

Margaret Bauer

As graduates and their families enjoy commencement activities and leave campus for the new challenges of careers, graduate school, or taking some time off to put things in perspective, just remember that we are saying “hasta luego,” not “goodbye.”

For many of us, the experience of college will be remembered as a time of exposure to new cultures and languages, incredibly bright and clever people, and all of the transformations that have taken you from the protection of parents and family into a world of personal independence and new responsibilities. Eventually, some of you will choose to have children of your own, who someday will repeat the very process you are completing today, and-as we live longer and longer-you will see your grandchildren and great-grandchildren graduate.

You leave here with lasting friendships, memberships, and, in less frequent cases, partnerships. For a few this transformation is unsettling and for most a revelation. Yet, as the years pass, nearly all of us come to the realization that your years in college are the most important in our lifetimes. Soon, you will find yourself scanning the alumni magazine for news of classmates and favorite professors. Eventually, all of us will find ourselves gravitating back to our college days. Not surprisingly, the older we get the more value we put on those short years of demanding professors, failed and successful alliances, and newfound freedoms that our parents never imagined we could manage on our own. These unforgettable moments helped each of us establish who we are and what we are becoming.

Many of you will discover a magnet that keeps pulling you back for reunions, homecomings, alumni club meetings, and eventually for your opportunity to march a second time as a member of your 50-year class. And yes, you someday will have the ability to contribute gifts to support scholarships, professorships and new facilities-so that others can afford to gain the same quality of learning and growth you have enjoyed during your sojourn with us.

So what does “hasta luego” have to do with this? It means “see you later,” or “I’ll see you shortly,” or “’til then.” “Hasta luego” says that you will stay in touch with classmates and your University.

Time will multiply your good memories and mask those embarrassing moments and small failures that helped shape the person you are becoming. Look around you and remember what you see here today. Realize that it, too, will change in physical appearance. What won’t change are the memories of important moments and lifelong friendships found on this short interlude along life’s great journey.

So until we meet again, go into the future knowing that your past will beckon and that you will respond.

This is not “goodbye” or “adios,” it is “hasta luego.”

Margaret Bauer

I thank the editors of Student Life for the invitation to write to the Class of 2004. Of course, the first order of business is to offer my congratulations. If you are graduating with honors of one sort or another, you should be justifiably proud. On the other hand, if you are getting out of here by the skin of your teeth, you should be equally proud. The criteria that result in success here can be a bit remote from the criteria that will result in success in most of what life has to offer. There are many ways to achieve happy, useful, and productive lives and just a few of them will be based on what your transcript here looked like. I always have thought that students who persevere at Washington University without frequent pats on the back have a strength of character and an endurance to be admired. There were many easier ways to earn a BA.

In thinking about what comes next, most of you are focused on your careers. When I think about what comes next, I focus on something else-your lives as citizens. Eventually, you will have major decisions to make other than what you will do for a living-namely, how you behave as a member of a community, perhaps as a parent in a school district, as a voter, as a tax-payer, and as a consumer-by which I mean a consumer of the earth’s resources, not a consumer at the mall.

It is now overwhelmingly clear, and disputed only on the fringes, that we are in the midst of global warming, a loss of biodiversity, ozone depletion, deforestation, overfishing, overgrazing, and a toxic pollution of the earth’s water, soil, and air. Although these are all caused by human activity, and all will have an impact on the quality of your lives, we live in a society in which the interpretation of unambiguous scientific evidence is claimed to be ambiguous on the basis of political and economic priorities. We desperately need to untangle the facts of environmental degradation from the politics of deciding what to do about it.

The scientific evidence that humans are profoundly damaging the earth is strong, compelling, and clear. The solutions are not. This cuts both ways. For example, those who automatically protest hydroelectric or nuclear power projects in developing nations may be denying the reality of the need for economic growth to improve the quality of life of millions of people. Moreover, they condemn these people to the only realistic alternatives-coal and firewood-thereby causing pollution and deforestation. If we cannot recognize and consider complications and competing priorities, we will simply watch as our world deteriorates.

There is something of a consensus developing among social scientists that progress on environmental issues is now a question of social change, which will come about because of a change in shared beliefs about our ethical responsibilities to future generations. This is possible-over the past century exactly these sorts of changes have occurred in our concepts of social justice. In joining this debate, your education gives you special obligations-to speak out, to vote, and to use good judgment and a sense of the larger perspective: namely, that we must stop debating the facts and start working toward solutions.

Margaret Bauer

It is that time of year when the platitudes, thought clich‚s and bromides gush like a syrupy torrent. Yes, friends, it is the glorious period called graduation, when older people say things to younger people that are obvious, untrue, or nonsensical, yet believe that somehow they are dispensing wisdom, the sagacity of their experience. It is the time of year when graduates are called “the leaders of the future;” when they are told that they are about “to enter the ‘real’ world;” when they are told that they will be “tested” but that their education “has, in part, prepared them for the challenges they will face;” when they are told about their “responsibilities” and about “making the world a better place;” when they are told that they are “indeed, a generation of privilege and so must bear the burden of giving back to others.” These moldy observations are called advice, which all graduation and farewell speeches given by commencement speakers are really all about: giving advice. My first bit of advice: never trust anyone who gives advice.

Advice givers find it wonderful to give advice: first, it is cheap to provide as it costs the giver nothing (better still if the advice-giver collects a nice fee for the occasion); second, it is assured that no one listening to it will follow it, which frees the speaker from any sort of responsibility other than showing up and making a speech; third, nothing new, insightful, or thought-provoking is expected, as indeed graduation speeches have become a predictable ritual much like the incantations of a priest. It is no wonder that every May and June we elders have marked off a season where we can all become like Polonious, wheezing windbags of words that have become virtually erased of any meaning.

Everything I ever learned about life didn’t come from my schooling, professors, books, or even living. It came from baseball. And from baseball I learned the three basic rules of life in this world. First, a management rule: always keep the people who hate you away from the people who might hate you but aren’t sure (Casey Stengel). Second, a rule about learning: never do only the things you want to do because it will make you a very narrow person, and never be embarrassed about making a fool of yourself doing things you don’t like doing or that you don’t do that well (Branch Rickey, baseball executive). Third, a moral imperative: it ain’t over ’til it’s over (Yogi Berra). The last is not a rule about persevering, although it is good for that, but rather about duty and responsibility and how deep our debts are (and I’m not talking about college loans, although I didn’t pay mine off until I was 32). That’s it, friends.

I graduated from the University of Pennsylvania in 1974 and did not attend the ceremony. It was rather hip in those days not to attend, particularly among certain students who felt themselves to be outsiders anyway. Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m going to say that looking back at it I am sorry I didn’t go to my graduation-but I am not at all sorry. Besides, I have been to a bunch since then, including those of my children. I had to go to those. There are just some things you can’t skip. It’s like all those other life passages like marriage, seeing your children being born, and all that stuff. Oh yes, I have a rule for that which must be endured because it cannot be avoided: as the Cowardly Lion said in “The Wizard of Oz” movie (too bad he didn’t say it in the book, too), “Wake me when it’s over.”

Margaret Bauer

As you prepare to go down a new path, with many exciting adventures awaiting you, I bet it has never occurred to you that someone in the Admissions Office has been watching over you. She is your Admissions Angel.

When you were a senior in high school and Washington University was sending you all that mail, there was an admissions officer always watching out for you. Maybe you met her when she visited your high school, or you attended a reception in your hometown with your parents and met her there. Maybe you never met her, but she knew you. She is the person who read every word of your application, all your recommendations and even your essay. She is the one who was your advocate. She screamed with delight when you were admitted and jumped up and down when you decided to join the Washington University community. You belong to her.

When you arrived in August your freshman year, she was watching with delight as you transitioned into our community. She was thrilled to see your name on a student committee, or in Student Life, or as a volunteer host for other prospective students. She beamed with pride-after all, you belong to her.

The years went flying by, she kept up with your happiness, your successes, your struggle to choose which two majors you wanted, where to go for spring break, what clubs to join, what job to take, which graduate school to go to, where to volunteer. Your Angel wanted you to have it all.

Now that you are about to graduate, to welcome a new adventure, to start another journey, she finds herself holding on, reluctant to let you leave the community where you have made your mark these last four years. New students are coming in August, yet your Angel is sad to see you leave. You remind her why she haunts the halls of Brookings, why she has chosen to be an Angel here. She reminds herself that there will be others, but she knows they won’t be just like you. She turns to give a final salute to you. For four years, you belonged to her.

Your Angel is proud.

All the Admissions Angels wish you every happiness and success in your next endeavors!

Margaret Bauer

Over the past four years, I have edited well over 1,000 articles for Student Life. I have forgotten almost all of them, even the ones that received plenty of attention on campus. However, one remains in the forefront of my mind: a column that taught me one of the most important lessons I have learned in college.

Two years ago, I contacted Dean Joel Anderson about writing a column for the 2002 Commencement issue of Student Life. He was particularly busy that week, and to my disappointment, he said he would not be able to write anything. But a few hours before the deadline, he sent me an e-mail. He explained that he had a great idea for a column and he would find the time to write it.

I’m glad he did.

When the opinion editor and I received his column later that afternoon, we read it with the kind of stunned appreciation you feel after hearing a Beatles album for the first time. Dean Anderson’s piece epitomized what a Commencement column should be. Unlike so many others, it did not tell us how to live our lives. Instead, it gave a piece of advice that was as simple as it was pertinent: embrace the uncertainty you will face in the coming months.

As much as I appreciated Dean Anderson’s advice as a sophomore, I never realized just how powerful it was until this year. Even for those of us who have already been offered a job or admitted to graduate school, many important questions about our lives remain unanswered. Will we achieve our professional goals at all, much less while we are still young enough to enjoy it? Will we find that one true love? Will we have children? Will we ever see the Cubs make it to the World Series?

Whenever my future begins to worry me, I just remember Dean Anderson’s advice. We should not fear our uncertainty; we should enjoy it. This will probably be the only time in our lives when we are completely free. We are not tied down by jobs, mortgages, spouses, or kids. Right now, we have the chance to do whatever we want with our lives. It doesn’t matter whether you spend the next few months devoting yourself entirely to a new job or you spend it driving around the country and visiting old friends. Just enjoy it, and appreciate this time in your life as a gift, not a burden.

Along the way, we are bound to make mistakes. We are young, and our inexperience is going to shine, but no one will notice if we remember to make our confidence and excitement shine brighter.

Margaret Bauer

I’m a tour guide. Every week someone asks me my most and least favorite things about Washington University and just about every week I lie. I rotate the “things that I don’t like” based on the crowd. Sometimes it’s the career center, sometimes it’s courses that lack syllabi, and-as many of you who know me well can attest-it’s even been Student Life. But as I prepare to leave campus in a matter of days, it’s not the things I dislike that I’ll remember most.

The reason that I lie to tour groups about my favorite thing is because I’m lazy. Trying to explain to people who’ve never been a part of this community what makes the University great takes far too much effort. If I’ve got a small group and they really seem interested, I may try and break it down for them, but generally it’s not simply worth the effort that could result in me backing into some high-speed bicyclist. A large group might hear about the flexible curriculum, the opportunities for co-curricular leadership, or study abroad-but the real gem at the University is the people.

Somehow, this place attracts the best people in the world. As a (former) East Coaster, I can say that students here are indisputably less pretentious, less competitive, more involved and more cooperative than at any Northeastern college I’ve ever been in contact with. I genuinely believe that I met some of the most incredible people on the planet right on my freshmen floor, Ruby 2. When ResLife takes the most intelligent, self-motivated and enthusiastic 18-year-olds in the country and sticks 50 of them on a floor with four bathrooms, out comes a “Real World” episode waiting to happen. I could have been rich if I’d taped it. What the University got was a family that continues to spread its dysfunction across campus.

Ruby 2 was a freshman floor in so many ways: we cleaned up our neighbor’s puke so she didn’t get the $50 fine, floorcest happened right in front of my eyes (and it wasn’t pretty) and we abused the original Napster until it was snatched from our hands. Remember when going home for Thanksgiving seemed like the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

Those memories will stay with me for years to come; however, it was the less practical experiences that I’ll remember for a lifetime: staying up until 4 a.m. talking about God’s presence among us; learning about the experiences of those who were from what seemed like a totally different world than me; and watching as over the next few years my floormates evolved into campus leaders, many distinguishing themselves in community service, Greek life, student government, and academics.

And the best part is that it hasn’t ended with them. Even now, every week I meet more excited, motivated, driven, articulate, and amazing people in the class of 2004. I only hope that as I move on to the next phase of my life I can continue to encounter people who enrich it at least half as much as students here have.

I wonder if any engineering firms need a tour guide.