Exeter reunion this weekend. The academy building in full sunshine, above. Above the door, carved into the marble, in Latin: “Here come boys to be made men.” You might remember that from A Separate Peace.
The further I get from Exeter the more affection, warmth, and most of all respect I have for the place. While I had a few very special friends while on campus, I didn’t particularly enjoy my two years there. Note to all parents considering boarding school (and to those of you with more than one child under five: who isn’t?) do not send a child to boarding school for just two years. Not a setup for a great experience, at least for for me.
That being said, I’m fairly sure that it was those two years at Exeter – which, in memory, consist largely of endless winter cold and snow, dark falling at 4:15, long runs in the woods, Mr. Valhouli, reading, our wet hair freezing on the way to G & H classes (4:15 to 6), and Evening Prayer in the chapel on Thursday evenings – that formed the basis of the rest of my life. Exeter was the place that helped me get to Princeton, and it is certainly my academic ground zero.
So, I am immensely grateful to Exeter. I’m also very proud of being associated with an institution who believes smart children are up to the task of rigorous intellectual and academic endeavor. There is so much keeping-up-with-the-slow-guy in America today, I think, that I really respect a place that says, No, we believe you can handle this, and we’re going to keep throwing stuff at you until you you prove it to yourself.
Being back on campus brings it all back. The incredible power of the place is manifest in so many small details – in the beautiful architecture, in the severity of the weather, in the enormous library. I am proud that Exeter is part of the fabric of who I am.
