by Dystropoppygus

Suddenly, one discovers their 20th college reunion is a thing of the past. Chances are, one”’s children are fast approaching prospective college student age, post-puberty blues are fading, there”’s fresh interest in the where”’s and how”’s of mom”’s and dad”’s college days. The younger ones are bewildered at pointing out differences between now and then. It feels like yesterday that little GRE envelopes were the season”’s hottest article. For (us) foreign students, TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language) provided the decisive number: a little three-digit figure which would make or break all college applications.

My formal education has been a most fortunate and rewarding experience. I can say so now, twenty odd years after I”’ve attended my last lecture in a University auditorium. Of course, one”’s professional training never ends, but this belongs to a totally different sphere. Not only have I been privileged to attend one of the US”’ finest liberal arts colleges, I managed to do so without regard to my family”’s ability to pay, thanks to a very generous financial aid program. Swarthmore has fulfilled its promise and mission-statement. I was prepared for a balanced life and effective citizenship in a highly competitive yet consensus-driven and non-sectarian academic environment; I did receive the academic learning and tools required to become a thinking, rational, socially responsible person. While this was by no means understood by me while it was happening, it also happened without affecting my creative imagination and ability to dream. I can now proudly speak about my undergraduate years and strongly argue in favor of a liberal arts education (something completely out of the ordinary in my home country and, I gather, most of Europe). And also hope my children will be as fortunate as their parents have been (you see, it happened that I met my life-companion at Swarthmore).

In the late seventies, the echoes of then past decade”’s “revolutionary cries” were still vibrating in Swarthmore”’s halls and dormitories. Often described in the late 60s as “the Kremlin on the Creek,” my College bore an unmistakably forward, liberal and perhaps even quasi-European odour. Part of my enjoyment for having been there surely stems from this esprit. It has been with great interest and pleasure that I learned about the significant essence of this very spirit being carried on today, through one of Swarthmore”’s important alumni”’s efforts: Project Pericles, spiritual child of Eugene M. Lang. After one”’s read about it, one can think there is still hope for America. Hope this great nation will be able to reverse the efforts of the now powerful few and regain consciousness of the world”’s need for an example state.

In less than four years, my son will be asked to decide on his undergraduate plans. He has often heard both his parents praise their American alma mater; already, he has a vague idea of the wonderful and enriching life experience of our most important formative years. Naturally, he will want to apply. I surely hope I will not have to persuade him to prefer a college in Spain instead. For alma mater”’s sake.

Sadie, its me who owes you one. Dystropoppygus