Sally's Speech

What fun it is to be with people who share your past! Getting us organized in two days of reunion of old friends and happy memories, several classmates in particular deserve our thanks: Sandie Peterson Kirkbride who took the lead in planning and stayed on top of every detail; Liz Curtis Allen and Lucy Schmitz Morros were instrumental in raising funds for our class gift which is an endowment for the teaching of environmental science, particularly on-campus projects. Our goal was $50, 000 and we exceeded that by several thousand.Thanks also to our website master and communications whiz Gay Armstrong Bryson, who has entertained and cajoled us over the last six months with her witty and warm-hearted email messages. Kathy Thompson Hanser and Jan Schonwald Greenberg offered us splendid hospitality each evening so that we could reunite, remember and reminisce.

What is it that ties us to Mary Institute? That inspires us to return? I suggest that it is three important elements: the people, the place and the philosophy.

First we remember the people: We remember our headmaster, the distinguished Mr. Beasley. Mr. Arnatt playing the organ and teaching us to sing hymns. The gentle smile of Walter Dauster who was in charge of building maintenance. Our teachers: Mrs. Weir tracing ovals on th e blackboard to train us in penmanship. Miss Voorhees trying to simplify algebra for us; Mr. Chamberlin standing, one foot on the floor and the other on the desk, as he set forth the causes of World War I; Burly blowing her whistle on the soccer field. There are so many more and we have not forgotten them, nor their presence in our lives.

The place, of course, is unforgettable to us. Wherever we are, in St. Louis, California, South Carolina or England, we can see in our mind’s eye the wide expanse of green lawn stretching from Warson Road to the stately red brick building centered by majestic white columns. On those wide entrance steps we were photographed together at our graduation in 1960, at our twenty-fifth reunion in 1985 and today at our fiftieth. None of us forgets the black and white marble squares of the center hall, and leading from it the long parquet hall to the chapel. We can hear the lone soprano voice starting the Christmas service with the first verse of Once in Royal David’s City and then the dramatic support of the entire choir in the second verse. Green blazers, brown Abercrombie shoes, white wool socks at mid-calf. Lemon sponge pudding, yellow rolls, shepherd's pie. Milk and crackers at mid-morning break and the apple cart. These are all in our memories of Mary Institute.

The people. The place. The philosophy. The philosophy knitted the fabric of our lives together. I don’t think we were aware then that there was a philosophy or that our education was value based, but we did know that each day began with a chapel service, a tranquil start to a day filled with studious efforts, athletics and friendships. As headmaster of a school of 500 girls, Mr. Beasley surely had meetings to attend and phone calls to make, but every day he was on the stage and led grades four through twelve in a brief service of prayers, hymns and benediction. We filed in as individuals and sat there as a community. That sense of community was extended when Mr. Beasley read the prayer for graduates. For all of us it was a moment to recognize that we were connected to others in our class and in our school.

The philosophy is also expressed in the school motto Palmam quae meruit ferat: “Let she who deserves wear the (palm or) laurel wreath). In ancient Greece, the laurel wreath was given to those who won the Olympic contests, and most of us thought the motto acknowledged achievements of academic excellence because we were, after all, at a top preparatory school. We were taught to pursue excellence in our studies and to appreciate the first-rate. We applauded the student who won the English prize and the one who earned high honors in Chemistry.

In his speech to us at graduation Mr. Beasley told us that most of the contests that lay ahead of us would be inner, personal contests. Contests, for instance, between imposing our point of view and listening to the needs of another, such as a husband or a child. Of course we, with 67 years of experience, are familiar with many other inner contests! Mr. Beasley asked: "In such contests what are the prizes?" He ventured that one prize would be “the gift of an understanding heart.” If we “won” that gain, in the words of his favorite benediction: “the grace of courage, gaiety and the quiet mind.”

We grew up in the politeness of the 1950s, when the expectations were that we would be homemakers, mothers and volunteer workers, and that seemed to us a noble and fulfilling goal. Every year in the Chronicle was an ad saying “To educate a man is to educate an individual; to educate a woman is to educate a family.” Such were the attitudes in our youth. We never wore sun screen. We enjoyed the smell of burning leaves in autumn. We rolled up car windows. We thought a cell was something we learned in biology. And our music was by the numbers - 45, 78 and 33, rather than the new way of letters: CD, IPod and MP3. We had a first class education of that we have no doubt: we learned how to write essays, do scientific experiments, speak French. We were also taught how to sew, and trained in the proper way to pour tea -cream in the bottom of the tea cup first! Our idea of teenage revolt was wearing mismatched clothes.

Had we been born a few centuries earlier, these fifty years we are celebrating would have been one of few changes. But in this century and in the previous one the rate of change has been fantastic! Fortunately ours was a liberal arts education, which prepares us for nothing in particular and yet for everything possible. We learned how to learn; we were given the intellectual confidence to tackle new subjects and to take on the challenge of new pursuits. Since 1960, to use a word we hear often in the 21st century, we have “reinvented” ourselves from the use of typewriters to computers, from single life to marriage to divorce and widowhood, from volunteer activities to motherhood and to careers in science, business, education, and community service.

Now here we are, changed but unchanged, graduated now 50 years ago but still attached to the people, the place and the philosophy of Mary Institute.