Dearest Lois Begitske DeFleur,
When I leave this place, as I will in a few weeks, I hope to have few regrets beyond the obvious remorse that often stings the heels of students preparing to graduate. I know that in your eyes I am leaving Binghamton University armed with the invincible shield of a college degree (albeit in the liberal arts) and what Harpur College might declare to be “perspective.”
But as I prepare to study for my last panicked finals, all I feel is a chilling sting at the base of my spine, and I know that I will miss you and regret that you’ve been, well, missing for my three years here.
I could have used this space to praise what has changed me the most: Pipe Dream, which taught me everything I ever learned in college. But I’ve had plenty of time in this office and nearly none in yours.
Together you and I could have at least put to rest the long unfortunate tradition of icy relations between the president’s office and Pipe Dream editors in chief. And, bearing in mind how woefully inaccessible you are to the student body, I could have also gained some sort of insight into your mysterious and fabled life.
Allow me to graduate from this fine institution with a few parting words of advice I often wish someone had given me:
Be honest. This University has been starving for a compassionate expression of truth from you, particularly one that doesn’t try to shamelessly promote this campus. Sometimes I feel as though I’m studying at a marketing machine designed to pump out soundbites and pump in funding, and though there are things about this place that are wonderful, some things are broken and they do need fixing, no matter how much we all want to ignore them. When students protest behind you, don’t ignore them. When a report or a ratio shows that an area of this University has been neglected, don’t discount it. At the very least, spinning the truth like that makes you frown, and frowning makes you wrinkle.
Be yourself. You’re a 71-year-old lady who flies her own Comanche 260 to meetings and who wears explosively colorful blazers and matching necklaces without fear. At any other campus, you’d be the world’s coolest university president, but you seem to always come off as some sort of robot. Instead of speaking only through a mouthpiece, take a risk and say something ingenuous and sincere once in a while. I know you’ve been burned by the press (including this one), but if you walk around campus freely (and not to the Susquehanna Room, that’s not a real dining hall and you know it), you might discover what really makes this University a great place to learn, and what can make it even better (hint: it’s not a Rec Center or a $400,000 sign).
But as I’ve realized, both you and Pipe Dream have existed for over 60 years without me, and you both have a strong chance of lasting another 60. Keep your heads up, and keep striving to make this place a little better. I know that you already do.
With all my love,
Alana Casanova-Burgess