Reed prides itself for eschewing the US News & World Report's college rankings and other questionable attempts to shoehorn education into an array of doubtful statistics. But here's one list we can't resist: Huffington Post's "Nerdiest Colleges," which ranks Reed at #6, after MIT, Caltech, University of Chicago, Carnegie Mellon, Harvey Mudd, but ahead of Worcester Polytechnic and Carleton. Reed staples such as bike jousting and Nitrogen Day seem to have persuaded the reviewers of our nerd cred. Just as well they don't know we like reciting Homer in the original!
It's been several weeks, but I'm still recovering from Reunions 2011 and its glorious aftermath. Quite apart from the epic rugby match, the spectacular musical performances, and the phenomenal chance encounters, I found myself pondering anew the question that President Colin Diver posed at his centennial address. Stripped to its elements, how do you define Reed?
By Ethan Knudson '11
Ten decades of Reed were celebrated at Centennial Reunions in one-act plays rife with academic jokes, historical references, and the tumultuous emotions that permeate a return to campus.
Reedies from several decades stepped on stage in the chapel to play stressed-out seniors, hesitant freshmen, and even legendary philosophy professor Marvin Levich. In one scene, merry prankster Ken Kesey wrestles Owen, the freshman from Idaho, at an early Renn Fayre.
By Brandon Hamilton '11
No one likes to lose, and when the cost of defeat is an entire year's worth of timê, the stakes are high.
Never underestimate the power of Reedies. At a Centennial Reunions class on Thursday, June 9, I learned firsthand that all we need to create a tidal wave in our very own sports center swimming pool is two dozen Reedies and a leader with an understanding of classical physics.
Okay, perhaps "tidal" is a bit of an exaggeration of the wave's size. But it's no overstatement to say that we managed to slosh water out of both ends of the pool by doing nothing more than hopping in and out of the shallow end at the direction of Brad Wright '61. Brad gave an explanation of the physics of wave-making before the experiment began (here is an extended version of the video above, complete with full scientific explanation). I confess that between the poor acoustics of the pool deck and the anticipation of jumping in the water, most of the science to passed me by. I can tell you that coordination of the physics of the event required someone to stand at the pool's edge swinging the so-called Pendulum of Destiny, a group of four rubber duckies with a golf balls attached to their bases floating in the middle of the pool, and our willingness to hop in when the wave was at its highest point only to hop back out each time it ebbed to its lowest.
Brandon Hamilton '11
It's an ancient debate--are youth and speed a match for age and guile? At Centennial Reunions, Reedies traded eye goggles for mouth guards and lab coats for cleats to settle the question on the pitch as alumni from the eighties (the "First Fifteen") faced off against younger grads for a little post-thesis physics experiment.
By Ethan Knudson '11
Reed presidents past and present Paul Bragdon [1971-88], Steve Koblik [1992-2001], and Colin Diver [2002-] held a panel at Centennial Reunions to discuss how they surmounted immense challenges to preserve Reed College amidst financial and national turmoil (video).
By Alex Walker '12
The first lines of Homer's Iliad reverberated to the carved rafters of the chapel on Friday as Reedies of all generations were reunited in the shared experience of reliving their first Hum lecture during Centennial Reunions. However, there was a twist. On the back of the lecture handout (distributed by a beaming President Colin Diver, who marched up and down the aisles brandishing copies) was a timeline that began, not in Greece, but in Egypt. And the Homeric epic of choice for the semester was not the tale of Achilleus and his anger, but that of Odysseus and his quest to return home. As professor Wally Englert [classics 1981-] explained, the Hum syllabus has undergone some significant changes in the past year...
"We used to say 'The Greeks were strange,'" Englert noted, while discussing the inclusion of new material from other Mediterranean cultures on the reading list, "But I'm going to do something a little radical here and say: Ancient cultures were strange."
It's a cry familiar to freshmen from every decade of Reed's existence: "You're doing what? Hah! Back at Olde Reed..."
Yes, it's Olde Reed! That elusive golden age in which classes were harder, Renn Fayres were crazier, laurels were shinier, and hijinks were, er, jinkier. Olde Reed was always dead by your freshman year, unless you are telling the story, in which case it was dead by your listeners' freshman year. It was epic, it was extraordinary, and it was, in whatever indescribable fashion, better.
Ask anyone about Reed's campus and they are sure to mention the canyon. The 28-acre watershed--a critical part of the Crystal Springs Creek--is a beautiful sanctuary for observing wildlife, taking a walk, or simply gathering your thoughts. It's also, as one alumna put it, "very romantic."
Biology professor Keith Karoly agrees. "That's biology, too," he quipped during his presentation on science in the canyon, a lecture he gave June 8, as part of Centennial Reunions. The participation of the audience--alumni from the 1940s to the present--made it clear that the canyon is a central part of both Reed's and Reedies' identities.
Steven Raichlen '75 knows more about barbeque than Prometheus knew about fire. His stat sheet includes 26 books, five James Beard Awards, three IACP awards, a PBS-TV series, his own line of grilling tools, the founding of Barbeque University, a beat-down of Bobby Flay in a barbeque cook-off, a BA in French literature from Reed, and his liver has never been eaten by a raptor. Not to gloat, but another advantage over Prometheus.
"I'm not a chef," Raichlen told alumni celebrating Centennial Reunions this week. "Food, for me, has always been a window into culture."
By Brandon Hamilton '11
Several generations of activists assembled in the Chapel to trade insights, strategies, and stories as a part of Social Justice 101, one of more than 200 events being held this week to celebrate Centennial Reunions.
Speakers ranged from Peter Bergel '65, executive director of Oregon PeaceWorks, whose self-styled "graduate education" took the form of years of living in a commune, to professor Kristi Hansen '96, an agricultural economist who teaches at the University of Wyoming.
President Colin S. Diver announced today that he will retire at the end of the next academic year.
"I have loved Reed College more than any other institution for which I have worked, and I have loved being its president more than any other job I have ever held," Diver wrote in an email to the community. "But the time is approaching when I need to seek new challenges, strike out in new directions, and, yes, smell the flowers."
Great piece on Lloyd Reynolds by Brett Campbell in Willamette Week:
Click here for the full piece.
By Ethan Knudson '11
Uganda 1993: Sociologist and statistician Martina Morris '80 had just presented her sophisticated mathematical model on the spread of HIV to a conference attended by African elders.
In the back, a man raised his hand and asked, "Can your models account for having more than one partner at a time?"
When Morris admitted they didn't, the man walked out.
By Romel Hernandez
Shanaquewa Finney admits the reason she signed up for the class was because the flyer advertised that it was free.
Yes, there's still time.
Register for our spectacular Centennial Reunions, June 6-12. And check out a sampling of the incredible delights that await you. Rugby. Dance. Basketry. Majuscules. A HOT-AIR BALLOON. Gary Snyder '51. Eggdog. (No, not eggnog. Eggdog.) Tikkler. Davis Rogan '90 and the Allstar New Orleans Rhythm & Blues Revue. FERRIS WHEEL. Stand-up economics. Gilbert & Sullivan. Fireworks!
For more about Reunions, especially the amazing art that will be be everywhere on campus, see more on our sister blog, the Riffin' Griffin.
The Beard awards typically prompt a flurry of interest in the epic gastronome himself. Last year, I was absently grazing on canapés at a gala function in Old Town when, somewhere in between the niçoise olives and the goat cheese, I got embroiled in a conversation about him.
There was much jubilation and noise: Friday was thesis parade.
Congratulations to everyone completed a thesis this year. Wear your laurels with pride.