Thoughts from a visiting Skidmore professor.
I got the PhD in August 2013. A few days later, I packed my things and drove from the heart of Tennessee to Saratoga Springs. I lived the first 25 years of my life in Tennessee, but in leaving, there was no heavy-hearted contemplation, no soliloquy, no dramatic farewell. Congratulations, I pronounce you Doctor of Philosophy (whatever that means). We’ll see you around. Or not. The only thing on my mind as I walked for my bachelor’s degree was the upcoming challenge of the PhD; the only thing on my mind as I walked for my PhD was upcoming challenge of professorship. Now, as I start my final week of classes at Skidmore, I’m not fixating on the ever-peripheral past and future. Maybe for the first time, I’m allowing myself to focus on the remarkable moment at hand.
Apologies if the following sounds like a mediocre commencement address: Skidmore College is…
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