February 7, 2006
Going through its daily routine, the sun sets in Madurai, getting ready to rise in Chicago. The American College Community, after a day of hectic work, begins to unwind itself when my day starts in Chicago. One of my rituals in the morning –I arrive daily at my office around 7:30 a.m. – is to turn on my computer to read The Hindu on line for the day’s news in India as a way of staying in touch with my homeland, followed by a quick perusal of all e-mails in the inbox. Last week, I had a very pleasant surprise when I opened an e-mail from Dr. Premila Paul, inviting me to write an article for the College’s 125th anniversary. I readily said yes but didn’t know where to begin. What would I write about? Should I write about my student days at the College or my tenure as a professor in the department of mathematics? The decision was simple. My alma mater—The American College—had a profound impact on my life as a student and I decided to reflect upon my unforgettable student life.
It was 1960. I was summoned to meet with Principal S. J. Savarirayan along with another student. We both had applied for admission into the American College to major in physics, but there were only two seats available, one in physics and the other in mathematics. After a brief chat, Principal Savarirayan assigned the coveted physics seat to the other student (I do not remember his name), admitting me into B.Sc. mathematics with a place to live in Washburn Hall. That was the beginning of my golden days at American College.
Golden days indeed! When I say this, I am not referring to just what I learned in the classroom. Of course, I had a good education, but the learning environment outside the classroom – on the verandah, in the canteen, on the playing field, in the hostel, in the staff room, in the warden’s office – was something so special I cherish it everyday.
What do I remember now, after more than 40 years?
Every year, the student union elections were a grand and festive event. The electioneering process was an education all by itself. I remember myself contesting a big election in my first year – and losing big.
For many young politicians, appearing before American College students was a rite of passage to a political stage. Main Hall was always packed any time we had a speaker.
There is something else I remember. Before and after events in the Main Hall, the Ground Superintendent and his crew would rearrange all the chairs, making sure that all the rows and columns were in a straight line, not a single chair protruding even by an inch. The campus was beautiful, full of trees and bushes, nestling the magnificent classroom buildings. The workers took pride in paying meticulous attention to the green. And everyone, the ground crew as well as the students, staff, and faculty, all seemed to have a unique relationship with the flora of the campus. A majestic bell was rung to signify the beginning and the ending of classes. It was widely known to the College community that the attendant took pride in ringing the bell accurately to the second.
What else do I remember? One of my daily rituals was to listen to the music, the singing of hymns, coming from the 9:40-9:50 chapel service preceding the 10 o’clock classes.
I also remember standing on the sidelines, shouting at the top of my voice, along with hundreds of other students, encouraging the College hockey team in their good times and not so good times. Beating the arch rival, Medical College, in hockey was the number one goal in sports.
I remember my fellow students and me cutting classes en masse forcing the College to close the campus to participate in mass agitation against Chinese aggression.
I remember Washburn Hall gate being closed at 8:30 p.m., and anyone entering the hall after 8:30 p.m. had to see the warden the next morning.
Why do I remember these seemingly innocuous events? And what impact could these simple things have on a student’s life? While the classroom instruction provided all the skills that I needed to be a good mathematician, it was these complementary experiences that provided a comprehensive, “liberal Christian education.” These experiences taught me freedom, responsibility, discipline, and hard work—hallmarks of the American College education.
There is a stunningly beautiful Latin inscription in the emblem of the College: “Purificatus Non Consumptus,” which roughly translates as “To purify, not to consume.” It is about fire. Fire does not destroy gold, it purifies it. The academic journey at the College was always challenging, sometimes even rugged. The journey was filled with heat and light, the metaphysical fire, but at the end of the journey, as the students graduated from the College, they were free and strong, like shining gold. I hope American College will continue its rich tradition of providing excellent education inside and outside of the classroom, and that the future generations of students who enter the portals of the College will have a golden, liberal Christian education.