Loyola University Maryland - Evergreen / Green and Gray Yearbook (Baltimore, MD)

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Allen Barrett, Jr. — Director of Alumni Relations Bruce Bortz — Director of Public Relations George Causey — Director of the Physical Plant Michael Goff — Director of Development Jeanne Lombardi, R.N., N.P. — Coordinator, Health Services Thomas O’Connor — Director of Athletics Ronald K. Parnell — Director of Security Mr. Goff Mr. O ' Connor Mr. Barrett Faculty Administration 29

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Mr. Parnell Mr. Causey Mr. Bortz 28 Faculty Administration

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What’s Past Is Prologue By Thomas E. Scheye, Ph.D. Academic Vice President “My theme is memory.” This is a book of memories, to be leafed through casually at first but carried along through the rest of your life — one day consigned to the shelf or stored in the attic and forgotten — until sometime it is rediscovered. And if the spine creaks, if the pages have mildewed, some of the memories will be fresh, still alive. What will you remember from those years at Loyola? Some of the practical things you learned along the way — how to ask for a room with bath in a foreign country or solve an equation, how to read a balance sheet or explain the Civil War. But all of that translates to marks on a transcript, not memories. What you are likelier to remember is the teacher you got by, the term paper you stayed up all night to write, the exam you passed on two hour’s study, the class you cut to sleep or finish a game or lie in the sun and contemplate the breeze blowing. Your taking liberties like that is not exactly what your teachers had in mind by liberal arts education, but it is not far off. All of it sounds less practical 1 know. After all you came to college because you were convinced you needed a diploma to succeed and chose courses that would help you ride the comput- er wave or pass the CPA exam or get into med school. But on that day in the future when you look back to Loyola, those practical decisions aren’t going to seem so very practical or decisive anymore. If you are like most people who ever went to college, there is at least one day from the past four years you will always remem- ber, a good friend you will never lose and, if you are very lucky, an idea or inspiration that changed the way you thought about yourself or viewed the world or lived your life. Loyola’s hope for you is that someday you are the kind of person who does look back that way, who remembers and re- flects, someone who values, in Matthew Arnold’s abiding phrase, “the free play of the mind upon all subjects.” That is the vision underlying the liberal arts: to liberate, to make you free. The skills you need to make a living are part of that vision. In their origin, the liberal arts referred precisely to the arts or skills that were the province of free men as opposed to the work which was performed by slaves. In our time the distinction still holds. College has prepared you for a good job, though not only in the sense you had in mind when you came to college. A good job means more than one that pays well; it involves good work, work that is useful and fulfilling, that involves service as well as self, that challenges you to become the most you can attain, that harnesses your energies to an ideal. That is what is meant by the work of free men and women. Freedom also implies leisure, time free from the necessities of getting and spending. The liberal arts are meant to be instruc- tive for making a good living but also for living a good life. There is no formula for either of course. In your work you will acquire skills undreamed of when this is being written; living a good life is also an acquired skill. Much of what you learned in college was meant to help. The liberal arts do not provide a road map to comfort and happiness though. Their appeal is more oblique and subtle. Those courses which may have seemed irrelevant because they supplied no useful information, no practical skills, were issuing a challenge. Their subject matter was beauty or truth, or perhaps beauty and truth, and their challenge was to raise questions, the very questions you asked yourself and then evaded for more immediate pursuits. Suppose that what Shakespeare and Socra- tes are saying is true, you asked yourself, what does that have to do with me? In other words, if this is true what should I do about it? Exactly! You will probably never know the answer to those questions for sure, but what is more sure is that you will spend a good part of your life trying to answer them. It will be time well spent.