I do not know what President Neil L. Rudenstine told the class of 2000 on the occassion of its Harvard Convocation. I expect, however, that--if his address was anything like that which welcomed me in the fall of 1993--he evoked four years of promise, hope and change. I especially remember how he urged us to explore the extent of the school, to take risks and challenge our perceptions. This emphasis was memorable not because it unexpectedly illuminated my soul, but rather because it seemed somewhat banal and unnecessary. Who would not be open to newness, I wondered?

Now, entering my senior year, I understand better the significance of Rudenstine's injunction. At this fall's Radcliffe Convocation, I once again was lectured on the values of experimentation, when Gish Jen '77 reminded the audience of the magic of flexibility, the excitement of explotation. This time, I heeded these words not for their seeming platitude, but instead for their sudden truth, I am nearing the end of my four years, yet am still pursuing many of the same goals which I brought with me into Harvard Yard that first September afternoon of 1993.

I wondered (echoing the thoughts of many seniors before me) whether I had somehow failed to take advantage of the "true" college experience. But then I remembered where I was: Radcliffe Yard, a small quadrangle which is often overlooked by new students, but which stands for the most memorable of my college experiences. This Yard--and the buildings and people which is metaphorically encompasses as part of "Radcliffe College--epitomizes (for me at least) the possibilities of college itself.

An ideal college should serve as the final mediator in a gradual process of maturation. It should be the last bridge between unsophisticated adolescence, often a time when one learns of mass culture and peer acceptance, and unprotected adulthood, when one's purpose and schedule are entirely at one's own determination.

To be prepared for the unstructured and decidedly unnurturing reality of post-graduation life, graduating seniors should have certain skills. A capable graduate should be able to think, learn and question independently: Once outside of a university's gates, the task of learning becomes primarily the graduate's. More importantly, the graduate should have the confidence to follow the convictions and hunches which result from such inquiries. She or he should also be able to accept change and criticism as part of the life process; college can, and should, teach the importance of flexibility as well as of certitude.

In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig defines the true function of a university not as the inculcator of the tools of rote learning, but as the instiller of a life-long love of and respect for knowledge. He writes, "The real university...is that great heritage of rational thought that has been brought down to us through the centuries and which does not exist at any specific location. It's a state of mind, which is regenerated throughout the centuries by a body of people....The real university is nothing less than the continuing body of reason itself."

I would qualify this quote with the caveat that all forms of learning--not merely the traditional academic pursuits--are worthy of valuation. I suggest merely that every person should enter the "real world" with a passion for some pursuit, be it mechanics or music or philosophy.

If this description of the role of the university is accepted as correct--and I believe that the Convocation addresses of both Harvard and Radcliffe suggest its validity--then we, the students, must ask whether or not our school has served us appropriately. Regarding my own experience, I would answer this question with a qualified "yes." Harvard-Radcliffe has inspired, extended and challenged me. However, I feel that I owe my personal growth and expansion primarily to the later of the two colleges.

I realize that I am speaking from a somewhat unusual perspective. As current co-president of the Radcliffe Union of Students and past officer of various other Radcliffe organizations, I am one of a small group of women and men to have fully explored the opportunities of Radcliffe. Yet I still believe that my experience is representative, if somewhat of a caricature, of every person who has spent time within the meraphorical boundaries of Radcliffe Yard. (I say "metaphorical" so as to include the various research partnerships which take place outside the literal quadrangle.)

Harvard Yard, and the college which it represents, present many advantages and opportunities which Radcliffe cannot. Harvard College provides me with my professors, my living quarters and a more extensive set of resources. Still, Radcliffe's offerings have touched and changed me to a much greater extent than the more numerous opportunities at her sibling school. Radcliffe seems one of the few places at our college that fosters that personal growth which I identify as the measure of a true university experience.

Radcliffe has provided with me with occasions of experimentation with leadership roles and creative arts. It has also given me the security required to explore those areas in which I might not excel. In Radcliffe Yard, I feel the support of a tradition of bold (dare I say "remarkable"?) women who came before me; their unspoken strength has pushed me to try without always expecting to succeed. Moreover, through marvelous academic opportunities, such as Radcliffe Seminars, Bunting Fellowhsips and the Schlesinger Library, Radcliffe has communicated its committment to non-traditional students. This freedom for others has translated into a greater freedom for myself and for other undergraduates. This aspect of Radcliffe, too, encourages me to explore less conventionaly prestigious fields.

Much to my surprise and joy, these Radcliffe-inspired investigations have enabled me to glimpse new facets of myself. These are the discoveries which Rundenstine, Gish and Pirsig have identified as the hallmark of an education. I now feel that I, too, have contributed to the Radcliffe tradition. Through meetings in the Lyman Common Room, games of tag in the Yard and celebrations under the Radcliffe tent, I have identified and found acceptance for my individuality. I am always myself at Radcliffe.

Megan L. Peimer '97 is co-President of the Radcliffe Union of Students.