20th Reunion Weekend

 What happens when you bring a whole bunch of Oberlin alumni back to campus for a weekend in October? Kind of the same thing that would happen if you released a bunch of house cats in a room decked out with cushions and kitty condos, dangling tinsel balls and sun-baked patches of wooden floor. They nose each other cautiously, mill around, play a little, and settle into their own familiar grooves and patterns.

The first day of the weekend started out bright and sunny!

Most of us came with at least one good friend and intentionally reconnected with a few from the edges of our social networks. For me, the good friend was Sheena Ramirez who has also been a collaborator on creative projects during the 20 years since we graduated from college. We bought yarn and jewelry at local galleries, ate some seasoned tots at the Feve, danced awkwardly at the "Sco, and wandered the full width and length of campus, lamenting the toll it took on our 40-year-old legs but persisting nevertheless.

Standing in front of the house we lived in as seniors from 2005 - 2006 with Sheena and our dear friend Jordan

The three of us, plus five more of our closest friends in front of that house, May 2006

Oberlin ought to sell Autumn-themed snow globes. The charm of the campus architecture comes through best on cloudy days when bright patches of color crown the trees in Tappan Square and the fields in the arb. All the divergent passions of a bright but innocent student body and the faculty, staff, and neighbors who support them are contained in a 5-mile square. Less than 9000 people in all. 

Such a tiny place to hold the intensity of prismatic memory. During the weekend, many questions were asked about the value of a liberal arts education. I'm not sure I can offer any universally-true answers to those questions. I know I valued it because I cherish it still. My education did not provide me with a blueprint for success at every juncture in my life. But perhaps it created a multi-tool for me to carry in my pocket as I deal with change and let go of expectations. I can close my eyes and return to the place. Standing beneath the trees in Tappan Square, looking up at a sky the color of a Nibelung cat, feeling the breeze on my cheek blowing across unseen fields, pausing...

Walking in the Oberlin Arb, October 10, 2026