It's a balancing act, this dean of students gig. Fred Alford
spends half his time explaining the College to the students, and the other half
explaining the students to the College.
Consider the Naked Nott Run. Alford must implore the offending
students to use discretion in what has become something of a rite of spring. At
the same time, though, he must feign shock and outrage to the employee who
witnesses the tradition during an early-morning stroll.
“I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people who lead better regulated lives that this kind of thing happens on campus,” he says.
Alford will soon be doing the explaining at Trinity
College in Hartford,
where he has accepted the dean of students job and where his daughter, Hascy,
will be a senior. Alford joined Union in 1987 as
assistant dean of students. He was promoted to dean of students in 1993.
“I
will miss Union tremendously,” he wrote in his resignation letter, “especially
the people who make working here so enjoyable – from Anna in Dutch Hollow, who
struggles to teach me Italian, to the charming but disheveled third-term senior
who prays for intervention from the Credit Fairy that he might graduate with
his class in three weeks. I will be lucky if Trinity is half as friendly or
interesting.”
“In
hundreds of ways, he has worked to improve student life here,” said President Roger
Hull in a campus e-mail. “I know he has always felt that the future of the
College rests, to a great extent, in the hands of students, and his encouragement
of their efforts has been influential in making this community stronger. In Union's
creation of a new social and residential life system, Fred also has been a
leading force. The advent of the House System is an exciting and important
initiative, and it will add a new dimension to campus life while retaining the
College's traditions.”
Of his time at Union, Alford says he
is especially proud of the changes that have happened in the residential
culture. An evaluation system for residence groups has transformed student
housing from a permanent entitlement to an earned privilege in which students
get housing at the pleasure of their peers. Among the milestones, Alford counts
the emergence of theme houses in the early 90s, the institution of sophomore
rush in 1998 and the House System in 2001. A range of students who are looking
for housing alternatives have “stepped up to take a stake in the place,” he
says.
Work and play
“Part of being dean is to cross the boundary between what we
do for work and what we do for play,” says Alford, a participant in intramurals
and the annual Student Forum dodge ball game. An accomplished guitarist and
singer, he has often performed folk music solo and with faculty and students at
coffeehouses and assemblies.
“It is like the difference between being captain and coach of a sports
team,” he says. “There are times when [the students] need to know that you
are the alpha dog.”
Alford and his wife, Jocelyn, have been frequent hosts of
students at their College-owned home on Lenox Road.
When a group of Chinese visitors joined the Alford family for Thanksgiving
dinner, the language barrier put a crimp in the exchange. Finally, Alford's
mother announced, “I'm going outside for a cigarette. Would anyone care to join
me?” A flurry of hands shot into the air, and “they spent the rest of the
evening with my mother in nicotine bliss,” he recalls.
He recalls participating in an event that took place when
the Idol was moved to Achilles Rink to make room for the F.W.
Olin Center.
During a ceremony that was part pagan ritual and part pep rally, Prof. Scott
Scullion read a speech, in Latin, that praised the “painted trollop” as the
protector of Union. The students chanted back, in Latin.
“All the reporters seemed impressed that we all spoke Latin,” Alford recalls.
Alford himself admits to breaking the rules only once, while
teaching his son, Sam, now 15, to ride his bike. A newspaper photographer
captured the father-son moment on the artificial turf at Frank Bailey Field and
the image appeared in the next day's paper. Dick Sakala, then the director of
athletics, wrote a note to Alford advising that he would be facing conduct
charges for breaking the rules at the field, where signs clearly prohibit bike
riding.
Alford says a lot of people think he has the worst job on
campus, charged with worrying about the welfare of the entire student body. He
disagrees, and explains that he has learned to put it in perspective. “People ask, 'How do you put your head down on a Saturday
night knowing there are 2,000 students on campus?' You don't think about it,”
he says. “You assume that everything will be alright and you act calmly when it's not.”
'Very approachable'
Alford, well known for using obscure metaphors and
references to movies and music, estimates that he has had more than 13,000 student meetings, nearly all under good circumstances.
“I think he's done a great job,” says Katrina Tentor '03,
editor emeritus of Concordiensis. “He's
very approachable, which is why so many students like him. It takes a special
someone to sit with random students and find out what they think about things.
He's truly interested in what people have to say.”
And from Andrew McCabe '03,
president of Student Forum, who had weekly meetings with the dean, “I learned a
lot, and yes, it often came in the form of a metaphor. It was a tremendous help to
get his take on things.”
McCabe and a number of other students remarked that
the House System will be Alford's legacy.
“He has the best interest of all the students at heart –
Greeks, independents, athletes – and he makes the campus enjoyable for everyone,”
says Angie DeSilva '03 who (with Emily Sweeney '03) has recruited Alford's support and
participation on the Relay for Life charity event. “He is really devoted to
what he does.”
Believing in mistakes
Of the times when he had to meet with students under
unpleasant circumstances, he says, “It is impossible to be dean of students and
not believe that people can learn from their mistakes.”
Several years ago, a student whom Alford had earlier
dismissed wrote, “One might think that being thrown out of school for a second
time would be somewhat devastating … but it is also strangely liberating.” The
student went on to describe how the experience had caused him to pursue his
passion for acting. He ended the letter, “May you never have to deal with
another student like me.”
Alford responded, “While yours was not the kind of education
we describe in our admissions brochures … it is apparent that you learned
much.” And he objected to the student's final phrase: “If I don't come across
more students like you, I don't want to be a dean.”