Dear members of the Kenyon College community,
Almost like clockwork, when the calendar rolls from July to August, I can’t help but do a mental tally of all I had hoped to accomplish over the summer. Books read, chapters written, files (and closets) organized — my summer aspirations are always outsized. With effectively two weeks left to tackle what feels like a year’s worth of ambition, I’m tempted to say that August, not April, is the cruelest month of the year. That is, until I look around me.
Nearly 70 Kenyon students, mentored by more than 40 faculty, are wrapping up research this month in labs, libraries and a rich array of local lands — all part of Kenyon’s summer research programs. Their subjects are as varied as the faculty they have teamed up with: barn swallows, semiconductors, Neanderthals, economic development in 19th century America, migrant workers in Japan, the formation of the early universe, to name a few. All opportunities come with a stipend and housing; many are supported or endowed by alumni eager to ensure that these kinds of high-impact experiences are available to as many Kenyon students as possible.
These programs are just a few of the moving parts in an intricate campus choreography that defines a Kenyon summer. This year we hosted 36 camps with nearly 2,000 guests, including our growing pre-college program, Camp IV; The Kenyon Review’s signature Young Writers Program; and Total Performance Swim Camps. Thirty-three incoming Kenyon students were in residence for the KEEP/STEM summer leadership program. In between, the facilities and residential life staff are busy readying apartments and residence halls for new occupants. The historic renovation of Bexley Hall and construction of the new south campus residence halls have reached the stages where every day brings a new transformation. Bexley is expected to be completed this fall and the first south campus residence hall is on track for opening in 2024.
These activities and many others are all oriented toward the arrival of students this fall, currently numbering 1,784, with another 131 studying off campus, the most since the pandemic. This includes 487 first-year and transfer students. Kenyon students have many options and, like Kenyon faculty and staff, each one has made a deliberate decision to be here. They are thoughtfully supported in their college search by a dedicated team of admissions and financial aid professionals, but they choose Kenyon — and we can all be proud of the role we play in recruiting and welcoming each class.
Following two years of greater than expected enrollment, we aimed for a smaller entering class this year. While we were intentional in doing so, our enrollment colleagues observed more strain than is typical. Equal parts art and science, this work has become more challenging in recent years. Pandemic-related shifts such as the expansion of test-optional admissions have changed the patterns of where students apply and where they get in, making predicting enrollment at any institution more difficult. We can expect continued volatility as colleges make adjustments to stay true to both their mission and the recent Supreme Court ruling and other state and legal action. Necessary survey work has been done and will continue with prospective students and families to better understand their values, interests and needs.
With more than 80% of our operating budget funded by tuition, we have always managed our finances with great care and will do so even more judiciously as enrollment remains unpredictable. In budgeting for the 2023-2024 year, we prioritized financial aid, salaries and benefits, and health and safety — that is, our people. We are fortunate that, through the generosity of more than 21,000 donors to the Our Path Forward to the Bicentennial campaign, we are also able to continue making critical investments in our historic campus while expanding long-term resources for financial aid and an enhanced academic and student experience. The campaign will culminate in Kenyon’s bicentennial year, 2024, and I have every confidence that our third century will be our strongest yet.
I did not accomplish all I had planned for the summer. No closets were organized, but I did make modest progress on my summer reading list. Some of you will remember Yascha Mounk’s talk on campus in the spring. His book “The Age of Responsibility: Luck, Choice, and the Welfare State” is a fascinating and challenging amalgam of sociology, philosophy and political science. “The Sagas of Icelanders” brought me back to the bold, brutal and funny world of the North Atlantic in the Middle Ages. Attentive readers will learn lessons about loyalty, bravery, industry, ship-building, generosity, and greed. And how could one not want to follow the exploits of Earl Thorir the Silent, Berg the Bold, Eyvind the Proud, Hallfred the Troublesome Poet, Erlend Johnson the Torpid, Halfdan Eysteinsson the Mild and Meal-Stingy, and, not least, Aud the Deep-Minded? I’m in the middle of George Saunders’ “A Swim in the Pond in the Rain” — its genre-defying brilliance is teaching me lessons about reading and writing short stories.
It is not surprising that most of us at Kenyon believe that there are important lessons to be learned from reading books. But looking at the natural world around us teaches its own lessons. One morning a couple of weeks ago, I watched an osprey snatch a very large fish from a lagoon. Having impaled the fish with its talons, the bird obligingly, majestically, and a little cheekily perched on a branch near where I was having my own breakfast — giving me a perfect seat from which to witness the unfolding drama. After patiently waiting for writhing to become twitching and the twitching cease altogether, the osprey turned to its meal with relish and precision. The sudden shift from the ferocity of the fish’s capture to the delicate connoisseurship of the osprey’s meal was remarkable. The bird proceeded as if navigating a Michelin-starred omakase.
Claude Lévi-Strauss wrote that “animals are good to think with.” At Kenyon, we might all be further primed to recognize the lessons to be drawn from animals (real or imaginary) by David Foster Wallace’s memorable 2005 commencement address, “This is Water,” which prominently features an imagined conversation among three fishes. I took overlapping lessons from my osprey and its breakfast. From the fish, snatched abruptly from a placid lagoon as it went about its morning routine on a mild July morning, I take the lesson that you should cherish your daily swim; it may be your last. From the osprey, I take the lesson that we should enjoy our meals with focus and gratitude.
I look forward to seeing you on campus in a couple of weeks.
Yours,
Jeffrey Bowman
Acting President