Roxbury Latin Newsletter: Summer 2020 by Marcus Miller

T HE N EWS LET TER

SUMMER 2020

headmaster

Kerry P. Brennan assistant headmaster

Michael T. Pojman director of external relations

Erin E. Berg director of development

Thomas R. Guden ’96 photography

Gretchen Ertl, John Gillooly, Marcus Miller, Mike Pojman, Adam Richins, Evan Scales, John Werner editorial & design

Erin E. Berg, Marcus C. Miller the newsletter

The Roxbury Latin School publishes The Newsletter quarterly for alumni, current and former parents, and friends of the school. contact information

The Roxbury Latin School 101 St. Theresa Avenue West Roxbury, MA 02132 Phone: 617-325-4920 change of address?

Send updated information to julie.garvey@roxburylatin.org. alumni news

Send notes and correspondence to alumni@roxburylatin.org. cover

Summer 2020

The Newsletter SUMMER 2020 | VOLUME 93 | NUMBER 4

This fall, the Admission Office will bring prospective students to campus with virtual tours shot with a 360-degree camera. The camera's equirectangular images form unique images, called "Tiny Planets," like this one of the Bauer Science Center. Photo by Marcus Miller

Features 12

Making Music in Quarantine: Director of Music Rob Opdycke explains the process of taking Recital Halls online | by MARCUS MILLER

Recognizing Art Form Within Art Forms: A new approach for RL’s youngest learners | by MEREDITH REYNOLDS

A (Virtual) Celebration of Creative Writing

Prize Day and Valete

Honoring the Class of 2020

“Much will be expected.” | The Valedictory Remarks of Avi Attar ’20

“As we are now, you will be.” | Board President Bob O’Connor ’85 delivers Commencement Address

Frontline Reflections: Ten Roxbury Latin alumni share their personal thoughts and perspectives about the COVID-19 pandemic.

What Were Classes Like This Spring?

375th Anniversary Highlights >> Nobel Prize-Winning Economist Esther Duflo On Tackling Poverty >> Faculty Flashback: A Conversation with Joe Kerner | by MIKE POJMAN >> Ramblings from the Archives

Varsity Athletics: A Year in Review

Departments 4

RL News

Class Notes & In Memoriam

Clockwise from top: Avi Attar, David LaFond, Ian Richardson, and Chris Zhu.

Four Seniors Named National Merit Scholars This spring, the National Merit Scholarship Program announced its selection of 2,500 scholarship winners, chosen from a pool of 15,000 talented high school seniors across the country. These members of the Class of 2020 will each receive $2,500 scholarships toward college next year. Among these outstanding students are four members of Roxbury Latin’s Class of 2020: Avi Attar, David LaFond, Ian Richardson, and Chris Zhu.

received commendations, meaning their scores placed them in about the top four percent of all test-takers. All seven of RL’s semifinalists moved on to become finalists, of which there were 15,000 nationally. From there, Avi, David, Ian, and Chris were selected from that group after rigorous review of their RL transcripts, standardized test scores, contributions to and leadership in school and community activities, essays, and recommendation letters.

The National Merit Scholarship Program selection process began in October 2018, when more than 1.5 million juniors took the PSAT, or the National Merit Scholarship Qualifying Test (NMSQT). This initial screen identified 16,000 Semifinalists, representing less than one percent of the nation’s highest scores. Roxbury Latin had seven semifinalists in a class of 52. Eighteen additional RL boys

It is a great honor to have four National Merit Scholarship winners in one senior class, a result we have not seen in recent memory. Our National Merit Scholarship winners, in fact, comprise almost eight percent of this year’s graduating class. Congratulations to all 25 boys who received recognition from the National Merit Scholarship Program this year. //

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Latonics Release Newest Album: Lose Yourself Again On May 21, Roxbury Latin’s Latonics released their eleventh album since 1997—this one titled Lose Yourself Again. The tracks (a total of 12) are available on most digital platforms, including iTunes, Amazon Music, Google Play, Spotify, and Pandora. The recordings feature vocals from members of the Class of 2017 through the Class of 2021. Rob Opdycke, RL’s Director of Music, was the album’s recording engineer, and the tracks were produced—edited and mixed—by Plaid Productions. Erik Zou ’19 created the cover art for the album, the title of which is drawn from a lyric in the second track, “Jump Right In” by Zac Brown Band.

Every year, members of the Latonics vote on which songs to include, and about six tracks per year are chosen. Each vocalist records his part one at a time, listening to a MIDI export of the arrangement in his headphones. Backstage-left of the Smith Theater has served as the group’s recording studio for the past decade, since Mr. Opdycke took over recording engineer duties. Lose Yourself Again is the first Latonics album to be released on all major digital platforms. Past Latonics albums are currently available as CDs only, but the most recent of them will also be available on digital and streaming platforms in the coming months. //

Track List Animal (Neon Trees) arr. Eric Chung – Nick Chehwan ’20, solo

Love Me Now (John Legend) arr. Ryan Chipman ’12 – Nick Chehwan, solo

Jump Right In (Zac Brown Band) arr. Jack Golden ’18 – Ben Lawlor ’18, solo

Cleopatra (The Lumineers) arr. Ben Lawlor – Ben Lawlor, solo

Sing to You (John Splithoff) arr. RCO – Nick Chehwan, solo

Leave the Night On (Sam Hunt) arr. T.J. Silva ’17 – Xander Boyd, solo

The Real (Busty and the Bass) arr. RCO – Xander Boyd ’17, solo

Valerie (The Zutons) arr. Similar Jones – Ian Kelly ’17, solo

Good Grief (Bastille) arr. RCO – Reis White ’18, solo

Imagine (John Lennon) arr. Pentatonix – Andrew White ’18, Reis

Brand New (Ben Rector) arr. Jack Golden – Ben Lawlor, solo

White, Kalyan Palepu ’19, and Nick Chehwan, solos

All on Me (Devin Dawson) arr. Christian Landry ’20 – David Ma ’18, solo

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RL’s Penn Fellows Complete and Share Their Culminating Work Since 2012, the University of Pennsylvania’s Graduate School of Education has partnered with independent schools throughout the northeast to allow early career teachers to earn a master’s in education while simultaneously gaining classroom experience. In 2017, Roxbury Latin became one of ten schools in the program’s first day school cohort. Since that time, RL has welcomed two new Penn Fellows to the faculty each year. These Fellows spend their two years with our community filling many roles at school; they are gifted generalists, much like our boys. They are primarily graduate students—taking online courses, attending weekly classes led by on-site administrators, and traveling to four weekend or week-long sessions annually at Penn and other partner schools. But because the Penn program is grounded in both theory and practice, Fellows are simultaneously coaching, advising, and, most important, teaching their own classes at RL. In May, RL’s two second-year Fellows, Visaury Moreta and Chris Brown, concluded their degree program in a very unusual way. Like the rest of us, Visaury and Chris finished the school year virtually, presenting for their Penn program in recorded videos and teaching their RL courses—Spanish 1 and 2 for Visaury, and AP Economics and History 7 for Chris—via Zoom. Chris’s lacrosse season was canceled, and Visaury’s debaters missed their final competitions of the year. Despite these challenging circumstances, however, Visaury and

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Chris were able to complete the Penn program’s culminating experience—the in-depth capstone inquiry project—which they presented to both their Penn cohort and the RL faculty. Visaury’s inquiry project sought to answer the question: How can I build feedback and assessment practices that support students in understanding Spanish grammar? In her first years as a teacher, Visaury found that her go-to assessment practice— traditional “red marks” on assignments large and small—left students so overwhelmed with feedback that they actually missed her key points. Through observations, journaling, surveys, and compositions, Visaury established a better practice for her students using what education researchers call the “draft-plus” method, or the “Feedback Loop.” Visaury would not grade students on their first draft of work. Instead, she would use the opportunity for feedback and allow students to ask questions about that feedback in class before redoing the assignment. That final assignment received a grade. Visaury’s research saw incredible results, particularly in how her students felt about feedback. At the beginning of the year, the majority of her students associated the word “feedback” with negative emotions like nervousness or anxiety. By the end of the year, their attitudes had completely transformed; most students were using words like hopeful, determined, or relieved to describe how they felt about feedback.

“Since 2017, RL has welcomed two new Penn Fellows to the faculty each year. These Fellows spend their two years with our community filling many roles at school; they are gifted generalists, much like our boys. They are primarily graduate students—taking online courses, attending weekly classes led by on-site administrators, and traveling to four weekend or week-long sessions annually at Penn and other partner schools.”

In his own inquiry project, Chris explored how humor might be a powerful catalyst for an effective learning environment. In his Class I AP Economics course, Chris built humor into his daily lesson plans and assignments, made an effort to engage in unplanned humor, and deliberately encouraged student humor on a daily basis. Through journaling, focus groups, surveys, and student work, Chris found that humor made many concepts easier for his students to retain, and it relieved stress in a class that students found challenging. He also found that his humor made students feel as though they could relate to Chris on a personal level, allowing him to be more effective in his work with them. Chris concluded that while each class and teacher is different, there is no one in our community who cannot employ humor to help students achieve their goals. And now Visaury and Chris are looking forward to next year. Visaury will be joining the Spanish faculty at St. Mark’s School in Southborough. At Roxbury Latin we are thrilled that Chris will be staying on in the fall, as AP economics and IPS teacher, coach, and member of the history and science departments. //

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Senior Chris Zhu Earns First Place in American Prize for Piano Solo This spring, Chris Zhu ’20 was named the first-prize recipient in the nonprofit American Prize competition in the performing arts, at the high school level, for his piano solo submission. Chris began studying piano at age five and entered his first competition at age eight. He has performed at various high-profile venues—including Carnegie Hall and Steinway Hall in New York, and Symphony Hall in Boston—and has received numerous awards for his piano performances, including a second place in the Bradshaw and Buono International Piano Competition; four first-prize awards in the Massachusetts Music Teachers Association Bay State Contest; two prizes at the Steinway Society of Massachusetts Piano Competition; one first-prize award in the senior division of the University of Rhode Island piano extravaganza; and a second-place award in the intermediate group of American Protege International Piano and String Competition. An accomplished violinist, Chris has also received the top prize from the Roman Totenberg Young Strings Competition and has played First Violin for

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orchestras at the New England Conservatory Prep School and the Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra. The American Prize was founded in 2009 and is awarded annually. Unique in scope and structure, the prize is designed to evaluate, recognize, and reward the best performers, ensembles, and composers in the United States based on submitted recordings. The American Prize has attracted thousands of qualified contestants from all fifty states since its founding; has awarded nearly $100,000 in prizes in all categories since 2010; and is presented in many areas of the performing arts. The competitions of the American Prize are open to all U.S. citizens, whether living in this country or abroad, and to others currently living, working, or studying in the U.S. It is the nation’s most comprehensive series of contests in the classical arts. The contest is administered by Hat City Music Theater, Inc., a nonprofit organization based in Danbury, Connecticut. //

Jonathan Weiss Wins ASCAP Young Composers Award This spring, Jonathan Weiss ’20 was awarded the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers (ASCAP) Young Composers award. This annual competition is open to composers of original, classical concert music, encouraging developing music creators to get their work out into the world. Jonathan was seven when he was given a toy keyboard for Christmas and picked out “Ode to Joy” by ear. He has been composing ever since. Now, his music is rooted in literature, art, and history. For the last five years, Jonathan has been submitting work to the ASCAP Young Composers competition at the encouragement of his composition teacher at the New England Conservatory, Rodney Lister; his Roxbury Latin composition teacher, Howard Frazin; and Roxbury Latin’s Director of Music, Rob Opdycke. Jonathan has been named a finalist a number of times, but this marks the first year he has been named among ASCAP’s 20 winning composers between the ages of 10 and 30.

Jonathan’s winning piece, titled “The Strongest Tree Bends in the Wind,” was written last year in collaboration with the musical duo David Leach (RL Class of 2009) and Julia Connor, who together make up Room to Spare. Originally, Jonathan wrote the piece for a Hall presentation delivered from the Rousmaniere stage. Collaborating with other composers was new for Jonathan, and he had a great time working with Julia, a classical violinist, and David, a jazz musician and composer. All of their feedback on Jonathan’s piece, he said, “was perfect.” Next year, Jonathan is heading off to Yale, where his dream is to be in touch with Martin Bresnick, faculty composer at Yale School of Music, to study composition. He promises to continue to “pump out pieces” to send to ASCAP. For now, he feels honored to have received this award, which will allow him to become a member of ASCAP and publish his work. //

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Scot Landry Presents a Memorable, Virtual Holy Week Hall As people around the world stayed in their homes in April to slow the spread of COVID-19, it was perhaps fitting that Christians were observing Lent—a time when it is commonplace to “give something up,” to sacrifice, and to prioritize reflection. Roxbury Latin’s (virtual!) Hall speaker—to share his reflections on Lent, Holy Week, and Easter—was Scot Landry. Mr. Landry serves as co-leader for the Dynamic Parish Initiative at Dynamic Catholic, an organization providing resources to the Catholic Church in America. He has served in a number of leadership and consulting positions for Catholic organizations, including the Archdiocese of Boston, where he was Cabinet Secretary for Catholic Media and Cabinet Secretary for Institutional Advancement. He has committed his time and talents at St. Paul’s Choir School, Our Sunday Visitor, Catholic Voices USA, and as a strategy consultant and executive search professional for Catholic ministries. He is also the father of two RL boys—Christian ’20 and Dominic ’24. Central to RL’s mission and tradition is tending to the spiritual growth of our boys, and we hear frequently from speakers throughout the year about topics of faith, spirituality, and living with purpose. In these challenging times, these topics seem all the more vital and pressing.

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Mr. Landry explained to the students that, growing up, he went through “the religious motions,” as he called them. He practiced through attending church with his family and observing holidays, but he always had one question looming in the back of his young mind: “Isn’t faith boring?” In college, however, his faith began to deepen—he moved from going through the motions to “awe and wonder”—and he learned to embrace and even lean into his doubts about his Catholic faith. His life of spiritual exploration, in other words, began to take shape. As Mr. Landry spoke to the RL community about the meaning and traditions of Holy Week, he described the many massive claims that Christianity makes, from immaculate conception to walking on water to resurrection. “Bold claims,” he said, “are never boring.” Mr. Landry encouraged students, faculty, and staff to ponder the mysteries of faith, to reflect on its key questions, and to spend time cultivating our “soul knowledge.” This is separate from “head” or even “heart” knowledge, he told us; it is the knowledge of faith. This spring seemed the perfect time for this Hall and this call for inner exploration. As we navigated a situation so completely out of our control and were met with newfound time in our homes, nurturing soul knowledge seemed within our capacity and more important than ever. //

evidence, the data, the memoir literature, and the documentation, and you make informed hypotheses. This is the best that you can do.” His talk brought listeners from the teachings of the early Church of Christianity and the Crusades, through Communism, the Great Depression and the Holocaust, all connected by a thread of anti-Semitism: “When a people is held in contempt for a very long period of time, what develops is a folklore about that people. And the folklore about the Jews is very, very hostile. You see it in the woodcuts, in the paintings of the medieval and the early modern period, the idea that the Jews have tails and horns, that they kill Christian boys and girls at the time of Passover… This is absolute nonsense, but thousands upon thousands of Jews will be killed, and even more Jews will be forced to leave their countries, because of an eruption of anti-Jewish sentiment.”

Dr. Stephen Berk on AntiSemitism, the Holocaust, and Moving Toward a Hopeful Future On April 16, Roxbury Latin students, faculty, and staff welcomed Dr. Stephen Berk as one of the spring’s virtual Hall presenters. Dr. Berk is the Henry and Sally Schaffer Professor of Holocaust and Jewish Studies at Union College. He has earned an international reputation for his teaching, writing, and research surrounding Russian and Soviet Jewish History, the American Jewish experience, and anti-Semitism, among other topics. He teaches a variety of history courses at Union; directs the college’s interdepartmental program in Russian and Eastern European Studies; and helps advise the Hillel organization. He is also great uncle to Daniel Berk ’21 and Adam Berk ’19. In this year, marking the 75th anniversary of the liberation of the Nazi concentration camp at Auschwitz-Birkenau, Dr. Berk spoke about the anti-Jewish sentiment embedded in Western civilization—its origins, its evolution, and the many tragedies it has spurred. “The historiography on the Holocaust is voluminous,” Dr. Berk began. “I begin with causation, but I must caution you that this is not mathematics. This is not physics. You cannot say in history A plus B produces C. You look at the

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In his presentation, Dr. Berk aimed to communicate several important messages: First, we must never minimize the role of personality—individual humans and their motivations—as we shape our understanding of historical events. (Dr. Berk cited Hitler’s deep hatred for Jews as well as his unique style of leadership as an example: “No Hitler, no Holocaust,” he said.) His second message spoke to how we choose to move through the world today. He implored all in attendance never to remain silent in the face of discrimination: “Be careful of racism. Be careful of any form of discrimination, whether it is based on race, religion, gender, ethnicity, class. The road to Auschwitz was paved by anti-Semitism, and when anti-Semitic words or acts are left unchecked, their power and danger only grow.” Dr. Berk also reminded students that science and medicine without ethics can lead to catastrophe. “Some of the people who are responsible for the murder of Jews were some of the most sophisticated scientific minds in Germany.” In closing, Dr. Berk extolled the heroes of World War II: the soldiers who headed knowingly and bravely into German and Japanese fire; the individuals who sheltered Jewish men, women, and children from the Nazis, under penalty of death to them and their families. “Study the Holocaust well, my friends,” implored Dr. Berk, “and remember that nobody has a monopoly on the truth. I’ve only given you some of the lessons, you can derive other lessons. Study the Holocaust well, and then maybe we can make the 21st century the best century that humanity has ever experienced.” //

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Music Making in

Quarantine by marcus miller

As the Coronavirus spread last spring—closing venues, postponing events, and forcing gatherings online—live music was one of the first artistic sacrifices. From Broadway and Coachella to Coldplay and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, artists stayed offstage and their patrons stayed home. Roxbury Latin was no different. “The first thing that was pulled was the spring Glee Club tour,” says Director of Music Rob Opdycke. “We had to decide that in February, and then we decided we would at least postpone A Cappella Fest, our culminating Latonics concert. And then one thing led to another and soon school itself couldn’t happen.” When students returned from spring break, classes moved online, the spring sports season was wiped off the

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calendar, and the school’s many, celebratory musical events were canceled. RL’s spring calendar typically brims with performances, from collaborations with the Winsor School and the Senior Concert, to the end-of-year Instrumental Concert. As part of the school’s 375th anniversary celebration, a special alumni performance featuring Berman Artists-inResidence Gilles Vonsattel ’99, Stefan Jackiw ’03, and Lev Mamuya ’14 had to be put on hold. But there was hope that, even from a distance, students could still share their art. “I know these boys are resourceful,” says Mr. Opdycke. “They're talented, and I saw the buy-in necessary to make this work a different way. Then I saw Paul Simon perform American Tune, presumably from his home, and I thought here's this artist I’ve admired forever, who’s just singing simply, but making music that touched me. It was a song I’d known,

but hearing it in a different context made me think. Over spring break the Internet was filled with group music projects, where people from different locations were putting their music together, and people were creating music from their homes with what they had available, and it inspired me to realize, ‘We can do that, too.’” During the final two months of the year, the music department released two virtual Recital Halls, a virtual Chamber Hall, and two digital collaborations—a performance of Justin Timberlake’s Mirrors, by the Latonics, and Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing, by the Glee Club. “The virtual, at-home performances are the most straightforward” says Mr. Opdycke. “We have a shared folder in the cloud and students just submit their recording. We were looking for solo performances, but also any duos and trios within a home. I was very proud of having Justin Shaw ’23 and his father, Dr. Stanley Shaw, performing a father-son duo. It was great to have so many brother duos and trios, quarantined together, making music, because that live musicmaking is still the most essential.” Group performances—from chamber ensembles, the Latonics, or the Glee Club—are more complicated. The first step requires finding source material in the form of a recording of a rehearsal, video of a previous performance, or a MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) file. “It was actually a parent who had recorded and posted Mirrors to YouTube,” says Mr. Opdycke. “The Latonics listened to their only public performance [of the song] from the Wick Choral Festival at St. Mark’s in late January. The boys were told to listen in their headphones to that performance, to sing their part, and to have their phone recording themselves singing with confidence. There is a significant degree of difficulty if you’re not used to that sort of studio recording environment.” Those student recordings were sent to Mr. Opdycke, who then combined the files. “There are two things that need to happen: Producing the audio, which involves more of the X axis—getting the timing just right and tightly edited—than it does the mixing (which

"I know these boys are resourceful— They're talented, and I saw the buy-in necessary to make this work a different way." is really sort of the Z axis, if the Y axis is pitch). There is very little pitch change that you bother doing because they should be good. But it’s all about synching it up just right. I did that work myself in Logic Pro, an Apple program. I took all of the videos, imported them to Logic, and lined them up.” From there, the students took over. “I think the best outcome was finding boys who were willing to give video a try, whether or not they felt like they were experts,” says Mr. Opdycke. “Eli Bailit ’22 volunteered and then realized he didn't quite have the hard drive space or the computing power to do it all, so his partner-in-crime, Ale Philippides ’22 jumped in to help.” The most widely viewed of any of RL’s virtual performances was the Glee Club’s rendition of Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing,

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"Lift Ev'ry

Voice and Sing is an RL tradition,” says Mr. Opdycke. “In these times especially, when racial justice is at the forefront, it resonates even more deeply, since it is known as the Black National Anthem."

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which, between YouTube and Facebook, has been viewed more than 17,200 times. “Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing is an RL tradition,” says Mr. Opdycke. “In these times especially, when racial justice is at the forefront, it resonates even more deeply, since it is known as the Black National Anthem. Roxbury Latin has included that hymn as part of our Senior Concert for as long as I’ve been here. “We’ve received the most affirmation from the public on that piece. So many people, with no affiliation to RL, have shared it and commented that it’s great to see a diverse group of young men singing this song that’s so meaningful right now. We conceived of it and and produced it because it’s part of RL, but since George Floyd’s murder and the resulting national awakening about racial justice it’s had a much more immediate, meaningful resonance.

Opdycke. “Nothing compares to live, in-the-space music making. Music is a living art form that happens in real time. Music has a start and an end on the time axis, and musicians breathe together (though breathing’s a very dangerous thing these days!). They initiate the music together, they respond and react in real time, as if dancing, with real-time decisions and reactions. That whole process is central to the beauty and the profound art of music. Nothing can compare to that. I’m longing for—and growing out my beard until I have!—the chance to make live, in-person music with fellow musicians, students, colleagues. In the absence of that possibility, however, I am pleased that boys are able to participate in these other, virtual ways.” //

“These are busy boys, and they have different levels of comfort singing on their own, without people around them, but we had 40 singers involved in that performance—just under half of the total Glee Club. That took hours and hours to edit, and Eddie Conley ’20, who has never really been involved in the music department before, stepped up to do the video editing for them.” Remote Chamber Ensemble projects were spearheaded by students. Heshie Liebowitz ’22 led his own group in a Schubert trio that went on to win third prize for Music of the Centuries in the Great Composers competition. The combined piano, violin, and cello was assembled part by part until synthesized into a final video. “For the other chamber performances,” says Mr. Opdycke, “Howard Frazin, who leads our chamber music program, produced digital rehearsal tracks. Recordings were sent to me, and one-by-one I’d combine recordings and send them off to the next instrumentalist. Once they were all set, Cameron Estrada ’20 mixed the recordings into video.” Despite the success of this impromptu season of virtual performances—and the creativity and skill-building it has engendered—it is still no substitute for the real thing, says Mr.

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Recognizing Art Form Within Art Forms A new approach for RL's youngest learners by Meredith Reynolds When you’re feeling sad or out of sorts, do you listen to a favorite song? Go for a walk? Dance in your living room? Pull out a sketch pad and a pencil? Arts Department Chair Brian Buckley goes to a museum. “I instantly feel better,” he says. “I absolutely float in the air when I walk into a museum.” It seems though, Mr. Buckley laments, that fewer and fewer people know how to approach and access art; they pay money to go to a museum and they don’t get anything out of it. He asserts that it’s more important than ever to cultivate educated, well-rounded artists and art lovers. To that end, and with a fresh approach, the arts and technology faculty at Roxbury Latin collaborated in the summer of 2019 to redesign the arts curriculum for boys in Class VI through Class IV. The resulting integrated arts curriculum spans three years, beginning in seventh grade, and is made up of nine parts. Each year covers three forms of art-making: one visual, one applied, and one performing. RL’s Sixies examine sculpture, digital design, and dance. The following year, as Fifthies, they are introduced to painting, woodworking, and drama. Finally, in ninth grade, students take on drawing, architecture, and music. This redesigned course series is just entering its second year in 2020-2021.

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The aim of the course, explains Mr. Buckley, is to teach a number of art forms while emphasizing the ubiquitous vocabulary of form. “We want to instill in our boys a solid knowledge of how to understand, analyze, and enjoy all art forms, and also realize how closely they’re connected,” he explains. “Elements of form—like line, shape, texture, space—are relayed to audiences differently through different art forms or media.” Line, for example, could be a drawn line on a page, or a single piece of wood in a built object, or a dancer’s outstretched arm. In learning the basic language of art-making, students can begin to apply it to all forms, making connections and recognizing subtle differences. “Ultimately,” Mr. Buckley says, “we will develop well-informed art students who understand how to engage with, appreciate, and support art and art-making.” Last year’s Sixies were the pioneers in this nine-part journey. Mr. Buckley was at the helm of the sculpture section of the course. Sonja Holmberg, a first year Penn Fellow, taught the digital design section. Ms. Holmberg’s experience as a student at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, and as a visual art teacher at Greenwich Academy and Holderness School, has included extensive work with Photoshop and InDesign, particularly in projects and workshops on the creation of graphic novels. As for the dance section, Roxbury Latin enlisted the expertise of Erin McNulty, a Lead Teaching Artist with Boston Ballet’s Education and Community Initiatives, to teach boys the vocabulary of form as expressed through movement. The year-long course was, by all accounts, a great success. “This group of first year boys was so engaged,” Mr. Buckley says. He could tell that learning the elements of form through three separate art practices allowed his students to internalize the vocabulary and reach a deeper understanding of each art form. Two culminating projects in the course—one in winter and one in spring—showcased student work and brought the three sections together on one common theme. The first project centered around dance. Mr. Buckley’s section created wire sculptures of various dancers’ poses. Ms. Holmberg’s group found images of dancers and

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digitally reworked the textures and colors to create their own pieces. Ms. McNulty choreographed a dance for her section. The resulting showcase was such a success, says Ms. Holmberg, that they decided to do a second large project in the spring. “I was thinking a lot about social isolation and the effect that reality was having on students during the early months of the pandemic,” she explains. “I proposed a final project of ‘isolation art,’ through which our students could express their feelings about being in isolation through visual language.” The Sixies’ interpretations of this final project’s prompt blew Mr. Buckley away. The digital design section created infographics, flow charts, and abstract images to depict their time in isolation. Ms. McNulty’s section performed a choreographed dance individually in their homes that was then edited together into one video. The sculptors used stuffed animals, empty furniture, and found objects to illustrate their feelings in isolation. “They completely surprised me with what they created,” says Mr. Buckley. Some projects were hopeful and inspirational, others expressed sadness and longing. Ms. Holmberg was also pleased with the final projects: “I really loved giving them an opportunity to express their feelings and frustrations through art, to use it as a visual language and an outlet.” Looking ahead to next year and beyond, Ms. Holmberg would love to incorporate more social justice artmaking into her section’s curriculum, giving students the opportunity to use art as a means of speaking on current issues that are important to them. Mr. Buckley hopes to offer more crossover classes. “We plan to have more opportunities to all get together and talk about the similarities and differences between what we are doing in each section,” he says. He also looks forward to a fabulous culminating experience next year, with field trips to places like the Boston Ballet and the Museum of Fine Arts. As for the rising Fifthies, painting, woodworking, and drama await this coming year. It’s probably safe to say that projects in scene design are in their future… //

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A (Virtual) Celebration of Creative Writing “The celebrated American fiction writer Flannery O’ Connor once wrote, ‘I don’t know what I think until I read what I say,’” began English faculty member Dr. Andrés Wilson on the afternoon of May 8. Each spring since 2014, members of the RL community have come together in late spring to share their poetry, short stories, and other personal expressions as a celebration of the creative writing craft. “Writing is a generative practice that helps us better understand ourselves, our world, and ourselves in the world,” Dr. Wilson continued. “As its name implies, creative writing is a process of bringing something into being through words… Teachers of creative writing emphasize inviolable precepts such as Show don’t tell, Write what you know, and Avoid cliché to safeguard students from poetic exile. I, too, stress these principles, though often I wonder if they imply that one should never tell, never write

what one doesn’t know, never use cliché... If human experience is universal—and therefore, our sentiments of love, loss, or fear as well—then the problem is not expressing these feelings, but the ways in which we express them.” Ten boys shared their work in real time with fellow students and faculty members in May via Zoom—from haiku to creative nonfiction to short film. The creators ranged from Sixies to seniors. “Each work offers an image, a tone, a turn-ofphrase, or a perspective that transcends easy generalization in favor of the unique or the vivid,” concluded Dr. Wilson, before boys shared their art. Included here are three of the works included in this spring’s Creative Arts celebration.

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Divination by JAMES MCCURLEY ’23 It’s strange to be able to divine, to see through time, because the threads of time get all tangled, the ones that were and are and will be and could be and could have been. It’s strange, because every stranger I pass has their life story spilled out. Because with a glance I can tell everything that has happened to them, tear their deepest darkest secret from their soul with a look, and see what could be, a million possible versions of the future that could all happen. I remember every face and future I see. Vividest of all I remember looking up one day at the grocery store, just at checkout, and seeing the cashier, a tall, smiling young man, a freshman at college, and I saw, like double vision a thousand times over, visions of his future, images of futures as a salesman, or a doctor, or a plumber, or the president. And I saw a shadow among those futures, the shadow of death. That day, in a car crash right after leaving work, as he rams into another car on the highway. I wanted to speak out, to shout, to tell him what I saw, to be careful, or drive slower, or avoid the highway all together. But I was silent. I can speak if I wish, but I know that I can’t change anything. If I speak, then the threads get all muddy, and I don’t know what I do, if he’ll believe me. People very rarely do. You’d think that I was mad, too, if I claimed to see the future. All I can do is keep silent and pray. I’m like Cassandra, cursed to see and see and try to tell and never to be believed, until eventually I see everything I know, everything I love wither away, or withering, or about to wither, and I can’t stop it. And I just give up and shut my mouth. Other Wizards like to say I’m lucky, that I’m gifted to be the greatest Diviner in the world. They don’t understand. How could they? They have to try to see, with tea bags and crystal balls and palm readings and elaborate ceremonies. They don’t just walk around, and see the death of everyone they pass a thousand times over, until they just want to curl in a ball and cry because there is nothing they can do, and hide themselves away in a dusty apartment because they can’t bear to see anyone suffer anymore. They don’t read in the newspaper about a tragic car accident taking the life of a young man driving home from his job at the grocery store.

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Three Bird Haiku by K R ISH MUNIAPPAN ’25 Vibrant red feathers Plus a flashy crown and beak Northern Cardinals Light Blue, Black, and White Perched high up above the rest Majestic Blue Jays Diving through the air Wearing only shades of brown Common House Sparrows

Bamboo Mats by ETHAN PHAN ’21 My grandmother says that some birds live in spit. Chim yến, she calls them. Their saliva is also good for you. “It makes you live longer and your skin will become whiter and healthier,” she tells us. My sister and my brother look at each other with hairy eyes, but I think I believe her. I hear the van beep outside so I drink mine quickly, but my brother and my sister have to choke theirs down like cherry cough syrup. “I played with dirt and sticks when I was young,” my mom says before she hugs us goodbye.

The rooster outside wakes me up early and my clothes are cold with sweat. My aunt feels my forehead and says I have a fever and lays me down on my stomach. I see her grab a glass bottle filled with a green liquid like a witch’s potion. At the bottom of the bottle, there is a mystery root bobbing up and down and she opens the bottle and taps my back with it. Each touch is like a fresh kiss, and, after many taps and rubs, I feel better. “Call Mẹ Hạnh to tell her that you are sick,” my aunt says. She hands me her phone and I call my mom. “Hi, Mẹ,” I say into the phone. “You don’t sound so good. What happened,” she asks.

We are visiting the countryside for two weeks to experience farm life. We leave the house and drive for two hours in a big white van with sticky leather seats and foggy windows like watered-down milk. Outside, flip-flop villagers pull their oxen along the dirt road and brown marshes of tall green plants stretch far and wide and blur into the gray sky. When we arrive at the house where we will stay, the sky is dark purple. The living room opens up to the outside and I can see children in the house chasing flies and each other. We get out of the car and stretch and my aunt introduces my sister, my brother, and me to the people in the house. “The Americans,” she calls us, and everyone looks at us with wide eyes and leads us to the bamboo mats on the floor. We all sit cross-legged in a circle in that room with three walls. Women bring out plates of food and put them on the mats and everyone is laughing and eating and moving and sitting. My aunt grabs pieces from every dish and puts them on the porcelain. “Try this,” she says, and soon my bowl is full of stuff I have never seen. It is a lot of food but my sister looks at me and I finish it clean. I then feel tired and my aunt shows me the bedroom.

“I think I have a fever.” “Don’t let them give you any medication,” she says. “Vietnamese medicine is fake and harmful. Just drink lots of boiled water and only eat rice and bananas.” “OK,” I respond and give the phone back to my aunt. “Just rest here,” she says. “I am going to grab some pills that will help you feel better.” And then she leaves the room and closes the door before I can tell her no. I start thinking about what I should do. My aunt has only been nice to me this whole trip, and she wouldn’t give me something that would hurt me. The green liquid helped earlier so she must know what is best for me. I shouldn’t be wasting time in this room; the purpose of the trip is to experience life in the country. That is what my mom said. My aunt walks in with a bottle. “I don’t think I can take those pills,” I tell her. “My mom says Vietnamese medicine isn’t safe for me.” She looks down at me with hairy eyes. “You have become too American.” //

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Eleven Seniors Inducted into Cum Laude Society “This year, given our distinctive challenges, I think it appropriate to consider anew the reality of smart people,” began Headmaster Brennan in virtual Hall on April 23. The morning’s Hall was dedicated to the invocation of eleven Class I boys into the Roxbury Latin chapter of the Cum Laude Society. Smart people, Mr. Brennan continued, “brimming with inventiveness, and dreams, and problem solving abilities are often the people who are effective collaborators, eager to combine their smarts with those of another.” With lively recordings of Gaudeamus Igitur and The Founder’s Song as bookends to the celebration, Mr. Josh Cervas, president of RL’s Cum Laude chapter, provided a history of the organization: “By formally recollecting our origins each year, we also reaffirm our commitment to the Society’s original and abiding motto— three Greek words inspired by the three letters of the old Alpha Delta Tau name: Alpha stands for Areté (Excellence), Delta for Diké (Justice), and Tau for Timé (Honor). These three words, with deep roots in our past and far reaching implications for our future, raise qualities of mind and character which, ideally, each member of the Society will espouse as his own values and strive to instill in others throughout his life.” “Even as we celebrate the achievements of the Cum Laude inductees today we acknowledge that they are smart, and… smart

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people can put their smarts to good use,” Mr. Brennan continued. “Smart people can do for others and for humankind… But smart people can also make wars, and foster genocide, and exacerbate the unjust distribution of wealth. Smart people perhaps are most dangerous, and surely most disappointing, when they fail to utilize their smarts, when they acquiesce in the mediocrity all around them, or fail to call out that which is wrong, that which is evil, that which is destructive. Here, in a place crawling with smart people… I implore you to reflect upon what it is that you have been given, and what it is you will do with those gifts. It is safe to say that these times require smart people who are also good, and who are committed to great causes.” Each spring, the all-school Cum Laude ceremony honors the life of the mind—affirming that at the heart of a good school is scholarly engagement. //

Photos (left to right): Top row: Avi Benjamin Attar, Aidan Starling Cook, John Gerald Harrington, David Harley LaFond, Eric Ma, Liam Phelps O’Connor. Bottom row: Ian Ross Richardson, Michael Alexander Stankovich, Jonathan Francis Weiss, Andrew Zhang, Christopher Grant Zhu.

Prize Day In a typical spring, Prize Day marks the final gathering of all students and faculty, culminating the official school year. We join together in Rousmaniere Hall, as the seniors take their seats up front for the final time, to reflect on a successful year; to honor those students whose academic, athletic, and artistic achievements are worthy of extraordinary praise; and to wish farewell to departing faculty and staff. This spring, the wooden chairs of Rousmaniere remained empty, but the entire school tuned in on the morning of June 3 to celebrate Prize Day virtually. “Our purpose for gathering today is to recognize discernible excellence in all areas of school life—academic and extracurricular,” began Headmaster Brennan in the pre-recorded ceremony. “In singling out certain prize winners, we are intending to affirm the highest standards of schoolboy endeavor. We do this even though we know that others out there may be more deserving of congratulations for they have struggled mightily, come far, taken risks, and been honorable boys. To you goes the faculty’s admiration and congratulations.” //

Ben Crawford

Quinn Donovan

Ethan Phan

Jake Carroll

Class II Book Award Winners Harvard Book Award Ben Crawford

Dartmouth Book Award Brown Book Award Quinn Donovan Ethan Phan

Holy Cross Book Prize Jake Carroll

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Major Class I Prize Winners William Coe Collar Prize Avi Attar Class of 1913 Award Jonathan Weiss Richard A. Berenberg Prize Aidan Cook

Avi Attar

Jonathan Weiss

Aidan Cook

Class I Athletics Prize Winners Scholar Athlete Award Collin Bergstrom Sportsmanship Award Mat Cefail ISL Award Ejiro Egodogbare Best Athletes Charlie Weitzel, Joey Ryan

Collin Bergstrom

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Charlie Weitzel

Joey Ryan

Mat Cefail

Ejiro Egodogbare

Valete Prize Day is also the moment that the students, faculty, and staff recognize those adult members of the community who are leaving us. This spring, we bid farewell to three members of the faculty and staff. The Headmaster offered these tributes:

Visaury Moreta Señorita Moreta came to RL in the fall of 2018 as a member of the school’s second full-fledged Penn Fellows class. Along with Chris Brown, she constituted a hopeful contingent, destined to have a positive impact on our school. A Roslindale native and distinguished Holy Cross grad, Señorita Moreta came to us with sterling recommendations and an impressive education. Thanks to her confidence, talent, style, and maturity, she has fostered a positive classroom spirit, affirming daily that teacher and students are on the same side. Señorita Moreta has artfully and gracefully managed her numerous duties of teaching and coaching alongside the demanding work of a graduate program at Penn. Both Señor Ryan and Señor Solís have served as her mentors at RL; not only has the excellent work of both seasoned teachers rubbed off on her, but they would likely admit that Señorita Moreta taught them as much as they taught her. She is a passionate, committed teacher eager always for her charges to succeed. In her effective work as an assistant fourth basketball coach, and on behalf of RL’s debate program, Señorita Moreta always conveys both a firm and friendly approach. She leaves Roxbury Latin to teach Spanish and coach at St. Mark’s School, where they will doubtless benefit from Señorita Moreta’s talents, kindness, care, energy, and sense of humor.

Visaury Moreta

Mike Lawler ’06 Prior to returning to Roxbury Latin, Mr. Lawler served as an eager English teacher, coach, and college counselor at St. Sebastian’s. “As an RL student he was plenty impressive and a bit of a rascal. In part, that was why many of us liked and admired him,” recalls Headmaster Brennan. Two years ago, Mr. Lawler stepped in to fill the gap in college guidance left by Dr. Sally Stevens’s retirement. He is a terrific teacher—creative, clear, deft; he does not merely mimic the teaching that he

Mike Lawler

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received but takes it to different places and utilizes different techniques. His interest in the art and science of teaching meant a natural fit as RL’s assistant director of the Penn Fellows Program. In that role, he has not only shepherded well RL’s talented Fellows, but also collaborated with directors from among the other ten schools in the consortium and advanced RL’s thinking about professional development generally. In the fall, Mr. Lawler served as a knowledgeable, inspiring assistant coach of the varsity football team. In the spring, he taught the school’s youngest athletes how to play lacrosse on behalf of the junior team. He has been a wise, conscientious conduit for his counselees, serving in his role on the college guidance team. Even as he skillfully made the transitions for boys to leave the school, so, too, did he do the same in his admission work for boys to come to RL. Mr. Lawler represents the promise of a great schoolman—multi-talented, energetic, innovative. He is leaving for Westminster School in Connecticut, a place that spawned the student Josh Cervas and the teacher Arturo Solís. Mr. Lawler will enter the English department as Mr. Cervas’s father, Michael, its longtime chair, retires.

Josh Wildes Mr. Wildes came to Roxbury Latin eight years ago, with a few good years as teacher-coach under his belt at Salisbury School, a boys’ boarding school in Connecticut. During his time at RL, Mr. Wildes has had a wonderful impact on the students in his math classes, his advisees, and, especially, the

athletes whom he has coached. His students will vouch for the fact that his easy going style takes much of the stress out of learning difficult math concepts. They, nonetheless, end up learning a lot and remain enthusiastic about the discipline. Mr. Wildes’s wrestlers will speak glowingly of his effective, supportive approach to their achievement on the mat. An impressive high school and collegiate wrestler himself, Mr. Wildes seems to know just the right mix of technique and psychology to employ. He gets the most out of his athletes and they feel happy to work hard, because they correctly sense that Mr. Wildes believes in them. During his eight years at the helm of the program, his teams have amassed a remarkable 132-32-1 dual record (an impressive .800!); in his eight seasons his teams have earned four runner-up distinctions in the Graves-Kelsey League Championship Tournament. In 2017, Mr. Wildes was named Massachusetts State Prep Coach of the Year. “The first year that Mr. Wildes was hired,” Headmaster Brennan recalls, “I had planned for him to assist for one year Mr. Steve Ward, a legendary coach who had presided over RL wrestling for 40 years. That, however, was not to be, because immediately sensing his young successor’s winning style and approach, Mr. Ward gladly ceded the head coaching spot to him, and the great Steve Ward served as Josh Wildes’s assistant.” Mr. Wildes will return to his own Alma Mater, Pomfret Academy. There he will be closer to his family, teach math, coach wrestling, and lead a dorm. //

Josh Wildes

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Retiring Trustees Pam Everhart Pam Everhart has been an active and important member of the board since 2014. She has dedicated her time and talent to the Development Committee, the Strategic Planning Committee, and the 375th Anniversary Committee. Mother of Hamilton, a graduate of the Class of 2017, she and her husband, Karl, have been leadership donors to the Annual Fund and have been supporters of the athletic facility upgrades and the Dennis Kanin Scholarship Fund. We are grateful to Pam for her love of the school and unwavering dedication of her time and talents.

Ian O’Keeffe Ian O’Keeffe has been a member of the Board of Trustees since 2014. A member of the great Class of 1986, Ian has been a critical member of the Investment Committee, and of the Development Committee, Athletic Facilities Committee, and Campus Planning and Operations Committee. Ian has long been a member of the Alumni Leadership Giving Committee and part of the Headmaster’s Council. He has been a long-time leadership donor to the Annual Fund and established, with his wife, the Ian and Katherine O’Keeffe Scholarship Fund. Ian also was a supporter of the Dennis Kanin Scholarship Fund. Ian’s family has deep connections to Roxbury Latin, and his father, Bill, a member of the Class of 1957, served as Trustee of the school for 30 years. Schoolhouse Field has been renamed in honor of Bill and the entire O’Keeffe family. We are grateful for Ian’s investment insights, and his unwavering dedication to the school.

Jo Tango Jo Tango has been a member of the Board since 2014. He has served as a perceptive member of the Finance Committee, and formerly served as Co-Chair of the Development Committee. When their son Jake—a graduate of the Class of 2016—was a student, Jo and his wife, Elizabeth, were chairs of the Parent Fund. A reliable leadership donor to the Annual Fund, Jo established the Tango Family Unrestricted Fund and was a supporter of both the Sally Stevens Economics Fund and the Dennis Kanin Scholarship Fund. We will miss Jo’s financial acumen, and his kind sense of humor.

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Left to right: Avi Benjamin Attar, Ian Luka Balaguera, Joseph Michael Barrett, Collin Robert Bergstrom, David Roman Brennan, Matthew Joseph Callewaert, Mathew Michael Cefail, Jr., Nicholas Anthony Chehwan, John William Cloherty, Edward Francis Conley, Aidan Starling Cook, Reid Fischer Corless, Jhonaiquer Juan Cruz, Dante Donato Cuzzi, John Joseph De Marco, Luke Jerome Donovan, Ejiroghene Osaseniga Egodogbare, Cameron Tabesh Estrada, Lukas Towns Franken, Samuel Eliot Ginsberg, Sebastián Graber-Adamsons, John Gerald Harrington, Richard Impert, Jr., Rijs Elliot Johansongordet, Michael Kenneth Jones, Evan Kisselev, David Harley LaFond, Christian Roger Landry, Peter Francis Levangie III, Eric Ma, Austin Stanley Manning, Kameron Alexander Miller

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Class of 2020 Matriculation Amherst College (1) Assumption College (1) Babson College (3) Boston College (3) Boston University (2) Bowdoin College (1) Brandeis University (1) Brown University (3) Colby College (2) College of the Holy Cross (1) Cornell University (1) Georgetown University (1) Hamilton College (1) Harvard College (8) Middlebury College (1) Northwestern University (2) Phillips Exeter Academy (1) Princeton University (1) Providence College (1) Roger Williams University (1) Syracuse University (1) Tufts University (3) Union College (1) University of Arizona (1) University of Chicago (1) University of Massachusetts, Amherst (1) University of North Carolina, Wilmington (1) University of Notre Dame (1) University of Rochester (1) Wesleyan University (1) Yale University (4) As of July 6, 2020

Hari Narayanan, Liam Phelps O’Connor, Ian Ross Richardson, Jack Philip Ringel, Javier Luis Rios, Antonio Luis Rosado, Jeremiah O’Sullivan Rose, Joseph Patrick Ryan, Jacob Richard Sheer, Timothy Paul Smith, Michael Alexander Stankovich, Kevin Joseph DeBarros Swan, Matthew Joseph Traietti, Peter Shay Turo, Nathanael Eke Kalu Ukoha, Jonathan Francis Weiss, Charles Rutledge Weitzel, Andrew Zhang, Blair Zhou, Christopher Grant Zhu

National Merit The Class of 2020 included 18 students earning letters of commendation from the National Merit Scholarship Program, and seven semifinalists who went on to be named finalists—for a total of 48 percent of the class earning some level of program recognition. Four of those students were chosen as winners of National Merit Scholarships (see page four).

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Honoring the Class of 2020

With typical year-end events, traditions, and culminating celebrations canceled for students around the world, Roxbury Latin—like all schools—had to be creative about the ways in which we celebrated our graduating Class of 2020. Closing Exercises typically take place with seniors and their families, faculty members, and trustees shoulder-to-shoulder in Rousmaniere Hall. On the morning of June 6, the 375th Closing Exercises of The Roxbury Latin School took place virtually—in a manner that was lacking hugs and handshakes, but not tradition, inspiration, and a robust honoring of what our 52 graduating seniors have accomplished in their years at RL.

On Sunday, June 7, seniors and their families were invited to come to campus at designated times throughout the afternoon to receive their diplomas from Headmaster Brennan, as well as to receive some gifts from the school, and to have photographs taken on the Senior Grass.

This year’s Closing Exercises included readings from Class I President Collin Bergstrom and Assistant Headmaster Mike Pojman. The event included not only pre-recorded renditions of Jerusalem, Commemoration Hymn, and The Founder’s Song, but also a brilliant and powerful virtual performance of the hymn Lift Ev'ry Voice and Sing by the Glee Club, as well as a quirky and collaborative arrangement of The Founder’s Song played on the piano by graduating senior Jonathan Weiss and Heshie Liebowitz of Class III.

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Headmaster Brennan opened the ceremony by expressing his gratitude that, in the face of great disappointment, this school

community—faculty, students, parents—responded “like a family: we together have borne the brunt of this historic spectre and done what we could to make the best of it. For four weeks these seniors finished out their classes remotely and for four weeks they pursued their senior projects; in half of these instances boys had to conceive of different projects from what they had originally dreamed of. That said, they have missed events and celebrations that ought to have marked their concluding days at school.

<< “I am moved by your collective resilience, by your proportionality, by counting whatever blessings we have, and there are plenty of these. When we send our boys off into the world—even if that means to cozy college campuses—we hope they will be strong, that they will embody values we care most about, that they will be honest and kind and thoughtful and forgiving. Usually we have had to wait to see if our graduates would honor these noble aspirations… Not so for the Class of 2020. Indeed in your good will and understanding and grit and grace and gratitude you have evinced all that we could hope for you.”

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“Much will be expected.” Avi Attar delivers the Valedictory Address

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s we come to the end of our time at Roxbury Latin, it feels only natural to reflect on the last few years. In particular, my mind keeps wandering back to our earliest days at the school. So please, let me briefly take you there. That first day, I was filled with the excitement of meeting new people, learning about my classes, and trying to discern if Blair’s moustache could possibly be real. Beyond this excitement, however, I vividly recall one other feeling: an unsettling amalgam of confusion and fear. As we went class to class and met our teachers, many of them were saying things like “Good morning, gentlemen,” “Welcome to Roxbury Latin, gentlemen,” and even “I hope you’re ready for today’s pop quiz, gentlemen.” I was confused as to why my teachers kept calling us gentlemen, because when I looked at myself and around at my classmates, I saw pimply, scrawny, brace-faced middle schoolers. Consequently, I was afraid for two reasons: first, I was worried about my teachers’ vision; and second, I was pretty sure there was something more to the fact that we kept getting called gentlemen. It would be easy to chalk it up to just another one of RL’s wonderful little quirks, alongside the fact that we go to school in blizzards, call our cafeteria the Refectory, and have an actual teacher named Mr. Quirk. But looking back, I think there was more to it. Gentlemen is a term of respect, and it’s certainly a lofty label to bestow upon seventh graders. Yet, for this very reason, being called gentlemen perfectly captures the central, underlying fact of our time at RL: a deal of sorts, one that each of us struck up with the school the second we set foot on campus. It goes something like this: For three to six years, RL will satisfy your intellectual curiosities, provide eye-opening, passion-stoking opportunities, and offer love and care. Simply put, RL will treat you like a gentleman, and then some. In exchange, however, RL demands something from you. Emblazoned on the far wall of the Refectory for us to look up at every day are the words: “From those to whom much has been given, much will be expected.” Certainly, we ought to celebrate all that RL has given us, but I think we’d be remiss not to examine the second half of the deal: what has been expected from us. In my mind, these expectations

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have been far more influential than anything RL could have handed to us. My classmates and teachers know this well, and to the families of graduates, please take it at my word: our time at RL has been hard. Much, indeed, has been expected from us. Academically, RL’s rigor looked like bottomless piles of Latin flashcards, and the Great Hall packed with Western Civ projects, and the intimidating goop of the sludge lab. Extracurricularly, RL tested us with 12-hour days, where we showed up at 7:30 a.m. for Classics Club, and didn’t leave practice or rehearsal until 7:30 p.m., long after the sun had set and RL’s bells had ceased their dystopian chiming for the day. Athletically, this difficulty manifested in hours of grueling basketball practice, for example, only to discover that Belmont Hill had recently recruited Michael Jordan. And socially, struggles came when just after we made the aforementioned deal upon entry to RL, we each had to take a Tibetan monk’s vow: never to talk to girls again. Between late nights of practices and homework, and early mornings at community service engagements and debate competitions, RL stretched out and sharpened each of us, setting the bar high and asking us to do hard things. For all that RL has given us, we have given ourselves in return, and standing here today, I think it’s safe to say that there was tremendous value in doing those hard things. John F. Kennedy, talking about the space race, eloquently proclaimed that we do things sometimes “not because they are

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easy, but because they are hard.” I think we can all agree that our time at RL has shown us the truth and wisdom of these words. Doing hard things gets you where you want to go, builds character along the way, and makes reaching the destination all the more fulfilling. There’s something truly sweet about knowing you’ve fought hard, struggled valiantly, and done your best. That pride and satisfaction which stems from success, it comes only after hard work. Furthermore, each of us has grand and noble aspirations: visions we wish to see in the world and ways we hope to help others. Whatever those dreams may be, much hard work must go into realizing them, and there’s no substitute for it. Classmates, I know you all to be good people. For this reason, I feel the need to make only one request in this speech: please remember the challenges we faced at RL, and don’t stop taking new ones head on. Though we have given much of ourselves thus far, we still have yet to repay many, many debts. And while after today, RL will stop explicitly asking us to do hard things, we will always have more trials to stare down and conquer, which brings me to the present. As COVID-19 tears through the world, our lives look vastly different than we ever anticipated they would. We, the Class of 2020, spent our senior spring in quarantine. Experiences like many of our senior projects or even this very graduation went virtual, relegated to underwhelming substitutes for the real thing. Worse yet, highly-anticipated events like the Senior Dinner and our final concert disappeared off the calendar altogether.

“Doing hard things gets you where you want to go, builds character along the way, and makes reaching the destination all the more fulfilling. There’s something truly sweet about knowing you’ve fought hard, struggled valiantly, and done your best.” While acknowledging our own and our loved ones’ health right now does go a long way, it doesn’t fully account for the disappointment we’re all feeling. Gratitude can’t eliminate the sour sense that Coronavirus robbed us of senior spring, the culmination of all our hard work. I wish I could summon forth more inspiring words, but frankly, this is hard, and I’m sorry. Luckily, RL has prepared us well for hard things, and we ought to remember that some good will emerge from this. I look forward to a time in the future when the present suffering around us is nothing more than a memory, when the tribulations of today have fostered in each of us resilience that we may rely on tomorrow, and when, at least, this isolation has gone on long enough that literally everyone knows how to bake banana bread. Until then, however, this virus will continue to be a huge deal, but right here, right now, we have years at RL to reflect on and celebrate, and lifetimes filled with joy, success— and yes, more hard things—to look forward to.

In the spirit of that belief, I have one last topic to touch on. Doing hard things is easier and more enjoyable when there are good people around you, so as I near the end of my speech, I’d like to take a moment to recognize the people who have made our time at RL so special. First, to our teachers, to all the adults in this community. You made the hard things we have done possible, and I know I speak for my whole grade in saying that we are beyond grateful for all that you have given us. You’ve been so much more than just educators and administrators: you’ve been our coaches, advisors, and friends. The teachers of this school have shaped us into not only the students, but also the people we are today. One last time, thank you. Second, to our families. As difficult as RL can be for its students, I know it can be similarly challenging for its families. Supporting an RL boy through the ups and downs of being a student is a tall order, and all of our work has hinged on your dedication. Family is the ultimate cheerleading squad, and God knows how badly we need cheerleaders at RL. So once again, thank you. Third—last, but certainly not least—to the Class of 2020. You guys made the hard things fun. It might sound glib, but I couldn’t have asked for a better group of 52 people to go through high school with. The social dynamics of this grade haven’t always been simple or effortless, but truthfully, that’s what makes us such an awesome bunch. It’s no secret that we’re a motley crew: our grade contains an eclectic mix of colorful personalities, impressive talents, and idiosyncratic interests. Embracing these differences, we’ve coalesced into a tight-knit grade, comprised of good friends and close confidants. It’s sad to consider, but a year from now we’ll be scattered about, at colleges across the country, or in living rooms across the Greater Boston area. Either way, from here on out, our paths will start diverging. One day, these memories will fade and those red-brick buildings that have been our lives for the last years will be nothing more than specks in our rearview mirrors. Even so, I have full faith that the bonds we’ve forged in the fiercely-burning, yet oh-so warm flames of Roxbury Latin will live on. Classmates, out of all the hard things we’ve done, saying goodbye to this chapter of our lives together is the hardest by far. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. Thank you for everything. //

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“As we are now, you will be.” Board of Trustees President Bob O’Connor ’85 delivers the 2020 CommencementAddress

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n a sunny August day in 1994, I made my way to the crypt of the Capuchin monks in Rome. I was traveling with my friend, Elias. We had just graduated from law school and we were traveling in Europe. We discovered pretty quickly that we were not ideally matched traveling companions. This was my first time outside of the United States, and I wanted to see everything in the guide books. Elias had traveled frequently and had been to many places in Europe. He wanted to sit in cafes, stroll the boulevards, and soak up the atmosphere. But we were great friends, and so we had no problem separating in the morning, and then getting back together in the evening. In Rome, I had raced to many of the churches and historic sites that I had learned about in my Western Civilization class with Mr. Jarvis. I loved seeing in person the art and architecture that we had read about. As Elias and I prepared to leave Rome, I searched my guide book to be sure I had not missed anything. I read about the Capuchin crypt. I was shocked; I was intrigued; and I decided to go. On that final sunny day, I entered the crypt. It consisted of a series of very small chapels decorated with the bones of generations of deceased friars. On one wall, an inscription read: As you are now, we once were. As we are now, you will be. As I looked around the crypt, I felt a little strange. I was not shocked or afraid; it was a peaceful place. But I felt a little anxiety about my own limited time on Earth. When I was at Roxbury Latin, Mr. Jarvis spoke frequently, from this lectern, of the impermanence of our earthly life—that not one of us can count the number of his days; that we should each examine our life, confront deep questions; and live a meaningful life. These ideas came to me in a powerful way on that day. And I had another powerful feeling in that moment. A feeling of sudden connection with a specific future and past. A feeling of time travel. Not the time travel of science fiction books, but a feeling of connection between two moments in time—of simultaneous, overlapping experiences. In that moment, I felt immediately connected with a person who, a hundred years before, pondered deep questions about his human life, and spoke directly to me, standing in the crypt in 1994,

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with my guidebook in hand: “As you are now, we once were.” A philosopher, in the fullness of life, speaking not just to a general future, but specifically to me. And in that moment, I took his words as a warning—“As we are now, you will be.” My time on Earth is limited. I should use my time wisely. I have that “time travel” feeling now, speaking to you, here, from Rousmaniere Hall. On a sunny morning in June 1985, I sat in one of these seats in the front of the Hall, listening to the speakers at graduation. I can remember distinctly how I felt. A little bored. A little relieved at having finally made it through RL with its relentless demands. A little anxious at the prospect of leaving a place I felt I had finally figured out. A little sad at the thought I may never again have the same close relationships with my RL friends. A little excited at the prospect of getting away from my family, whom I loved but who drove me crazy. I wondered what the future would hold for me. Would I do all right in college? Would I make close friends? Would I figure out what I wanted to do with my life? What crises would I face, and how would I deal with them? I thought I would spend a few minutes giving you a report from the future. I suppose I am really taking this opportunity to report back to my 18-year-old self. I’d also like to give you a report from the past. My grandfather graduated from The Roxbury Latin School. He also sat through commencement day speakers, on a day in June 1913, at the old school on Kearsarge Avenue in Roxbury. My grandfather’s name was Jack Rooney. He grew up in Jamaica Plain. His father, William Rooney, owned a shoe store on Centre Street in Jamaica Plain. William Rooney Boots & Shoes, which he opened in 1878. My grandfather entered Class VI in 1908. Mr. Heaton found a brief autobiographical essay my grandfather wrote when he was in Class IV. In this essay, my grandfather wrote that he barely passed algebra, and got through Latin “by the skin of [his] teeth.” He concluded his Class IV autobiography by writing, “I don’t know what I will be when a man, but think I would like to teach English and History.” I also found Roxbury Latin to be a struggle. The volume of work was overwhelming and, in the early years, my attention wandered. Mr. Jarvis was my advisor for most of my time at

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“On that Roxbury Latin graduation day in the spring of 1985, my family, friends, and teachers spoke excitedly about my promising future, and the exciting adventure that awaited me in college, and in the fall of 1985, I felt out of place and anxious about the future.” RL, and I went to great lengths to avoid him. He frequently caught me hurrying by his open office door. He would urge me to try harder, demand more of myself. Here is an excerpt from one of his mid-year advisor letters to my parents: “[Bobby’s] paper [in French] was a disaster: poorly organized, excessive examples, good ideas lost in the muck of bad grammar.” He went on to write, “… I would not call his teacher comments glitteringly positive. I hope Bobby will ‘go all out’ this spring to end on the best possible note.” My grandfather and I each struggled at The Roxbury Latin School, but we each persisted, and we each graduated—he in June 1913 and me in June 1985. My grandfather went on to Harvard where he studied chemistry. Then, World War I broke out and he enlisted in the army in 1917. He was just a little

older than you are now. He had never left home, except to go to school across the river in Cambridge. And before finishing his degree, he found himself in military service in one of the most devastating wars we have known. From basic training, here is what he wrote on March 15, 1917, from Camp Dix in New Jersey: “Dear Pa, Suppose everything is the same at home, but, believe me it seems to me as though I’ve been away for a month. Off and on I begin to think how good it would seem to be walking up Burroughs Street again, and then I remember that I’ve only been away a few days and think how silly I am. Everything is so new and for the time so strange. I suppose that it brings a feeling of lonesomeness and fondness for the old life to which I have been so accustomed.” I vividly remember driving with my parents to Wesleyan University in August 1985, the car packed with my stuff; saying goodbye to them. I remember the first weeks of school—meeting new people, eating new food, taking classes at far-flung locations across campus, some with hundreds of students. Who were these people who seemed so different from me? Who seemed only to want to party, or to outdo one another? No professor knew me, or seemed to care to know me. What was I doing here? Had I picked the wrong school? What did I want to do with my life? It may seem strange to compare myself, entering college, to my grandfather, entering military service in World War I. Of course, they are not really comparable. And yet, I felt that loneliness, home sickness, and out of place feeling my grandfather expressed. I also felt that I was entering a world on the verge of chaos. In the late 1980s, I did not think we were in imminent risk of entering a traditional war, but I was anxious about the proliferation of nuclear weapons and their destructive power. The Chernobyl nuclear disaster happened the spring of my freshman year, in 1986. One of the largest, sudden stock market crashes occurred six months later on “Black Monday.” The world felt on edge, as students protested en masse, demanding the University divest its interests in companies that profited from the racist apartheid regime in South Africa. On that Roxbury Latin graduation day in the spring of 1985, my family, friends, and teachers spoke excitedly about my promising future, and the exciting adventure that awaited

me in college, and in the fall of 1985, I felt out of place and anxious about the future. So, what happened? What happened to Jack Rooney and to me after our RL graduations? Well, my grandfather finished basic training, was sent to France and served in the Medical Corps. The Armistice was signed near the end of 1918, and he received his honorable discharge in May 1919. He returned home and began his career as a research chemist in the shoe industry. He developed a process to manufacture a single sole for men’s boots, married Dora Clexton, started the Travelite Rubber Company, won lucrative military contracts during World War II, bought a mansion on Eliot Street in Jamaica Plain, had four children—Clexton (RL Class of 1947), John, Theodora (my mother, “Pippy”), and Barbara who was born with serious intellectual and physical disabilities. He lived the life of a wellto-do Boston businessman, and hosted parties at his house attended by the likes of Mayor James Michael Curley. And then, technology for manufacturing boots and shoes changed, he lost contracts, and was forced to close his business. He sold his mansion and moved to a modest three-bedroom home on LaGrange Street here in West Roxbury, and worried about what would happen to his disabled daughter, my Aunt Barbara, after he was gone. He died in 1974, and left enough money to provide modestly for my Aunt’s needs for the rest of her life. He had lived through multiple world wars, a pandemic, the Great Depression, social unrest; he had a devoted wife, vibrant family, a wide circle of friends; and he closed a failing business, sold his beloved home, lost fair-weather friends, and always worried about the future of his disabled daughter. My grandfather was a survivor. There were good times and there were difficult times. He persisted. I remember him, toward the end of his life, as a smiling, kind, and jovial old man. And what about me? What happened after that graduation day in June 1985? Well, as with my grandfather, there have been good times and there have been difficult times. There are too many stories to tell here, but I did make great, lifelong friends in college, where I felt liberated academically, free to study a wide variety of subjects that captured my interest. And I struggled to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I worked for two years after college and then went to law school, still trying to keep my options open. It was an unsettled time.

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And then, in law school, the most unexpected, and the most fortuitous thing happened: I met and fell in love with Kathleen Phelps. We graduated in a financial downturn, moved to Boston, got law firm jobs, got married in her hometown of Waterloo, Iowa, and worked relentless hours, nights and weekends. And in December 2001, and then in September 2003, I experienced the most profound moments of my life—the birth of our children, Liam and Brigid. I found that it is true what others had said: the love you have for your children is powerful and particular. You know your parents love you, but you do not really know the depth and intensity of it until you become a parent. I sometimes look into the faces of my children now—really, they are young adults—and can simultaneously see their infant faces. Another “time travel” experience. In the spring of 2002, I became a partner at my law firm; Kathleen and I enjoyed parenthood; and we had a vibrant life with family and friends. Things were good. But then, six months later, in the fall of 2002, my law firm closed its doors after 106 years. I was panicked. I was a new partner, with no clients of my own, and with a young family. And shortly after this time, my father struggled with heart disease, diabetes, and a host of other challenges requiring frequent emergency hospitalizations, and my mother slowly descended into the confusion of Alzheimer’s disease. In one moment, I found myself talking with my father in the emergency room about his final wishes. In another, I held my

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mother’s hand as she fought the pneumonia that ultimately took her life. I felt barely able to keep my head above water, struggling to meet the pressing demands of my profession, children, and sick parents. Through it all, I was supported by family and friends in ways I never could have anticipated. Many of those friends were my Roxbury Latin classmates. The young men who sat next to me on that sunny morning in June 1985. And so, here we are now at graduation at The Roxbury Latin School in June 2020. We are in the middle of a global pandemic, unable to be with each other physically. We are seeing in our country a widespread outpouring of pain and anger over persistent, racial injustice. These seem to be unprecedented times. The world feels chaotic and unpredictable; violent and unjust. What would I say to my 18-year-old self, sitting at graduation? And what do I want to say to you? Do not be afraid. We all live through good times and difficult times, and we are all the descendants of survivors. My grandfather persisted and found opportunity in chaotic times. Before him, his ancestors fled famine in Ireland and struggled to create a life in America. You may know stories of how your own family survived war, natural disaster, oppression, or persecution. And there are so many stories of survival and persistence, stretching back through our family histories, back deep in time, that we do not know. Every generation faces uncertainty, moments of chaos, and crises. We survive. We

“Every generation of Roxbury Latin graduates, for 375 years, has stood where you now stand, with excitement and anxiety about the future. Every generation of Roxbury Latin graduates, for 375 years, has faced the prospect of an uncertain, chaotic world. They persevered. They fought for their country, or made scientific discoveries, or started businesses, or fought for justice, or taught students, or served the public, or started families. They lived their lives.”

persist. We take strength from our friends and families. We celebrate life. The birth of our children, their first steps, their birthdays, their athletic, artistic, and academic achievements. Their graduation from high school, and their transition to adulthood. To independence. Every generation of Roxbury Latin graduates, for 375 years, has stood where you now stand, with excitement and anxiety about the future. Every generation of Roxbury Latin graduates, for 375 years, has faced the prospect of an uncertain, chaotic world. They persevered. They fought for their country, or made scientific discoveries, or started businesses, or fought for justice, or taught students, or served the public, or started families. They lived their lives. They survived, and they passed on their love and knowledge to the next generation. When I stood in the Capuchin Crypt in Rome in 1994, I read those words, “As you are now, we once were; as we are now, you will be.” I thought then about the finitude of life and its preciousness. Now, many years later, I remember those words and think about the great continuity of generations of our human family. The monk who wrote those words did not merely meditate upon them alone in his cell. He wrote them for me to read, generations later. I see this as a loving act. One that celebrates life. We don’t talk about the school motto so much any more. It remains, Mortui Vivos Docent—“the dead teach the living.” This is the loving act to which The Roxbury Latin School has dedicated itself. We believe in you, the next generation. It is the great undertaking of our lives to pass on our knowledge, wisdom, and experiences—and our love—to you. I can think of no one better suited to survive, to find opportunities, and to cause change in this uncertain time than you, the graduates of Roxbury Latin’s Class of 2020. You have struggled, you have learned to work hard, to persist, to be flexible and creative, to thrive in a diverse community. You have the love and support of your family and your community. We have passed to you, as best as we have been able, our knowledge, our experience, and our love. You will have them forever. We have confidence that you too will survive, persist, and thrive, and that you will pass on your knowledge, your experiences, and your love to the next generation, and that they will do the same for the next, and then they for the next, down through time. //

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Ifeanyi Anidi '02 is a third-year pulmonary critical care clinical fellow at the National Institutes of Health.

Frontline Reflections

Ten Roxbury Latin alumni, from a number of

professional sectors, share their personal thoughts and perspectives about the COVID-19 pandemic and how it shaped or shifted their work this spring. 44

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Ben Casselman 99

The first week of March was a typical one for me at The New York Times. I conducted interviews for a story about the housing market, and began planning a reporting trip in North Carolina. I met with a colleague who had come up from Washington to plot out a series about the middle class, and gave a presentation about data journalism to a group of Norwegian journalists who had stopped in New York on their way to a conference in New Orleans. And I published a story: “Will the Coronavirus Cause a Recession?” I haven’t had a “typical week” since. Mid-way through the following week, The Times ordered virtually all its employees to begin working from home. I haven’t set foot in the office since, and probably won’t until next year. Reporting trips, conferences, in-person classes and meetings are all on indefinite hold. And the recession transitioned, almost overnight, from mere possibility to grave reality. I am a national economics reporter for The Times. That means it is my job to explain the causes and consequences of what is now officially the worst recession since the Great Depression. But how do I understand, let alone explain, the implications of a global crisis at a time when I rarely travel more than a few blocks from my Brooklyn apartment? I have been a journalist for nearly 20 years—longer, if you count my time as an editor at The Tripod, staying late nights laying out pages in Mr. Pojman’s pre-science-building chemistry lab. Like nearly any reporter, I have covered my share of tragedies, big and small: natural disasters and house fires; mass shootings and more mundane homicides; a global recession, and countless individual job losses. This feels different. At a moment when basic public health recommendations have become political battlegrounds and political leaders are challenging the very idea of expertise, journalism—good, impartial, evidence-based journalism—has never felt more necessary. And yet this crisis has interfered with the practice of journalism like none in recent memory.

It is now clear that the pandemic has instead widened the existing cracks in our society. Both the sickness itself and the economic devastation that it has wrought have disproportionately harmed the Black and brown, the poor and the undocumented. Reporting accurately on this crisis requires highlighting the voices of the people most affected by it. N e w s l e t t e r o f Th e R o x b u r y L at i n S c h o o l

Look back at that week in early March. Virtually all of the activities that are a day-to-day part of newsroom life— in-person interviews, travel to conferences, brainstorming sessions with colleagues—have been disrupted. Even data, the lifeblood of economics journalism, is struggling to keep pace with a crisis that changes week by week and day by day. More fundamentally, the virus has interfered with the rule that every reporter learns and re-learns countless times in a career: “Go there.” In the aftermath of the last recession, as a reporter for The Wall Street Journal, I traveled to the South Side of Chicago to understand the ravages of long-term joblessness; to Cincinnati to document the shrinking of the middle class; to Texas, to trace the ripple effects of a single layoff through a community. Meeting people in person, seeing their homes, walking their neighborhoods, listening to their words and their silences, revealed nuances that no Zoom call ever could. My instincts as a reporter tell me to do the same today. I want to visit the meatpacking plant where immigrant workers showed up sick lest they lose their jobs. I want to meet the mother trying to figure out how she will feed her children if her unemployment benefits run out before she can find work. I want to sit with the small business owner deciding whether he can afford to reopen the diner his grandfather started when he moved to this country 50 years ago. But, of course, I cannot. Even in normal times, it is easy as a reporter to fall into a habit of calling the same experts from the same think tanks, most of them with the same resumes, the same alma maters, and the same worldviews. A couple years back, I began tracking the race and gender of the people I quoted in my stories. I found that my sources were disproportionately white men, all the more so on stories for which I never left my desk. That kind of myopia is particularly costly now. Early on, there was a narrative that the virus was a “great equalizer,” affecting Oscar-winning actors and anonymous service workers alike. It is now clear that the pandemic has instead widened the existing cracks in our society. Both the sickness itself and the economic devastation that it has wrought have disproportionately harmed the Black and brown, the poor and the undocumented.

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Reporting accurately on this crisis requires highlighting the voices of the people most affected by it. It also requires the grounding of history. Perhaps there is no perfect parallel for our present moment, but there are precedents, and lessons we can learn from them. The flu pandemic of 1918 sparked an anti-mask backlash with eerie echoes in our own time. The economic policy errors of the Great Depression helped turn a financial panic into a decade of misery. America’s shameful history of redlining, segregation, and discrimination laid the groundwork for the deep racial inequities that have been both revealed and exacerbated by our present crisis. Understanding that history can inform my reporting, even if I rarely invoke it directly in my stories. One of the fundamental missions of good journalism is to help readers see the world from a different perspective. At a time when this virus has made all our worlds so much smaller, that mission is more vital than ever.

Jay Miller 05 When the pandemic started, I had only been a doctor for a few years, and a fully trained one for only a few months. Early this year, when we first learned of the novel Coronavirus, I was partway through a Global Medicine fellowship at MGH. During this fellowship, I worked part-time at Boston Healthcare for the Homeless. Early on, we struggled with the lack of testing kits, as did all local public health agencies and hospitals around the country. When even limited testing became available, we realized we were far behind the epidemic in the homeless population. In early April, in one large shelter in Boston, 36 percent of residents tested positive for the virus. Many of these patients had mild symptoms, or no symptoms at all. But because they did not have a home in which to isolate themselves, all of them needed somewhere else to stay until they were no longer at risk of infecting others. And those who were sick, but not so sick as to require hospitalization, also needed somewhere to recuperate and receive clinical care. Our organization helped to set up a number of different care sites for COVID patients experiencing homelessness, including the Boston Hope site at the Boston Convention and Exhibition Center. At these sites, our clinical team would see

I hope that by the end of my career, it will seem unthinkable that so many of our fellow citizens once lacked access to healthcare or were homeless. And I hope that in the epidemics to come in my career, we will better protect the most vulnerable among us. patients daily to monitor them in case they got sicker, treat any symptoms of COVID, and treat other conditions including alcohol withdrawal and opioid withdrawal. I am proud of the care that we provided, proud of my colleagues who put themselves and their families at risk by caring for COVID patients, and proud to play a small role in the fight against the pandemic. But that pride is tempered by a broader sense of failure. Such care sites were necessary given the circumstances, but that necessity stems from a failure

as a society to protect the most vulnerable among us. Only emptying the shelters and providing individual housing would have truly prevented such widespread infection among people experiencing homelessness in Boston. Yet hotels stood empty as the virus spread through homeless shelters. For centuries, the burden of infectious disease has rarely, if ever, been borne equally across society. But the current pandemic has laid bare the myriad social ills and pervasive injustice that plague our society, placing already vulnerable groups at such high risk and contributing to the deaths of so many—inequitable access to healthcare and adequate housing, underinvestment in public health, essential workers who lack employment protections, enduring racism, and an appalling lack of compassion for others manifested by those who refuse to wear masks in grocery stores or take other basic steps to protect their fellow citizens. While nothing we gain from this pandemic will balance out what we have lost as a society, I hope I can look back later in my career and see the ways in which we strengthened our society as a result. On an individual level, I hope we emerge as better clinicians, nurses, epidemiologists, case managers, and so on. I hope I can look back and see that we took up as a common cause the needs of our colleagues on the maintenance, food service, and custodial staffs, who have worked alongside us and assumed the same risks for far less pay. I hope that by the end of my career, it will seem unthinkable that so many of our fellow citizens once lacked access to healthcare or were homeless. And I hope that in the epidemics to come in my career, we will better protect the most vulnerable among us. The views expressed here are my own, and do not reflect the views or positions of the Massachusetts General Hospital or Boston Healthcare for the Homeless.

Kosta Deligiannidis 93 I am a family physician who trained and practiced in a smalltown residency program in Massachusetts, where I had the opportunity to take care of multiple generations of families. One cherished aspect of my work was making house calls to patients who simply could not make it to my clinic, as it provided me the opportunity to learn about my patients in

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Although our health system made heroic achievements in providing medical care and testing, I remember the intensity of the fear: the fear of getting the virus, of dying from the virus, of suffering a longterm complication from the virus; the fear of transmitting the virus—of causing the death of a family member, or of transmitting the virus to our patients. 48

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their environment, which helped me help them. I have since moved to metro New York, where I am an attending physician in a home-based primary and palliative care program. Our team consists of primary care providers, nurses, social workers, and community paramedics who deliver care with a team-based, patient-oriented approach. We bring medical care into the homes of frail patients who are homebound (and mostly bedbound), with multiple chronic medical conditions—patients who either go back-and-forth to the emergency department for their care, or would suffer at home in silence. At the end of March, we saw a rising number of patients with COVID-19. As the hospital cases increased, so did our community cases. Our practice commenced daily COVID19 meetings to coordinate treatment planning under the ever-evolving infectious disease guidance from the state. We moved swiftly and continually updated our protocols as the virus hit New York fast and hard. Although our health system made heroic achievements in providing medical care and testing, I remember the intensity of the fear: the fear of getting the virus, of dying from the virus, of suffering a longterm complication from the virus; the fear of transmitting the virus—of causing the death of a family member, or of transmitting the virus to our patients. Our patients and family members also were afraid; for those who had caregivers who often took public transportation, what is the likelihood that they would pass it to the patient? However, during this time of fear, I could only do what I was called to do in my job: take care of my patients and take care of my team. I was aware of the danger we all were in, and due to the nature of our work, we all are aware of how fragile life is. Despite the immense challenges, we persevered each day as we did our best to take care of our elderly patients, those at highest risk for mortality due to COVID-19, and supported each other as some of our patients ultimately succumbed to COVID-19. I pray, I do what I can, and I count my blessings. I am blessed to have a family who understands my work and supports me. I am blessed that I have a team who has pulled together and been flexible in the face of frequent process changes and a flood of information. I am blessed to have caring and hard-working people around me. Lastly, I am hopeful—hopeful that more people will take simple

Joel Solomon ’82 Leads Pandemic Psychiatric Services on USNS Comfort Reprinted with permission from McLean Hospital; Article originally published May 3, 2020 On March 30, Dr. Joel Solomon and his 1,200 crewmates on the USNS Comfort docked in New York Harbor. The Comfort, a U.S. Navy hospital, came to New York City to provide urgent care and support to the tens of thousands in the region affected by the coronavirus pandemic. Solomon, the medical director at McLean Hospital’s Community Reintegration Unit and a member of the Navy Reserves for seven years, said he was answering a call for help by joining the Comfort’s crew. “With the pandemic, there was an outreach to the military to see who could be helpful and supportive,” he explained. Eager to bring his psychiatric expertise to the effort, Solomon worked with McLean’s Chief Medical Officer

Dr. Joseph Gold, and Dr. Scott Rauch, McLean’s president and psychiatrist-in-chief, to clear his way to serve. “They made sure my work at McLean was covered so I was able to support the mission,” Solomon explained. “I was able to serve in large part because of their efforts.” With his McLean responsibilities in order, Solomon packed his seabag and took a flight to Norfolk, Virginia, to board the Comfort. The ship soon set out for New York, where Solomon took on several roles to support the health and safety of both patients and crew. “Working under the Directorate for Medical Services, I was given the responsibility of department head for behavioral health,” Solomon explained. “As the sole

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psychiatric resource for the ship, my role was both to coordinate behavioral health care for 1,200 crew as well as serve in a consultative role for patients treated in the ICU and on the wards. We were a team of psychiatry, psychology, and behavioral health techs available 24/7 to provide support in case of emergencies.” Solomon also served as co-chair of the ethics committee. “I had to address issues, in a consultative way, to leadership, medical providers, and patients,” he said. He also played a more informal role as a liaison between the ship’s command and crew. “Part of my job was to keep people mission-focused and bring issues and questions to leadership,” said Solomon. “I was a connector, a bridge for crew concerns.” Solomon’s multiple roles kept him busy during his time on the Comfort. “I wasn’t working 24 hours a day, but I was available 7 days a week,” he said. “I did not necessarily get a day off.” A typical day for Solomon started at sunrise. “We had reveille at 0600 and meetings early on,” he stated. “Then, we would go to the wards to see patients and staff. It was an ever-changing mission, and it was tiring.” Solomon provided psychiatric support for patients onboard, but he also assisted crew members with mental health concerns. “We dealt with a wide range of issues, but the majority of the crew-based concerns were adjustment issues,” he explained. “There were many folks who were new to the Navy, and they were facing new challenges.” Chief among those concerns was the chance that they would be dealing directly with patients who had tested positive for COVID-19. “We were originally going to treat people without COVID, but this quickly transitioned, and we became inundated with COVID patients,” Solomon reported. “We had to determine what that would mean for the crew, and we were able to go into the ICU, into the medical wards, and

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help foster conversations and give reassurance.” Solomon reported that “part of the work also involved serving as a resource about suicide prevention and helping in case there was a ‘battle buddy’ who crew members or leaders were worried about.” He said he was able to work with other medical providers in a consultative role to address these issues on the Comfort. From his experience in New York, Solomon gained valuable insights into dealing with psychiatric issues during a pandemic. “There is a lot of stress out there, and the chance that providers will need mental health care is high,” he stated. Health care workers, he said, “understand that they are at risk of actually contracting COVID-19, and some are struggling with the feeling that they were putting others at risk or that they were marginalized” while caring for coronavirus patients. “Those are concerns that have to be addressed,” he said. “We have to make sure we are all comfortable and respectful and accepting.” Going forward, Solomon believes that “the best way to address people’s anticipatory fear is by sticking with the science. Wear appropriate PPE, stay safe, and follow the guidelines.” Also, Solomon recommended “keeping lines of communication open and remembering that social distancing is not the same as isolating. We can still be supportive.” Looking back on his time in New York on the Comfort, Solomon stated, “As we sailed past the Statue of Liberty on arrival, with all the excitement and fanfare, I couldn’t help getting caught up in the spectacle. As we prepare to sail out, I now think more about the poem inscribed there: ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.’ That’s what the mission was truly about. We were treating a lot of folks who didn’t have many resources or advantages, and I am proud we were there to answer the call.” //

preventative measures to reduce the risk of spreading and contracting this novel Coronavirus. I am hopeful that there will be a medical treatment that will reduce the severity and complication risks from COVID-19. I am hopeful that we will persevere with necessary precautions.

Paul Wallace 06 The defining experience of intern year for psychiatry residents at UCSF is the seven months we spend at San Francisco General Hospital: four months on the inpatient psychiatric wards, one month in the psychiatric emergency room, one month in the medical emergency room, and one month on the inpatient medical wards. SFGH is the city’s safety-net hospital and its largest provider of acute psychiatric services. Here we treat the city’s most vulnerable residents: the poor, the undocumented, the unhoused, the severely mentally ill. Here I was when COVID-19 arrived on our shores. Initially it seemed that COVID might hit San Francisco particularly hard, as several early cases appeared in California, and because San Francisco is one of two U.S. cities with direct flights from Wuhan. By the second week of March, UCSF and SFGH were mobilizing emergency response efforts at rapid speed. Fortunately for us in the Bay Area, our political leaders heeded the advice of public health experts and announced shelter-in-place restrictions on March 17, the first such order in the country and a decision that likely saved thousands of lives in this region. Meanwhile we watched as our colleagues in New York, Detroit, Boston, and other hot spots began to experience a tidal wave of illness and death the likes of which had not been seen in the United States in 100 years. The disruptions we have experienced as doctors in San Francisco pale in comparison to those places, even if we occasionally grumbled as we rationed PPE, donned layer after layer to see patients with respiratory complaints, or wiped our foggy glasses over and over again. Public health efforts such as shelter-in-place, mask-wearing, and handwashing are remarkably effective when practiced, but early on it was apparent that their practice would prove to be much more complicated for my patients who are unhoused and suffer from severe mental illness. To further complicate matters, many mental health treatment programs and even

It has taken the willpower of many and the cost of human lives to get us this far, but we have seen progress... As we work to maintain the safety of our most vulnerable residents while COVID continues to rage around the country, we also set our sights on maintaining positive change after COVID someday fades. homeless shelters were shutting their doors to new clients for fear of exposure to the virus, leaving us few options for safely

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discharging our patients from the hospital. “Discharge to the street” is a sad reality for some SFGH patients in the best of times, a byproduct of deep structural failures in our society. With COVID looming, it felt even more dangerous and unacceptable than usual. Alarm bells rang among my co-residents as bodies stacked up around the country: our patients are among the most likely to contract COVID, suffer poor health outcomes, and spread it to others by virtue of living in crowded, unhygienic conditions on the street or in institutional settings such as shelters, residential care facilities, or jails. They are also susceptible to mental health crises from disruption of their usual psychiatric treatment by COVID. We felt it fell on us, the psychiatry residents, to advocate for our patients. We spoke with our patients about their needs and concerns, coordinated with other frontline workers, and began meeting with city and hospital leadership. We discussed solutions and advocated for best practices. We noted that thousands of hotel rooms laid empty in San Francisco as thousands slept exposed on the street, including many of our patients. We discussed distributing cellphones to patients who could no longer visit their psychiatrist or case manager in person. We learned hard lessons on how bureaucracy operates; and yet, despite its bureaucracy, the city and its public health infrastructure proved to be the best way to provide needed services to our patients. It has taken the willpower of many and the cost of human lives to get us this far, but we have seen progress. The city accelerated its housing of the homeless in hotel rooms after a large outbreak in the city’s largest homeless shelter. It reduced its jail population after several massive outbreaks in prisons and jails elsewhere. As we work to maintain the safety of our most vulnerable residents while COVID continues to rage around the country, we also set our sights on maintaining positive change after COVID someday fades. We can permanently house many more people than we previously thought possible. We can dramatically reduce the number of people we incarcerate. We can ensure everyone has access to healthcare services, including mental healthcare, and we can deliver healthcare in innovative ways. COVID has been a tragedy of unimaginable scale, but from its ashes we can and must build a better healthcare system and society.

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Scott Sayare 04 Many people become writers, I suspect, not so much because they wish to interrogate the world as because they already have a conviction about it. They believe they have intuited some profound but underknown truth; they yearn to be the ones to bring it to everyone else’s attention. Most often, you see this sort of naive grandiosity in young people, and I confess I felt this way almost constantly in my first years as a journalist. Time and experience have cured me of most of it—my understanding of the vastness of my ignorance about the world increases, without fail, every day—but not all, and it nearly got the better of me this spring, writing about COVID19. I was in France in mid-March, when the borders began closing and the full, humbling scope of this disease was first becoming clear. I pitched my editor in New York a story about Didier Raoult, an extravagant but nonetheless respected French microbiologist who claimed that SARSCoV-2 could be stopped with hydroxychloroquine. By an odd chain of transmission involving Fox News and a Long Island cryptocurrency enthusiast misrepresenting himself as a scientist, Raoult’s purported cure had reached the imagination of Donald Trump. Trump’s endorsement was, understandably, enough to sink any hopes a reasonable layperson might have had for hydroxychloroquine. But Raoult was not meant to be a crank, and I wondered if, despite Trump, he might not be right. I drove down alone from Paris to Marseille, where Raoult runs a major research institute, which he founded, feeling optimistic about hydroxychloroquine and rather pleased with myself for being willing to take it seriously. I spent a week in Marseille, touring Raoult’s laboratories and interviewing his colleagues and subordinates. One afternoon, he and I spoke in his office, beneath photographs of him with every French president since Chirac, and a photo of his father, also a doctor, with De Gaulle. On the wall behind his desk hung a framed copy of a rather ominous Latin phrase. It read, Cavete, consules, quod tarpeia rupes proxima est Capitolio: “Beware, consuls, the Tarpeian Rock is but a short way from the Capitoline.” The Capitoline Hill was the symbolic seat of Roman prestige; the Tarpeian Rock was the cliff at its southern edge from which murderers and traitors were hurled to their death. “This is what they used to tell the Romans,” Raoult

explained. “‘Tread carefully! Today, glory; tomorrow, the fall!’” He was an exceptionally entertaining interview; once I got him going, which didn’t take much, he kept rolling forward on his own intellectual momentum, for about two-and-a-half hours. He was absolutely sure about hydroxychloroquine. So was everyone else at the institute. I left Marseille with the conviction that if the drug didn’t work, it was probably up to the rest of the world to prove it. That seems mad to me now, and disturbing. It took me several days to think myself out of Marseille, out from the seduction of Raoult’s certainty and the vainglorious idea that I might be the one to tell the world that, Trump notwithstanding, he was right. His data were extremely meager. When I listened to the recording of the interview, it struck me that I have probably never encountered a human so unselfconsciously megalomaniacal. At one point, during a digression on the many awards he has received, Raoult noted that he had never been given a Nobel Prize. “It’s just a vote!” he said. “What do I care? It wouldn’t change my life to win one.” I had of course

been present when he said this and many similar things, and yet somehow I had failed to register their absurdity. I’m relieved that I finally did, though also disappointed, and frightened, that it took me so long. It’s my good fortune to work in a corner of journalism where there is enough time to think—time for confusion, reevaluation, and correction, and time to get over yourself, if you can.

Ifeanyi Anidi 02 Once it became apparent that SARS-CoV-2 would be establishing a foothold in the United States, the first major change I noted in my department was the concerted effort to re-evaluate how we provide clinical care to our patients. As a third year pulmonary critical care clinical fellow at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), I had spent the previous two years in extensive training. I spent the first year honing my critical care skills in intensive care units at four different hospitals throughout Washington D.C., Maryland, and Virginia. I spent the following year immersing myself in

He was absolutely sure about hydroxychloroquine. So was everyone else at the institute. I left Marseille with the conviction that if the drug didn’t work, it was probably up to the rest of the world to prove it. N e w s l e t t e r o f Th e R o x b u r y L at i n S c h o o l

I continued to take part in high-risk procedures without much hesitation, as did the rest of my colleagues, because this 'duty to provide care' above all else seems to be baked into our DNA as physicians. pulmonary medicine at Massachusetts General and Beth Israel Deaconess hospitals. When I returned to the NIH in July 2019, I expected to establish a translational research career within the world of tuberculosis immunology while continuing my clinical responsibilities in the ICU and pulmonary clinic. Everything changed this past February as COVID-19 began to spread rapidly across the country. Stationed within the very governmental institution created to advance the manner in which diseases are diagnosed and treated, I couldn’t imagine working in a better space for me, as both a clinician and scientist. As the pandemic took hold in the U.S., protocols were created to optimize the safety of patients and staff, to fine-tune diagnostic measures, and to ensure that the best therapeutic measures were being delivered. Protocols were often updated on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. I joined a nationwide messaging group of pulmonary critical care

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fellows managing COVID-19 patients. We served as a resource for each other, sharing what we were learning about how to manage those severely ill with this disease. I learned how different hospitals around the country were dealing with common issues of severe hypoxemia and unexplained thrombotic events, as well as emergent best practices for preventing transmission to healthcare personnel. I continued to take part in high-risk procedures (e.g., aerosol generating maneuvers such as endotracheal intubation or flexible bronchoscopy) without much hesitation, as did the rest of my colleagues, because this “duty to provide care” above all else seems to be baked into our DNA as physicians. While I cannot trivialize the significant ways in which this pandemic has altered my life, what truly hit me the hardest were the number of seemingly never-ending manifestations of racial violence and systemic racism. As a first-generation Nigerian American, I, like most Nigerians grew up and remain very proud of my homeland and its rich culture. At the same time, I witnessed my parents overcome multiple manifestations of racism in the city of Boston while dealing with the inherent challenges of managing a household of five children in a new country. I saw firsthand that being black in America came with its own extra set of societal hurdles. Despite knowing and living this reality my whole life, viewing one instance after another of black individuals being marginalized and killed has definitely taken a serious toll on me. This reality has caused my Tanzanian fiancée to fear for my safety whenever I go out running. This reality has triggered multiple nights of insomnia that affect my ability to provide optimal care to very sick patients. This reality has made me question whether I want to raise my future children in this country. It has been difficult to contain my anger as I’m reminded of the multiple times patients in clinic have “requested to see another doctor” after just seeing my face. I’m reminded of the time I was evaluating a patient’s pain and she stated that she thought I was there to remove the trash and couldn’t possibly be her doctor. During these times, I have been thankful for the ability to lean on family and friends for support, guidance, and strength.

What has been a somewhat unexpected beacon of light is a gathering of often raucous voices that I had taken for granted until this moment: the RL alumni Class of 2002 group chat. Whether it’s viewing pictures of a classmate protesting racism in Amsterdam, listening to a classmate discuss systemic racism on a golf podcast, or just reading weeks of posts expressing outrage often followed by nuanced conversations amongst minority and white alumni alike, I have felt more hopeful for the future.

alumni network. I sincerely hope we can continue to mine our collective wisdom in order to be in better community with one another and the wider world around us.

Tim O Keeffe 89

As the leader of Symmons Industries, a third-generation plumbing manufacturing business, I am certain that the last 120 days have been the most challenging in our 81-year

My classmates represent a diverse range of occupations, ethnicities, opinions, and lived experiences. For this reason, I hope there will be many more opportunities in the future for the voices in my class, RL ’02, to tell their stories: tales of their experiences of and reckoning with systemic racism, as well as how this pandemic has significantly impacted their lives. I am thankful and proud to be a part of this

We will be stronger mentally from the challenge we are facing. We will be more empathic for our teammates and loved ones. And we will most certainly be more grateful and purposeful than ever before in our lives. N e w s l e t t e r o f Th e R o x b u r y L at i n S c h o o l

history. The COVID-19 crisis began to impact our supply chain in early February and dates for product shipment were delayed. By mid-March it became quite clear that we were about to face a situation with no historical playbook, intense volatility, and the potential to impact the health of every teammate you work with on any given day. On March 31, I opened our virtual Town Hall framing this crisis across three themes: Static vs. Dynamic Views In the weeks ahead there will certainly be no shortage of negative news, from the numbers of infected people to the numbers of those who succumbed to this horrible virus. At the same time, this is not a static situation; humanity is not sitting back and waiting for this to happen. In fact, it is just the opposite: we are fighting to push back and solve this terrible health crisis. Take one key area of focus: testing. Earlier in the week Bosch announced it was developing a test that could produce results in 2.5 hours. Two days later Abbott Labs announced they will launch a test that will deliver results in 15 minutes; that is 10x speed improvement. The human spirit is alive and well, as demonstrated by these two companies and their effort to end the COVID-19 pandemic. Impact vs. Define As we started 2020, none of us could imagine the challenges that would unfold in the first 90 days. Today we are fully engaged in a focused effort to ensure the safety of our teammates while delivering for our customers. While this crisis will impact us, it will not define us. We are defined by all that we do for our family, our teammates, and our community. What will define us at Symmons are the actions we take to support each other and the effort we give each day to get through this crisis together. We must lead with empathy, ask first how a teammate is doing, and then get to business as it will make a difference in each of our lives. Social Distancing vs. Relationships Our efforts to keep a distance (six feet) from each other is an important part of the fight against the virus. We must stay committed to this action. However, while we are six feet apart, or even connecting virtually, I have never felt more connected to each of you and our larger teams. Distance will never

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replace our relationships, our commitment to each other, or the care we show for each other when times are tough. Last week was about preparing Symmons to get through this crisis, and let me be clear: We will get through it. Starting today, let us all press reset and begin living our core values again: “When teamwork is paired with ideas, we create solutions our customers value, which generate opportunities for us all.” Thank you for your continued commitment to Symmons and for being the teammate that inspires me to try harder every day. Current Period: July 2020 Today we are certainly a different company than the one that entered March. Each morning starts with temperature taking, masks are worn all day, social distance is the norm, and the office connection is now fully virtual. The impact of this crisis can also be seen for its positive impact: We will be stronger mentally from the challenge we are facing. We will be more empathic for our teammates and loved ones. And we will most certainly be more grateful and purposeful than ever before in our lives. There is still a long way to go, and the uncertainty will remain until we can end the COVID-19 health crisis. While we have all been through a very dark time, I am humbled by the human spirit, the power of ideas, and the strength we can draw from teammates as we push on for another day. //

Matt Hutter 87

I work at the Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston as a General, GI, Laparoscopic and Bariatric Surgeon and have done so since starting my surgical training 25 years ago. In March, COVID-19 had laid bare Italy’s health system and hospitals were overwhelmed. My brother, Joe Hutter ’81 (aka Alf during his RL years), a radiologist and policymaker for Medicare/Medicaid, was deployed to the Javits Center in New York as it was being inundated by COVID. Boston had to prepare for the worst. Non-emergent surgery stopped at my hospital on March 13, and much of my clinical practice shut down immediately.

My faith in humanity was reinvigorated. Despite the unknowns of this disease and the risk of exposure for providers and their families, all were willing to put the needs of their patients before their own needs. I was very proud to be in healthcare and this reaffirmed my choice of vocation. On that first morning that my operative cases were canceled, I wrote an email to the person in charge at the Partners HealthCare system stating, “Let me know how I can assist you or the institution in any way. I am happy to help however

N e w s l e t t e r o f Th e R o x b u r y L at i n S c h o o l

I can—there is nothing too big or too small. Put me in the game, coach!” After a few weeks of feeling like I was not doing all I could, I received a return call asking if I would help at Boston Hope. I went over there immediately, and I worked for several days straight on whatever fire needed to be doused. Then a new position was created for me: Chief of Clinical Operations. The Boston Hope Hospital is a 1,000-bed “field hospital” that was built on the exhibit hall floor of the Boston Convention Center. Our mission was to decompress the medical centers in eastern Massachusetts during the COVID surge: 500 beds were designated for the hospital, and 500 beds would serve as respite for the homeless. Six beds were ICU-level to stabilize patients. All beds were for COVID positive patients. Construction started on April 1. Nine days later the facility was built, and we accepted our first patient. Two months later, our temporary field hospital “clapped out” our last patient. During that time, we cared for 723 patients. No patients died. Despite being a field hospital on the convention center floor, patients received an excellent level of care and were extremely grateful. Most of the healthcare providers and leadership team felt this was one of the most rewarding experiences of our careers to date. We accomplished more each day at Boston Hope than in a year in our regular hospitals. I learned many things from this experience: There is much good in this world. My faith in humanity was reinvigorated. Despite the unknowns of this disease and the risk of exposure for providers and their families, all were willing to put the needs of their patients before their own needs. I was very proud to be in healthcare and this reaffirmed my choice of vocation. I encourage you to find a mission you believe in. Passion and purpose should be your guiding light as to what you will do throughout your life. Raise your hand, create opportunities, and step out of your comfort zone. I wanted to have a greater impact on the health of our community beyond the patients on which I operate. Having just completed an MBA at the

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MIT Sloan School of Management, I felt prepared for such a challenge and asked for a mission. Learning is a lifelong endeavor. Teams are more effective than individuals. Many hospital incident command systems had converted to closed room discussions, and hierarchical—almost dictatorial— decision-making styles. Boston Hope was most effective because of our flattened hierarchy with a team of leaders who listened and learned, with rapid communication and multidisciplinary involvement. Everyone, especially those on the front lines, was asked to step up and lead. At RL, the lessons learned from working as a team when singing in the Glee Club or the Small Group (now the Latonics), when putting together The Tripod, and of course when competing in athletics, are just as important as the rigorous academics. Highly functional teams will outperform the smartest person in the room any day. John F. Kennedy pointed out that the Chinese word for crisis is made up of two symbols: danger and opportunity. A serious crisis is a great opportunity to promote change. Identify and make the most of a burning platform. It makes people move their feet. Create a motivated team that shares a common goal. Allow them to be leaders. You need to raise your hand and step out of your comfort zone to grow. The last patient of Boston Hope Hospital has been “clapped out.” The facility remains standing and ready, but hopefully will not be needed again. However, the lessons I learned in those two months have been invaluable. //

Paul 11 and Michael Healy 17

As the pandemic ramped up in March, we wanted to help our communities in any way we could. The two of us are not healthcare professionals, so we turned to the tools we had. Over the past few years, we’ve both worked on state and local policy, with a particular focus on racial and economic inequality. Michael previously interned for Boston City Councillor Matt O’Malley and has spent this summer in the public sector group at the consulting firm Alvarez & Marsal. Paul has focused on state and local issues as a law student at Yale and interned last summer in the office of Massachusetts Attorney General Maura Healey.

When Congress passed the CARES Act in response to the nascent recession, we worried that this federal assistance wouldn’t adequately address racial inequalities. We noticed that the CARES Act explicitly prevented business owners with criminal records from accessing Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) loans—and we immediately thought of our friends at InnerCity Weightlifting. This Boston nonprofit equips formerly incarcerated individuals with employable skills as personal trainers. The federal program’s reliance on large banks to distribute loans also seemed likely to harm business owners of color (as evidenced by a long history of discriminatory lending). We decided to write up our thoughts in an opinion article for CommonWealth Magazine titled “COVID-19 Segregating Our Economy” (article available at: https://commonwealthmagazine. org/opinion/covid-19-segregating-our-economy/). We advanced a simple argument. In addition to the racially disparate effect of the virus itself, the growing economic crisis would also disproportionately hit people of color. And given that the federal response would only exacerbate this inequity, state and local leaders would have to step up and fill this gap. We followed up with action. Paul set up a working group of Yale students who provided pro bono research assistance to a range of state and local governments responding to the crisis. For instance, Paul assisted one city in a southern state in designing a COVID-19 emergency fund with a conscious focus on business owners from marginalized communities. Paul also worked with business owners in New Haven, Connecticut, who had questions about whether and how to access federal assistance. Similarly, Michael has been working full-time this summer as a consultant to a state government agency, adapting its government services to a remote environment and plan for future pandemics. Since we wrote our op-ed, the national movement in response to the killing of George Floyd has brought longstanding racial inequities into sharper focus. We continue to be inspired by the leadership and resilience of local governments around the country, as well as the community members who hold them accountable. //

Paul set up a working group of Yale students who provided pro bono research assistance to a range of state and local governments responding to the crisis... Michael has been working fulltime this summer as a consultant to a state government, adapting their government services to a remote environment and plan for future pandemics. N e w s l e t t e r o f Th e R o x b u r y L at i n S c h o o l

What Were Classes Like This Spring? As distance learning turned bedrooms and home offices into classrooms and libraries, RL faculty adapted on the fly—transforming traditional coursework into dynamic virtual curricula.

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March Madness... Supreme Court Style In Stewart Thomsen’s senior elective, AP U.S. Government and Politics, students preparing for the AP exam spent time reviewing key Supreme Court cases, and Mr. Thomsen adapted a review exercise that takes its cue from the NCAA basketball tournament. Beginning with a “Sweet 16” bracket—pitting Tinker vs. Citizens United, Roe vs. Gideon, Brown vs. Bye—each student was tasked with orally summarizing the key facts of a case and the Court’s majority holding before arguing why he believed his particular case is more historically significant than the one it is competing against in that round. Boys delivered their oral arguments to the “Chief Justice” (Mr. Thomsen) for this competition. (And, like any Supreme Court justice, he maintained the right to interrupt at any time—and as often as he liked—to ask questions.) At the end of the argument, Chief Justice Thomsen decided which case would advance to the next round. Boys cited the values of the exercise—in learning each of their cases inside and out, in listening carefully and well, and in getting emotionally invested in the case and the premise behind it—all with the fun aspect of competition driving the learning forward.

Life Science Investigations, With Real-Life Scientists Does boiling garlic affect its antibiotic properties? Can Daphnia magna become habituated to caffeine? How well do ants detect nutrients in water sources? Honors

Biology students in Dr. Peter Hyde’s class answered these questions and more, with help from medical professionals and research scientists. Throughout the winter term boys posed questions of their own scientific interest, developed experiment proposals, and turned to professionals for realtime feedback, honing their approaches all the while. These mentors—RL parents and alumni who are also research scientists, surgeons, hematologists, oncologists—assisted students in person and virtually. With feedback from those sessions, the boys refined their experimental plans and collected their data. In a typical year the students’ work culminates in a science fair-style event, in which faculty, staff, and fellow students peruse project posters and ask questions of the budding scientists. In this year, students instead developed and shared videos as the culminating presentation of their hard work.

“12 Angry (Class III) Men... in Quarantine” Class III boys in Derek Nelson’s Arts 10 Drama class harkened back to their Sixie Beaverbrook experience as they read and rehearsed the play 12 Angry Men, by Reginald Rose. Typically these sophomore performers would sit around the Harkness table in Mr. Nelson’s classroom, or in a semicircle of chairs on the Smith Theater stage, and rehearse their lines together. This spring the project took on a “radio play” format, as the boys ultimately performed Acts II and III of the play via Zoom, for advisors and other members of the faculty to tune into and enjoy. The nine students performed this courthouse drama— portraying the jurors in whose hands the life of a young man accused of homicide rests—as one of the course’s culminating elements on May 21.

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Combining Computer Animation with Ovid’s Metamorphoses In John Lieb and Nate Piper’s MSI (Math-Science Investigations) classes, the fourth marking period project was well-suited to distance learning: Every boy in the class was required to create a computer animation of a scene from Ovid’s Metamorpheses using the graphing program Desmos. Students were charged with using a variety of mathematical concepts and techniques to make their scene come to life. Faculty created a library of 20 videos, which demonstrated a variety of techniques in Demos, that boys could watch, re-watch, and then apply the techniques they learned to their specific project. Boys learned how to apply important mathematical concepts, such as piecewise functions and rotation of polygons, to make their animations happen. The unofficial “Best Project” winner was developed by Will Hutter and depicted Cadmus’s defeating a dragon who had slayed one of his men.

Lessons in Responsible, Engaged Citizenship The Civics mini-course has been a hallmark of the Class V program since 2011, providing younger students with lessons on the inner workings of the U.S. government, their civil rights and responsibilities, and the many forms service to country and commonwealth can take. Students didn’t miss a beat this spring as they, via Zoom, dove into the American election process, the branches of government, and immigration and naturalization. Boys heard from three members of the RL community who were born outside of the U.S. and became citizens by way of very different paths: Faculty member Ousmane Diop was born in Senegal, West

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Africa, and came to the U.S. as a high school student to attend Phillips Andover. Emose Piou—mother of Hansenard ’14 and Noah ’16—grew up in Haiti and came to America to pursue an engineering degree at New York Technical College. José Flores ’22, born in Guatemala City, was adopted at age three by his mother and father, who were born in the U.S. Virgin Islands and in El Salvador, respectively. Students learned about the judicial system, and the critical role of jurors from a panel of faculty, and they learned about the many forms of military service from Captain Colin Murphy ’05 who served in the U.S. Marine Corps from 2011 to 2015. By the end of this online minicourse, boys had a more informed sense of what it means to be responsible, engaged citizens.

On Crafting the Next Great College Essay In preparing boys for the college application process, college counselors meet with juniors to discuss the fine points of essay writing. This year, the Class II Zoom session began with Meredith Reynolds and Mike Lawler of the college office setting the scene: The boys had been hired as admission officers for the fictional Worthington University, and their job was to evaluate applicants and vote on whether or not to admit them. (“For our purposes, these applicants are all excellent students with a nice extracurricular list, so you are solely relying on their essays for your decisions here,” they told the boys.) Ms. Reynolds and Mr. Lawler broke the class up into committees, and in these committee sessions (Zoom breakout rooms) they would review six essays, organized in pairs. The students first read the essays quietly to themselves, and then the breakout rooms came alive with discussion. Boys were charged with assigning each essay a rating on a 1-to-10 scale and discussing the following: Which of these two students would you choose to admit? What did you like about that student’s essay? What about the other one didn’t work? Why wouldn’t you choose that person for admission? Points that the boys brought up during discussions were the value of including specific examples and anecdotes; of striking the right voice and tone; of communicating your intellectual interests in authentic and engaging ways; and of enlisting humor where appropriate.

Nobel Prize-Winning Economist Esther Duflo, On Tackling Poverty Esther Duflo presenting at Pop!Tech 2009. Credit: Pop!Tech/Flickr through a Creative Commons license

In celebration of Roxbury Latin’s 375th anniversary, the school welcomed a series of esteemed speakers who brought to light some of the challenges and potential solutions related to homelessness and poverty. This focus is consistent with RL’s long-held mission characterized by concern for others. While the COVID-19 pandemic required that we stop gathering in person this spring, students, faculty, and staff came together for a virtual Hall on April 21, as we concluded this anniversary series with a presentation by Professor Esther Duflo. Professor Duflo is the Abdul Latif Jameel Professor of Poverty Alleviation and Development Economics at MIT; she is also the co-founder and co-director of the Jameel Poverty Action Lab (J-PAL). Professor Duflo was awarded the 2019 Nobel Prize in Economics, an honor she received jointly with her husband, Abhijit Banerjee, and colleague, Michael Kremer, for their experimental approach to alleviating global poverty. Professor Duflo is only the second woman to win this Prize since it began in 1969 and is its youngest recipient. Issues of poverty and homelessness are only exacerbated amid a global pandemic. Professor Duflo began by highlighting how various communities around the world are disproportionately affected by COVID-19 and stay-at-home directives: developing countries with dense populations or remote villages, and poor healthcare systems; homeless individuals who cannot shelter at home because they do not have one; small business owners; and African American and Hispanic communities who suffer disproportionately from preexisting

health conditions and are more likely to work essential jobs and risk exposure. Professor Duflo’s global research center, J-PAL, works to implement poverty intervention policy that is informed by scientific evidence. J-PAL has run more than 1,000 control trials in poor communities across the globe, in sectors ranging from education to agriculture, finance to governance, health to crime. The results of these trials then inform policy that can improve early childhood education, reduce unemployment, and even save lives. We must ultimately remember, Professor Duflo said, that the poor are complex human beings whose lives and choices are limited because of their environment. Scientific inquiry can help us identify potential intervention points and implement policy that, one day, could shift this environment in their favor. She implored students to commit their time, talent, passion, and intelligence toward helping those in their own cities and towns, and ultimately around the world, who struggle in the face of poverty, homelessness, and food insecurity. Dr. Duflo is the recipient of numerous academic honors, including the Princess of Asturias Award for Social Sciences, and a MacArthur “Genius Grant” Fellowship. With Abhijit Banerjee, she wrote Poor Economics: A Radical Rethinking of the Way to Fight Global Poverty, which won the Financial Times and Goldman Sachs Business Book of the Year Award in 2011 and has been translated into 17 languages. Together they also co-wrote Good Economics for Hard Times: Better Answers to Our Biggest Problems. //

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FACULTY FLASHBACK Joe Kerner

2012

Joe Kerner, beloved teacher and longtime Chair of the English Department and member of the faculty for 36 years, retires.

A Conversation with Joe Kerner by MIKE POJMAN

Your teaching career spanned 53 years. How did you do that? I never particularly thought about doing anything else. I loved teaching, and the years just flew by. Obviously there were some troughs in there. The thing about teaching is that every year is different, which is odd to say because I presided over English programs that tended to read many of the same titles year after year rather than changing them frequently. But every year there’s a new set of students, a new set of challenges, a new set of opportunities. Every year it was exciting to start again—renewing, somehow. When I first started teaching, I thought I would teach for a few years and then go back and get a PhD and teach in college. But I was challenged by the idea of choosing a field of specialization, when I was so eclectic in my tastes. I’ve never regretted teaching at the secondary level where I could be a generalist, reading Shakespeare and Tony Morrison and American and British and foreign authors in translation.

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I still have dreams about Roxbury Latin—good ones, interesting ones. I’ll be grading an essay with a student there and going over it phrase by phrase, or I’ll be teaching a class. I find myself phrasing something in a class and then I’ll rephrase it, which I often did as a teacher, to my students’ amusement—or bemusement. I suppose the notion would be that I’m still trying to get it right, going back there and having the chance to polish up that phrase about Fitzgerald or Cheever. I’m not sure they are the most rest-inducing dreams.

Describe the typical RL boy in 1976, when you arrived, compared to 2012, when you retired. I’m delighted that the school has maintained its commitment to socio-economic diversity. There was a rough-cut, roughhewn quality to a lot of the boys back in the ’70s, and it had to do with the culture and society of the time—where the center of gravity of the student body was. I think kids probably felt more grateful to be at Roxbury Latin, though I’m sure not all of them did. I don't want to say that the boys in 2012 when I

retired were more entitled or more privileged, but I do think that the whole tide of society, or of the culture, had become somewhat lifted toward a sense of privilege and entitlement. People had more stuff, more toys. On the other hand I do think that, remarkably, Roxbury Latin boys—more than at any other school I know of—have an appreciation for one another and for the faculty, and a real inclination toward generosity of spirit, a sense that we aren’t struggling against one another in the process of education.

When you were hired by Tony Jarvis, you were given the mandate to revamp the English program. From what to what? I think the mandate for the English Department was somewhat a reflection of Tony’s mandate when he was hired, which was to return the program, like the school itself, to a more traditional, grounded sense of basic, but advanced, thinking skills—living skills, in Tony’s case—moral skills. When I arrived, the English Department was, oh, I don’t want to say every person for him or herself, but it was a bunch of bright, talented, individual teachers, each making up the year’s curriculum as he or she went along. My sense when I arrived was that because the students were bright and could read well and speak fluently, you didn’t really need to spend a lot of time teaching them how to analyze a text more deeply or to write more coherently. It was a shock to me. The theory was that in those few, early years you could teach smart kids everything they needed to know about how to read and write. And then in the later years there were electives for juniors and seniors that emphasized literature and discussion much more than further instruction in how to read critically, think critically, and write effectively. I thought we needed a change. That was a shock to the students, I think, when we didn’t all gather in the classroom and put our feet up and have bull sessions about the reading for the night—and that they actually had to write papers that hung together.

You were a big advocate of teaching a Shakespeare play at each grade level. Why was that? I decided that a year away from Shakespeare was a year too much. To my mind Shakespeare is still the cornerstone—the

lodestar—of literature in the English-speaking world. He’s also a writer whom people would not necessarily read on their own. He’s legendarily difficult. Boys come into the seventh grade never having been exposed to Shakespeare. If you’d mention his name they would all make funny faces as if to say, “Oh, my goodness, that’s so hard.” I thought if you start in the seventh grade with a play that’s fun, like “A Midsummer’s Night Dream,” and then build from there, they will become accustomed to Shakespeare and it wouldn’t seem so exotic and difficult. I still feel that way. But it may be an easier sell in a school like Roxbury Latin where they are doing the Classics from the beginning—a companionable kind of challenge.

You have taught many books throughout your career. What is your favorite? It’s so hard to say! Since I designed the program, I got to teach mostly things that I loved, so it’s hard to pick a favorite. And it changed. I think for many years “Hamlet” was my favorite thing to teach. Then, as I got older, “King Lear” became my

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the late Frank Delaney, who was going through Ulysses three paragraphs at a time. Unfortunately he passed away when he was far from finished with his project. I’ve found that as I get older I’m torn, because there’s no point in scrambling to keep up with all the good things being written. There are certainly more good books being written than I have time to keep up with, so I’m torn between that and the great pleasure of immersing myself in something that I’ve read three or four times before. A couple of years ago I re-read Moby Dick, which I’ve read maybe a dozen times since college. It is one of those things that—as trite as it is to say—every time I read it I see different things in it and it reflects different things in me.

Besides correct grammar and syntax, what did you look for in student writing? What made you say, “Wow, that was something!”

favorite. Some of my favorite works were the most challenging. There was a time when I would teach the whole of Walden. It was a huge challenge, but it also stirred controversy, and it made converts of kids who were dead set against Thoreau and his attitude and his long sentences. It’s a work that I love re-reading and proselytizing about. The Great Gatsby was definitely a favorite, as was Song of Solomon. I probably taught Heart of Darkness at least 40 times over the course of my career. It became a little more difficult to teach and a little more frustrating to teach, but I never wanted to give it up.

Clarity of expression—which is different from simply correctness—sharpness of expression, and exactness of phrasing. I was always impressed by a well-constructed argument that proposed a case and then argued it. I was not necessarily looking for someone to stake out an opinion that was off the beaten track, but rather simply to put together an analytical exploration of a work, starting with a certain passage or a certain character and from there building up a reasonable perspective—a lens—on the work as a whole. One of the things I spent a lot of time working on, with varying degrees of success, was how to build an introductory paragraph that would lead gradually into the meat of the analysis of the argument, and in the end lead out from the particulars of that analysis to a more general sense of the purpose of the work as a whole. That, to me, is the most sophisticated kind of critical writing.

What have you read recently that you would recommend?

Any idea how many essays you’ve read and graded in your lifetime?

There is a terrific memoir by a British woman named Helen McDonald. It’s called H is for Hawk. It is a hard read—it’s not a light book—but it’s a terrific read. I’m halfway through a number of books, which is something that I never used to do. And I re-read a lot. I’ve always loved to re-read, so I've been re-reading Ulysses in combination with a great podcast by

Some of my students would say fewer than I should have! And that somewhere I have a file cabinet that has essays that got stuffed in there—too heavy for me to carry around. When I first started teaching, the English Department policy was essentially to assign a theme a week, so it was basically an essay—or, for the younger boys, a composition—every weekend. If I counted

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the number of students I had over the course of that time, and I multiplied it out by an essay even every two weeks, it’s a lot. For me it was hard, because I liked reading student essays. I had a reputation for not liking grading, or at least putting it off. But I enjoyed reading essays. I always disliked the final part of it, which was putting a grade on it. I never was comfortable with that. That’s why I kept inventing the B/B minus, or the “B minus minus,” that kind of subtlety, or cop out—however you viewed it. One of my regrets is that it was such a busy school, there wasn’t time, except in rare cases, to have conferences with boys about their writing. That’s what I most enjoyed.

Do you have a favorite RL story? It’s not exactly a story. It’s more of a scene. I recall the members of the English department back in 1976. There were six or seven of us huddled together under the sloping ceiling of the English office (currently the upstairs conference room). It was no bigger than 13 by 20 feet. On a Friday afternoon, when nobody was coaching and everybody was just flat out exhausted—giddyexhausted from the week, trying to read the last few papers— somebody would break the silence and read a line from a student paper that would butcher the language or butcher a particular piece of literature, and we would go into howls of laughter. I was reminded of that recently, because of the whole notion of social distancing. Our desks were certainly not six feet from one another in that enclosed space. There were a couple of us who smoked. We subjected our colleagues to a lot of second hand smoke that probably did damage to them.

In the early years, you often brought your darling dog, Liza, to school with you, but you kept her in your Volkswagen Rabbit all day. I remember that every window of the car was licked from the inside so that you could hardly see in. Actually there were two dogs, as people from those years would remember. I had a Lab named Heidi, and Liza was a Springer Spaniel. Because I was single parenting at that point, I would bring them, and they would run around school in the morning flushing out pheasants and possums and things like that. And I would put them in the car with the windows down so they couldn’t get out. Liza was a little territorial. Springers are

adorable-looking but they can be pretty alpha. She protected the car. On clean-up days, when the kids would go by in the morning picking up stuff around the car, Liza would go crazy. I confess I often used having the dogs as an excuse to get out, especially in my first years. There were a lot more kids who were not doing things in the after-school hours, and they would come in and want to talk about this or that—and that was great, but I could always use the dogs as an excuse, to get them some fresh air or let them run. It was a little break. In the afternoons the dogs would go up to the pond beyond Quail Street, and they would come out covered to their haunches with muck. Tony Jarvis always remembered the times when I drove him somewhere in my car. There was not only the wet dog smell, but I was a smoker back then so you also had that stale cigarette smoke.

The Yearbook or Tripod affectionately called you “Java Joe.” You were legendary for your ever-present coffee mug at school. How many cups in a typical day these days? Decaf or regular? Most days I have one cup and that’s it. And it’s usually regular, but now I actually put a little milk in it. I used to kid with the students that most of the time the mug I carried around was empty, or if I knew the students well I would say it was actually full of rum. I continued to drink a fair amount of coffee after I retired, but now there are days when I will not have a cup, or I will substitute tea instead.

Any final thoughts as you look back on your long career? I’ve received some emails recently from students who were in my seventh grade class at Montclair Academy, my first year out of Princeton. They were talking about how I was the young cool guy who understood them, because I was not so much older than they were. Obviously that changed over the years. By the time I finished I was almost old enough, conceivably, to have been the great-grandfather of some of the Fifthies I taught. But one of the things I always appreciated about Roxbury Latin students in general was that even as I aged, and aged appreciably, they were very kind about not looking at me as if to say, “Well OK, boomer,” or in my case, “OK, silent generation.” They didn’t look at me as if I was some fossil or some vampire that had risen from the coffin. //

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from the archives

Anniversary, Interrupted by CHRIS HEATON

A card with the inscription “Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight Times” graces one of my bookshelves. It’s a fitting reminder for a teacher who fails often. In this year—one we think is unlike any other—it’s also apropos. This ancient school has gotten up after being knocked down before. Like the infamous Dempsey-Tunney “Long Count” fight, any declaration of victory can be controversial. (That championship fight was in September 1927, the very same month this old schoolhouse on our West Roxbury campus opened up.) And here, in the midst of our celebrating RL’s 375th year, the country—the world—has been knocked down by the COVID-19 pandemic, which has disrupted...well, everything. Beginning last September, we spent six, rich months immersed in school life and the accompanying anniversary events—a record-breaking Homecoming celebration (with food trucks!); a series of impressive alumni speakers and a winter art exhibit that featured six alumni artists; world-renowned individuals delivering Halls focused on poverty and homelessness; students building 76 beds in the gymnasium to donate to disadvantaged youth; the publication of Tony Jarvis’s final book, Men of Roxbury. Then our celebration, focused on honoring Roxbury Latin’s people and its long-standing mission, was cut short. One of the seminal events that was to be was the culminating 375th anniversary bash on Saturday, May 9. Alumni and friends would have begun to arrive on campus and seen school in action that Friday, May 8. Historians will recognize that day as V-E Day, ending World War II in the European theater. Roxbury Latin lost 19 alumni in that war, and it affected myriad students whose academic paths were disrupted by graduating early, late, or not at all. Postponing an anniversary bash to a year later due to global issues is not without precedent; the Tercentenary Dinner to celebrate the school from 1645 to 1945 was held on May 16, 1946,

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a year after V-E Day. Four hundred and twenty people were in attendance, including principal speaker, Dr. James Conant from RL Class of 1910 and Harvard’s president. (Conant was used to sitting in the center chair. After all, he was appointed by FDR as chair of the National Defense Research Committee which oversaw the Manhattan Project. Conant witnessed the testing of the bomb in July 1945.) To further commemorate the 300th anniversary, the school published Tercentenary History of the Roxbury Latin School by history master Richard Walden Hale, Jr. The silver anniversary of V-E Day on May 8, 1970, was also when the school celebrated its 325th anniversary. In conjunction with that celebration, Roxbury Latin published Forty Years On: The Old Roxbury Latin School on Kearsarge Avenue from the Civil War to the Twenties by Francis Russell, Class of 1928. More than 600 attendees gathered on campus that Friday night and had a good time save for one glitch: For the first and last time, Roxbury Latin hired Harvard Student Agencies to bartend. Those academic high flyers neglected to bring bottle openers, tablecloths, or enough ice to last more than 30 minutes. Worse, they were drinking behind the bar. (College students imbibing while bartending? Imagine!) The notes in the archives suggest that the turmoil of that week (Vietnam protests were rampant) was much to blame; according to an apology letter from the Harvard catering agency, the better bartending crews were unavailable because of the protests. Boston’s mayor, Kevin White, politely declined to attend the event, but the Assistant Superintendent of Boston Public Schools expressed her delight in attending. Harold W. Gleason (RL 1912) sent a neat note on behalf of his deceased father, longtime master Clarence W. Gleason, who had witnessed the School’s 250th anniversary in 1895. Young readers should plan on attending the 400th anniversary celebration of The Roxbury Latin School on May 6, or May 13, 2045. If we’re not still social distancing at that point, please shake my 77-year-old right hand. My left hand will be holding a very old scotch. //

Men of Roxbury Tony Jarvis’s Final Book Available for Purchase

Printed in conjunction with Roxbury Latin’s 375th Anniversary celebration, Tony Jarvis’s fifth and final book, Men of Roxbury, includes profiles of 28 of the school’s distinguished alumni, as Reverend Jarvis writes, “whose lives of public service seem to incarnate all that Eliot hoped for in his students.” The lives and careers of General Joseph Warren, Arthur Vining Davis, Frederick Law Olmsted Jr., and James Bryant Conant, among many others, are brought to life with extended and amusing detail. Published by Boston book publisher David Godine, RL Class of 1962, the book is available to purchase through the school for $35. Please email men_of_roxbury@roxburylatin. org for further details.

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Varsity Athletics: A Year in Review While the COVID-19 pandemic precluded the school’s ability to mount a spring athletic season, there was still much good news to celebrate—from the fields and courts, mats and ice— this school year. In 2019-2020, four out of six varsity teams competing had winning records. In the fall, Cross Country continued its impressive run by capturing another Independent School League title and finishing second place at the New England Championship meet. This achievement was on the heels of last season’s New England Championship title and second place ISL finish, and a remarkable 2017 season in which the team finished undefeated, capturing both the league and New England Championship titles. The team’s dual meet record over the last three seasons is an amazing 43 wins and two losses. Varsity Soccer compiled an 8-5-3 record in an especially competitive ISL this fall, earning the team the league’s Wiedergott Improvement Plate, given to the school whose record improves most dramatically from the previous season. The season had numerous highlights, including a last-minute goal at St. George’s to earn an impressive 5-4 victory; three hard-fought ties against tournament bound teams—at Brooks, at BB&N, and at Rivers; and impressive wins against Tabor Academy and St. Sebastian’s. RL’s performance brought it within a veritable whisker of earning a spot in the prestigious New England Prep Tournament. This winter, Varsity Wrestling finished the regular season with a 15-5 record and went on to host the Graves-Kelsey League Championship Tournament, finishing fourth and placing seven wrestlers, including two seniors as tournament champions: Evan Kisselev at 152 pounds, and Javi Rios at 220 pounds. Six wrestlers qualified for the New England Championship Tournament and

Teams across all grades this year compiled an excellent record of 194-83-17. If RL were a batter, he would be hitting .659. On Prize Day, Headmaster Brennan awarded the Varsity Team Awards which recognize, in each varsity sport, an outstanding individual contribution by a member of the graduating class. Those winners this year were: LIAM O’CONNOR Cross Country Award EJIRO EGODOGBARE Football Award JACK CLOHERTY Soccer Award CHARLIE WEITZEL Basketball Award MIKEY JONES Hockey Prize, given in memory of William Follen Clapp of the Class of 1904. MAT CEFAIL Wrestling Award JOEY RYAN Baseball Prize, given in memory of Harold Philbrick Drisko of the Class of 1913. COLLIN BERGSTROM Lacrosse Award, given by families of the Class of 1984 in loving memory of three members of the class who died in college: Michael

two boys for the National Prep Tournament.

A. Hannon, Kevin Brennan Mullin, and Matthew L. Van Orman.

Varsity Basketball had its best season in years and finished with an overall record of 17-6, including a second place ISL finish with a mark of 11-4. The team was selected as the #5 seed for the New England Class B Tournament where it faced #4 seed St. Luke’s School, eventually losing a tightly contested tilt 57-47.

JOEY BARRETT Tennis Award

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REID CORLESS Track and Field Award

Ejiro Egodogbare

Joey Ryan

Mat Cefail

Collin Bergstrom

Reid Corless

Liam O'Connor

Joey Barrett

Charlie Weitzel

Jack Cloherty

Mikey Jones

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RL Alumni Were Together (While Apart) This Spring, As Well While so many in-person events and celebrations were postponed or canceled this spring, Roxbury Latin’s Alumni and Development Office remained busy and focused on keeping grads connected to each other and to the school in various ways. Though Reunion Weekend wasn’t able to convene the classes ending in 0 and 5 on campus in May (those classes will reunite in May 2021, along with classes ending in 1 and 6), multiple reunion classes, ranging from 1965 to 2015, connected via Zoom throughout the spring months. These virtual gatherings were informal, informational, and provided updates on happenings at Roxbury Latin from a member of the Alumni Office. They also allowed classmates to catch

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up with one another, about their families, work, and travel; to reminisce, share stories, and celebrate their Reunions in a different way. The Alumni Office also provided the opportunity for members of all individual classes to connect remotely this spring, and many chose to do so. The Roxbury Latin Alumni Council, consisting of 23 grads from various class years, helped to coordinate multiple virtual networking events this spring: The RL Commercial Real Estate Networking Group, led by Alumni Council President Mike McElaney ’98, gathered virtually on April 23 for a roundtable discussion, to share experiences and support one

another as the COVID-19 pandemic was significantly impacting the real estate industry. The conference included 25 alumni, a number of whom were based outside of Boston and who were able to join a meeting of this group for the first time, without the geographical constraints. This conference also drew strong interest from college seniors anxious about their job search and prospects, and lots of beneficial connections were made between them and older alumni. On May 14, the RL Lawyers Networking Group gathered over Zoom to address the COVID-19 crisis and its legal challenges and implications. During the conversation, lawyers from various fields and class years shared insight and guidance on the provision of legal services, access to the courts, commercial real estate, the pharmaceutical industry, healthcare provider challenges, and issues related to employment law, among other topics. This event was led by David Giangrasso ’93, Greg Noonan ’94, and Ron Allen ’95. More than 25 RL grads joined the discussion. Finally, The RL Educators Networking Group, led by JP Jacquet ’01 and Pete Simpson ’01, formed this spring in response to the pandemic and met virtually on May 25 to discuss trends and changes in education, as well as the future of the academic world and schools in general. Alumni educators from all over the country— from various academic levels and institutions—joined

the meeting, and the group planned to reconvene over the summer to continue the discussion. The Alumni Office also helped to coordinate virtual meetings for ISL Championship teams celebrating Reunion years! The 1990 ISL Championship basketball team, the 1994 ISL Championship soccer team, the 1995 ISL Championship baseball team, the 2000 ISL Championship lacrosse team, and the 2000 ISL Championship baseball team all connected via Zoom to share memories of those special seasons and reconnect with former teammates, coaches, and friends. The Alumni and Development Office continues to seek ways in which to connect RL alumni to each other and to the school during these unusual and challenging times. We encourage you always to update our office with relevant news and notes, and regarding any changes to your contact information. Alumni can keep up-to-date via the school’s website (www.roxburylatin.org), social media platforms, and through our alumni app. Please reach out to Dave Cataruzolo, Director of Alumni Affairs and Planned Giving, with any questions or updates at david. cataruzolo@roxburylatin.org or 617-477-6314. As always, we are so grateful for such supportive and loving alumni, and we wish you all the best this fall. //

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class notes

1948

Dick Daly lives at Atria Senior Living in Newburyport. He and his wife, Laurie, own a condo on the Merrimack River. Dick has been retired from Raytheon since 1991.

1952

James Gustafson and his wife, Ellie, “still walk three miles every fair day” and visit their eight grandchildren, and soon to be three great-grandchildren, while rooting for the Red Sox and Patriots each season. They send “Blessings to all” during these trying times.

1953

Jack Banton reports: “John Bennett ’51 helped me with a reference to an oncologist at Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa, Florida. I have been treated for ‘Pure Red Cell Aphasia’ and regained my life. Praise be!!”

1954

Hal Bernsen and his wife, Mary, continue to enjoy life at the Oceanfront in Virginia Beach, albeit at “home” more than they are used to due to the virus.

1963

David Scheff continues to practice as a pediatrician at Roslindale Pediatrics. He commends current RL students for the “excellent job” they have done during the COVID-19 crisis.

1966

Seven members of the Class of 1966

gathered for a Virtual Reunion this spring. Attendees included: Dave Donahue, David Finck, Bob Powers, Paul Kirshen, Carl Roberts, Jay Bartlett, and Richard Shapiro.

1967

After teaching college students for eighteen years, Ron Greenwald has been teaching seniors, all older than he is, at the Dedham Senior Center and Regis University. He loves the difference.

1970

On June 11, members of the RL Class of 1970 celebrated their 50th reunion via Zoom. In attendance were: Ed Curley, Steve Rogers, Tom Quirk, Jack Cowles, Gregor Shapiro, Bill Marsh, Mark Peters, Barry Michelson, John Semper, and Paul Bowers.

1982

Daniel Mackay is nearing his third anniversary as Deputy Commissioner of Historic Preservation, overseeing New York State’s administration of federal and state historic preservation programs and incentives. His current focus concerns planning for how New York’s historic sites reopen to the public as well as migrating state historic site programming and exhibits to online formats. Charles Pinck’s “Operation Overlord: OSS and the Battle for France” is an award-winning documentary that tells the story of Allied special forces whose daring exploits changed the course of World War II. It includes an introduction by Secretary Leon Panetta. Roxbury Latin alumnus Chadwick

Braggiotti ’31 served in OSS. The film was shown by nearly all the Allied embassies whose armed services fought in the Battle of Normandy, the U.S. Department of State, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and MSNBC’s “Morning Joe” to commemorate the 2020 anniversary of D-Day. It can be streamed from osssociety.org.

1990-1992

There was a great showing on May 21 for the 30th reunion of the 1990 ISL Basketball Championship Team. Coaches Brad Perham and Jack Brennan joined Jim Hamilton ’91, Geoff Chapin ’92, John Meany ’90, Eyan Mitchell ’90, Frantz Alphonse ’90, Jim Batuyios ’91, Dave Morgan ’90, Dan Guden ’92, Mike Hennessy ’90, and Thomas Duffy ’91.

1995-1998

On May 14, the coaches and players of RL’s 1995 ISL Baseball Championship Team met via Zoom to celebrate the 25th reunion of their championship season. In attendance were former faculty members and coaches Frank Guerra, Michael Obel-Omia, Will Brett ’95, Tim Killgoar ’95, Bo Menkiti ’95, Matt Petherick ’95, Mike Scally ’95, Kevin Schroeder ’95, Dave Fusaro ’96, Tom Guden ’96, Andy McElaney ’96, Jay Mitchell ’96, Jay Tedeman ’96, Jeb Ligums ’97, Pat Sullivan ’98, and Erik Fagan ’98.

1998

Roxbury Latin’s Alumni Council President Mike McElaney reports that in late April the Class of 1998 had a virtual happy hour, with approximately 20 people on the call from all across See photo on page 76.

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From top: Mark Powers ’02 married Alicia Bouges in Copper Mountain, Colorado, in December 2019; Matthew Gattozzi ’14 and Kristina Brennan married in Austin in June 2020; (right) Massachusetts State Trooper Andrew Zeller ’99 was honored as an Officer of the Month for May 2020; Aditya Mahalingam-Dhingra ’08 married Jackie Bruleigh in December 2019.

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1970

2000 lacrosse

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1995

the country. He was glad to see that more than half of his classmates in attendance were alumni who aren’t typically able to attend local events.

Massachusetts State Trooper Andrew Zeller was honored as an Officer of the Month for May by the National Law Enforcement Memorial Fund and Museum, for his fast response in helping save an apparent overdose victim in Boston earlier this spring.

Grads gathered for the 20th Reunion of RL’s 2000 ISL Lacrosse Championship Team. Alumni included: Lucas Robertson ’00, Eben Pingree ’00, Jake Grossman ’00, Owen Claypool ’00, Tim Pingree ’02, Hart Claypool ’01, Roy Mabrey ’01, Andrew Budreika ’01, Mark Valentino ’02, Andrew Spencer ’00, Nat Reimers ’00, David Yogg ’00, Tom Hennessey ’01, Colin Flynn ’01, Jerry Murphy ’01, JP O’Reilly ’01, Colin Kennedy ’01, Michael Berry ’01, Matthew Bartek ’01, and David Tarr ’02.

2000-2003

2002

1999 1990

basketball

Members of the 2000 ISL Baseball Championship Team reconnected via Zoom on May 21. Coach John Lieb, Rob Arcangeli ’00, Jake Ramey ’00, Pete Pasciucco ’01, Ryan Scannell ’03, James O’Leary ’02, Michael Early ’00, Mike Ferrante ’01, Chris Kenney ’03, Mike Lawrie ’01, Brian O’Leary ’02, and Oliver Harper ’00.

2006

Amit Paley, CEO and Executive Director of The Trevor Project, is as busy as ever. Since the onset of COVID-19 the volume of youth reaching out to the program’s crisis services program has at times doubled. “There are so many young people who are impacted and scared, in unsafe or challenging situations, and many of them are reaching out for help and to talk about what they are going through,” he says. The Trevor Project provides 24/7 counselor access for LGBTQ young people in crisis. Dedric Polite and his wife, Krystal, are busy operating seven business entities and a non-profit while raising their two young sons.

2000 baseball

Ifeanyi Anidi, M.D., Ph.D feels “lucky and blessed” to be caring for patients with COVID-19 in the ICU at the National Institute of Health. Ifeanyi works as a pulmonary and critical care medicine fellow. Inspired by his family’s Nigerian roots, Ifeanyi became fascinated with studying diseases endemic to Africa while earning his M.D. and Ph.D. at Johns Hopkins. His Ph.D. dissertation research involving malaria’s effect on the lungs influenced his ongoing study of Tuberculosis.

Mark Powers married Alicia Bouges in Copper Mountain, Colorado, in December. A strong RL contingent was present, including Mark’s father, Bob ’66, twin brother Brent (best man), Jakub Lau, Jim Levy, and Sam Oates. Alicia and Mark were introduced in 2016 at a Halloween party in Boston and moved to Switzerland together in September 2017. They have been living in Luzern and enjoying all that Europe has to offer the past three years, and will be relocating back to the U.S. this fall. See photos on pages 75 and 76.

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L to R: Bob Powers, Jane Powers, Anna Sparks, Brent Powers, Alicia Powers, Mark Powers, Jakub Lau, Ashley Banks Lau, Jim Levy, Jaclyn Levy, Caitlyn Oates, Sam Oates (photo on page 75)

Brennan married in Austin on June 7, 2020, with 13 guests present due to COVID-19. Matt runs his own marketing and advertising company, Gattozzi Collective.

2004

2015

Scott Sayare’s feature on French microbiologist Didier Raoult, “He Was a Science Star. Then He Promoted a Questionable Cure for COVID-19,” was published in The New York Times on May 12, 2020.

2006

John Spatola happily reports that 23 members of the Class of 2006 gathered remotely via Zoom this spring.

2008

Aditya Mahalingam-Dhingra married Jackie Bruleigh on December 8, 2019, in Topsfield. RL Classmates Michael Oberst, Lawson Ferguson, Remy Lupica, and Arjun Bahadur Downs were present. The groom is currently Chief of the Office of Payment and Care Delivery Innovation at MassHealth/ Executive Office of Health and Human Services. The couple resides in Somerville.

2011

Paul Healy and his brother Michael ’17 recently published a short piece in CommonWealth Magazine that explains how business owners and job seekers of color are disadvantaged in the current crisis and presents some specific ways in which our state and local leaders should respond.

2014

Matthew Gattozzi and Kristina

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Although Adam Fasman is disappointed that his Fulbright in Spain ended prematurely in March, he has been enjoying some time relaxing at home in Newton. He will be attending The Geisel School of Medicine at the medical school of Dartmouth College, beginning this summer. Sean Lowrie was recently accepted at Duke’s Fuqua School of Business’ Accelerated MBA program. He looks forward to remaining at Duke for one more year.

2016

When Will Weitzel’s senior season at Yale was cut short due to COVID-19, he decided to test the professional lacrosse waters instead of returning to the NCAA playing field. Will was drafted this spring by the Chesapeake Bayhawks as the sixth-overall pick.

2017

Brown University Athletics reports: “Baseball rising senior Joe Lomuscio has been named a CoSIDA Academic All-American for the second straight year. Lomuscio, an outfielder, garnered Third Team Academic All-America honors. He was named to the Second Team last year and also earned Academic All-District accolades in 2019 and 2020. He was one of six repeat selections named to an Academic AllAmerica team in 2020. Lomusico, an

economics concentrator, started all 12 games as the team’s center fielder this season and was named an Academic All-Ivy selection. He led the Bears with six stolen bases and posted a .404 slugging percentage.”

The University of Texas, Dallas, announced the formation of the Dennis M. Kratz Research Center in honor of former RL faculty member Dr. Dennis Kratz’s 22 years of service as Dean of the School of Arts and Humanities. The Dennis M. Kratz Research Fund will support the research of undergraduate and graduate students in the school who demonstrate academic excellence and creative thought in their studies. Professor Kratz taught Greek and Latin at Roxbury Latin from 1964 to 1972. See photo on page 75.

Annual Fund Sets New Record As the 2019–2020 Annual Fund closed on May 31, Annual Fund donations totaled $4,359,180.61, setting another record.

Annual Fund Chairman Bryan Anderson, ALGC Co-Chairs Jay Mitchell and Andy McElaney, along with Parent Fund Co-Chairs Beth and Jim Frates and Vice Co-Chairs Caroline and Soren Oberg have done an outstanding job leading a team of dedicated volunteers. As a result, parent participation was 99 percent this year. Parents raised $1,638,051.75. Our alumni volunteers have also worked diligently to ensure that the 2019-2020 Annual Fund was a banner year for them—alumni raised $1,686,686.89 with 54% participation.

None of this would be possible without the energetic, persistent leadership of Tobey O’Brien, Annual Fund Director. The continued level of commitment to Roxbury Latin demonstrated through the Annual Fund is both a ringing affirmation of the difference the school makes in boys’ lives and a testimonial to the tireless devotion of the men and women who served this year as volunteers.

This year in particular, we extend our deepest gratitude to all those who invested in Roxbury Latin, allowing us to preserve the school’s unique financial model. On behalf of the boys—your beneficiaries—we thank you for your continued support. There is no better way to honor the boys and their teachers, today and always. Roxbury Latin is the school that it is because of you. //

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in memoriam

Robert Shepard Brainerd ’34 was born November 11, 1915, in Dover, Massachusetts. He died of COVID-19 on May 6, 2020, at age 104. Bob grew up in Dover and then resided in Natick for 30 years before subsequently moving to Quincy, where he lived for the past 40 years. He was the son of Eleanor Shepard and Henry B. Brainerd. Robert’s younger brother, John Whiting Brainerd, also graduated from Roxbury Latin in 1936. Arriving at Roxbury Latin as a member of Class II, Bob was a strong English and German student. He was among the earliest generation of boys to begin their Roxbury Latin education at the school’s West Roxbury campus. Bob was a devoted student and received high marks in Deportment, Attention, Fidelity, and Neatness. In

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anticipation of his 50th RLS reunion, Bob wrote, “Before I attempt to summarize my quite unsummarizable career, let me express something I have only recently come to appreciate: You members of the class of ’34 accepted me much more completely than any other group of my peers had ever done up to that time. This must have been of incalculable benefit to me, and—belatedly—I want to express my thanks.” After graduating from Roxbury Latin, Bob matriculated at Harvard College, where he earned his AB in Economics in 1938. During the summer of 1938, Bob went to Europe and spent three weeks in Nazi-occupied Austria working with refugees. Reflecting on the experience years later, he joked, “Mr. Dickey would have been proud of

my German.” That September, back in Boston, Bob wrote Headmaster Northrop and quipped: “By the way, how do the grounds look after the [Great New England Hurricane]? If Mr. Dickey’s group isn’t equal to the task of cleaning up the debris we ought to organize an alumni chopping squad for some Saturday afternoon!” Bob began his professional life with two years in investment consulting. He then co-founded the Farm and City Exchange, an egalitarian economics network. He served three and a half years in the Civilian Public Service, fire fighting in the mountains of California and running a repair shop for tools. In 1946, Bob married Carol Hutchings, with whom he shared sixty-two years until her passing in 2008. Carol and Bob lived in New

York for several years after their marriage, working to establish a world peace organization. Bob later completed intensive graduate work in accounting at Boston University, and held several positions in research grant administration in the Harvard Medical Area, particularly the Office of Grants and Contracts at the Peter Bent Brigham Hospital. An activist throughout his life— dedicated to civil rights, peace, ecology and global democracy—Bob will be remembered for effective organizing and eloquent speaking. Bob’s thoughtful, courteous nature made him dear to all who knew him. His family cherishes the memory of his whimsical humor, the poems he recited in four languages, the sound of him chopping firewood, and his delight in nature. They imagine him now, sailing among the islands along the coast of New England. Bob is survived by his children, David Brainerd of Worcester and Madeleine Brainerd of Brooklyn, NY. Timothy Cornelius Murphy ’46 died April 23, 2020, at the age of 91. He was born on September 6, 1928, the son of Timothy C. Murphy and Albina B. Celle. Tim grew up in Roslindale and attended the Washington Irving School prior to gaining admission to Roxbury Latin. Headmaster Northrop wrote in a 1946 college letter that Tim was a boy of “generous nature, excellent character who likes nothing better than to be helpful. He is musical, ready and skillful with his hands,

and indefatigable in taking on odd jobs, such as stage-lighting for school plays, turning records for dances, the projector for assembly, etc. His behaviour has been exemplary.” Tim was a devoted volunteer and maintained a steadfast commitment to public service throughout his life, fulfilling the Founder’s hope that a Roxbury Latin education would “fit [boys] for service both in Church and Commonwealth.” Later in life, Tim reflected, “I have always felt that citizens should spend some time in assuring that community services that need increased attention should be pursued by residents as part of their membership in that community.” Tim matriculated at Harvard College, where he earned his SB in Engineering Sciences and Applied Physics in 1950. He subsequently completed Math and Physics graduate courses at Northeastern from 1953 to 1955. After a short career in the New England textile machinery manufacturing business at the Crompton and Knowles Loom Works in Worcester, MA, Tim enlisted in the U.S. Army during the Korean War and was assigned to a special technical unit involving Army Ordnance Development for the duration of his army career. Returning to civilian life, he started as a machinery design engineer for the Polaroid Corporation, where he worked for 32 years. Tim’s engineering work centered around machinery design for the specialized assembly and large-scale process machinery developed and built by the company for the manufacture of Polaroid film.

He spent the latter years in Senior Engineering, responsible for almost all of the machinery that Polaroid used in the manufacture of their Picture in a Minute film product. Tim concluded his working career as an independent consultant in the field of industrial automation. Soon after he joined Polaroid, Tim married Jeanette Comeau, with whom he shared 65 wonderful years. They raised three daughters together. Tim was a choral singer and sang for more than 25 years in the Saint Margaret Mary Church Choir in Westwood, MA. He also sang in Boston’s Masterworks Chorale for seven years and served on their Board of Directors for two of those years. Tim was a perpetual advocate of services for the developmentally disabled. He served many years on the Board of Directors, and later as the Chairman and President, of the South Norfolk County Association for the Disabled. During his retirement in Topsfield, MA, Tim served for 10 years as the town’s representative on the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority Advisory Board. Tim is survived by his wife, Jeanette Murphy; daughter, Karen and her husband Stash Jarosz; daughter, Brenda and her husband Douglas Limone; daughter, Paula Murphy; and four grandchildren. James Edward Haddow ’53 was born July 16, 1934, in Newport, Rhode Island, the son of Madeline Gosling and James Haddow. Jim died on June 13, 2020, in Standish, Maine, at the

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age of 85. Jim’s classmates praised him in the Yearbook for “his concern for his fellow man” and his “unfailing friendliness and good nature.” They voted him most “modest.” Headmaster Weed described Jim, in his college letter, as “a fine boy by instinct… modest and extremely conscientious, and always anxious to do more than his share to make things go well. He is polite and cooperative to a superlative degree.” Jim later recalled that RL’s small class size truly made his high school years “enjoyable and fulfilling,” since “it [was] possible for all of us to get to know each other really well.” Jim was broadly involved in extracurricular pursuits as a student. As an underclassman he played tennis, wrestled, and threw shot put for track and field. Later, he sang for the Glee Club and wrote and photographed for The Tripod. He took up baseball and participated in the Shooting Club. Jim also belonged to a Young People’s Church Club, and volunteered for the Red Cross. He was Chairman for Prom his junior year, tried out soccer, and began sailboat racing. The industrious nature he displayed at Roxbury Latin was a precursor to the busy professional life he would lead. Jim matriculated at Harvard, where he earned his undergraduate degree in 1957. While a student, he met and began dating Paula Kozodoy. The two were married in 1958, while Jim was enrolled as a student at Tufts Medical School. After earning his MD in 1961, Jim interned at the Maine Medical Center and then completed his residency in pediatrics at Boston City Hospital in 1964. From 1964 to

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1966 Jim served in the Army, and was stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, where the family lived for two years. Jim completed a fellowship in endocrinology at Boston City Hospital from 1966 to 1968, and then served as Director of Pediatric Endocrinology there from 1971 to 1974. Jim also served during those years as Assistant Director of the Clinical Research Center at Boston City Hospital; as an Assistant Professor of Pediatrics at Boston University Medical School; and as an Associate Professor of Pediatrics. In 1974, Jim moved with his family to the home in Standish where he and Paula lived for the past 45 years. Jim became the Associate Director of the Rheumatic Disease Laboratory at Maine Medical Center, and he started his work with the organization that ultimately became the Foundation for Blood Research. For the next 40 years, working from his base in Maine with colleagues from around the world, Jim pioneered research in the fields of prenatal screening and maternal and child health. Jim later accepted a research professorship at the Warren Alpert Medical School at Brown, with a joint appointment as director of a new Division of Medical Screening at Women and Infants Hospital in Providence, an arrangement he called “geographically complex” but fulfilling. Beginning in the 1950s, the Haddow family vacationed in Maine. As an avid outdoorsman, Jim always made the most of living in Maine, particularly after moving there from Boston. He loved fishing, canoeing, hiking, and reveling in the wilderness.

Jim always took special pride and pleasure in being able to share these places and his passion for good food, an engaging story, and the outdoors with his children and grandchildren. He and Paula enjoyed many evenings throughout their 62-year marriage entertaining and cooking for friends, but family gatherings were always his favorite social occasions. Jim is survived by his wife, Paula; son, James and his wife Michelle Ritchie-Haddow; son, Jon and his wife Jill Gordon; daughter, Anne and her husband Mark Cressey. He is also survived by his eight grandchildren. Those wishing to remember Jim may make gifts in his name to The Roxbury Latin School, 101 St. Theresa Ave., West Roxbury, MA 02132. Kenneth Stephen Anderson ’61 died April 11, 2020, at the age of 76. He was born January 19, 1944—son of Katherine Thornton and Karl Anderson. Ken grew up in West Roxbury and attended St. Theresa School prior to gaining admission to Roxbury Latin. Ken was an exceptional math and science student at Roxbury Latin. The Yearbook highlighted his “interest and ability along scientific lines” which made Ken “one of few boys to maintain his (relative) sanity through physics and chemistry.” In his college letter, Headmaster Weed called him a “quiet and serious” student who “does his work and does it well,” more important “a good citizen” who was “thoroughly reliable and faithful to

all commitments.” Ken participated in Chess Club, tennis, softball, and basketball. He later played squash and worked outside of school as a clerk at First National Bank. Having grown up in a predominantly Catholic neighborhood, Ken was fascinated by the diversity of religion that he found at Roxbury Latin, and he fondly recalled later in life how important—a “God-given relief ” he even joked—to make Protestant and Jewish friends at Roxbury Latin. After graduating from Roxbury Latin, Ken matriculated at MIT, where he earned an SB in Humanities and Engineering. After college, Ken worked for the Social Security Administration as a Quality Appraisal Specialist, evaluating the effectiveness of the federal program. He then became an electrical engineer in quality control for Krohn-Hite Inc. In the late 1970s, Ken became very involved with the Westwood Bridge Club, where he later served as director and instructor. Ken is survived by his brothers Gerald Anderson and his wife Hannah, and Lawrence Anderson and his wife Sharon. Ken also leaves several nieces, nephews, great-nieces, and great-nephews. William Edward Bilodeau ’69 died June 20, 2020, at the age of 68. He was born July 22, 1951, the son of Wilma and John Bilodeau. Bill attended the Tucker School in Milton prior to gaining admission to Roxbury Latin. In an alumni questionnaire one year, Bill wrote, “I have always felt RL to

be the most important and lasting part of my education, far outweighing undergraduate and graduate work.” At Roxbury Latin, Bill was broadly involved in all aspects of student life. As an underclassmen, he played soccer and baseball and participated in the Stamp Club and French Play. Outside of Roxbury Latin, he spent his free time playing pool and practicing piano. As a sophomore, Bill began managing the baseball team, played soccer, and participated in the Library Committee and the Senior Play. By junior year he also took on managing the football team. He worked as a tutor, wrote for The Yearbook, and was a key member of the stage crew for the Senior Play. In his college letter, Assistant Headmaster Dilworth praised Bill for his “great variety of interesting pursuits,” and particularly an interest in architecture that prompted visits to Williamsburg and Monticello, as well as Chicago, Salt Lake City, Denver, and Los Angeles, where he attempted architectural plans. Bill was also interested in pre-1940 cars, which he restored. Mr. Dilworth further praised Bill for having taken up gardening in high school, noting that he “grew vegetables and flowers from seed.” Bill also enjoyed classical music and antique furniture, which he restored. He was “a solid, steady student who contributed a good deal.” The Yearbook staff cracked that “Bill devotes himself to what he has learned are the only truths of this world… fine furniture, fine horses, and fine wine...”

Bill matriculated at Trinity College. He studied history and earned his BA in 1973. He later attended Northeastern University where he earned a MS in Accounting. Bill worked with Bank of Boston as Vice President and Chief Financial Officer of the Investment Banking Divisions. He was involved with mergers and acquisitions, private placements, and syndications, as well as mezzanine and venture investing. He later worked in the International Investment Banking Unit structuring and underwriting capital market transitions in the Euromarket for branches and customers in Latin America, particularly working with Brazilian and Argentinian issuers. Bill was the husband of Anne Bilodeau of Milton. He is survived by his daughter Lauren and her husband Brandon Dickerman, and his daughter Kasey and her fiancé Jordan Goodman. //

After graduating from Roxbury Latin,

N e w s l e t t e r o f Th e R o x b u r y L at i n S c h o o l

The Roxbury Latin School 101 St. Theresa Avenue West Roxbury, MA 02132-3496 www.roxburylatin.org Change Service Requested

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Roxbury Latin Newsletter: Summer 2020

Articles inside

Class Notes & In Memoriam

375th Anniversary Highlights

Frontline Reflections: Ten Roxbury Latin alumni share their personal thoughts and perspectives about the COVID-19 pandemic.

Recognizing Art Form Within Art Forms: A new

Honoring the Class of 2020

“Much will be expected.” | The Valedictory

RL News

A (Virtual) Celebration of Creative Writing

“As we are now, you will be.” | Board President

What Were Classes Like This Spring?