Nine SAS seniors reflect on the challenges and rewards of balancing arts and athletics
FEATURE STORIES
34 BUILDING COMMUNITY ON DAYS THAT END IN “Y”
The evolution of weekends at SAS—and the upside to downtime
42 MAKING THEIR MARK
A sampling of St. Andrew’s alumnae who have transformed their spaces CAN’T HELP BUT CONNECT
72 CLASS NOTES
76 IN MEMORY
80 THE LAST WORD
{ Kevin Jin ’26 presents at the 7th Annual McLean Science Lecture Competition. The competition is an exercise in intellectual curiosity—students explore a complex topic in science that interests them and present it to the school community, TED Talk style. Jin’s talk, “Rapid Testing of Antibiotics Employing Droplet Microfluidic Chips,” won the grand prize. }
Letter from the Editor
Dear Saint,
In just one 48-hour span of reporting for this issue, I spoke to a powerful trio of St. Andrew’s women. One left me awestruck, one left me starstruck, and one left me heartstruck.
I was awestruck by Margaux Lopez ’11, who was kind enough to let me breathlessly nerd-out about farflung galaxies, exoplanets, and biosignatures while she patiently reined me in to explain her history-making engineering work for the Vera Rubin Observatory. The observatory, nestled high in the misty Chilean Andes, is now home to the Legacy Survey of Space and Time Camera, a car-sized digital camera that she helped build. Affixed to the observatory’s telescope, its images may very well reframe everything we think we know about the universe. (Seriously.)
I was starstruck by CNN news anchor Erin Burnett ’94, who has headlined her solo news hour, Erin Burnett OutFront, for almost 15 years. During that time, she has reported from the frontlines of wars, pandemics, natural disasters, and uprisings. She’s held the Obama, Biden, and Trump administrations accountable. She believes fiercely in the true north and urgency of journalism. And she still laughs—genuinely so—about the time she went on the Conan O’Brien show wearing a new dress and forgot to have the clunky plastic security tag removed, which charmed the socks off of a national viewing audience.
Having this job, at this school, is critically important to me. I often feel imposter syndrome when I consider the weight of my responsibilities, one of which is to give full life to your stories, your triumphs, your histories, your voices.
I was heartstruck by Mary O’Shaughnessy Doherty ’82, a woman whose culture-shifting, history-making contributions to St. Andrew’s as the first woman class president were undermined by an error on my part. In the last issue, you will find, on page 34, a note about her in regard to history being made in “residential leadership” when she became the first Head Girl. I misunderstood ’80s SAS nomenclature and believed “Head Girl” to mean a residential leadership position, not a school presidency. This mistake was mine and mine alone. When I spoke with her about this, she was transparent and vulnerable. She read a beautiful excerpt of her Commencement speech, she asked smart questions, and when I became emotional (I’m a crier), she chose that moment to tell me it was okay, and worked to make me feel better. It was a remarkable moment of grace on her part, and I am so thankful for the personal lesson our talk inspired. (It should be noted that she comes from a line of strong women—shout out to Winnie, her mother, who at 91, is an absolute spitfire, which passed to her three SAS daughters: Ellen Nelson ’78, Annie O’Shaughnessy ’83, and, of course, Mary.)
Another Head Girl prior to the onset of the co-presidency was Dr. Gail Wright ’84, who, coincidentally, I spoke to for this issue, and who I would like to also recognize for the work she did for the school, the school’s history, and for the early women on campus.
Having this job, at this school, is critically important to me. I often feel imposter syndrome when I consider the weight of my responsibilities, one of which is to give full life to your stories, your triumphs, your histories, your voices. It takes courage and guts to give freely of your story, but one needs the space to do so to begin with. In this case, I faltered in providing that space. I might again. I very much hope not, but, as I somewhat eerily forecasted in my sign off last issue, “I am a work in progress.”
What I can tell you with certainty is that the stories and voices of the incredible, inspiring women in this issue—our last in the coeducation series—are but a microcosm of what Saints do beyond the pond, which is astounding to consider in itself. There are so many stories I’ve yet to hear and know, and I’m thrilled to be positioned to step into the well-worn waders of Bill Amos and “look under the log,” to borrow a line from Gail Wright.
I often say this to friends and family about St. Andrew’s alumni: “These people go out and change the world.” Perhaps I need to add “universe” now, too.
AK White
ST. ANDREW’S MAGAZINE
MAGAZINE EDITOR
AK White
DIRECTOR OF COMMUNICATIONS
Amy Kendig
COMMUNICATIONS TEAM
Chelsea Kneedler, August Ryan
CLASS NOTES EDITOR
Chesa Profaci ’80
PHOTOGRAPHY
Miles Abney ’20, Hugo Butler ’24, Misty Dawn Photography, Erin Farrell Photography, Avi Gold, Spencer Gross ’25, Kristin Honsel, Juliet Klecan ’25, Joshua Meier, Leo Teti ’26
MAIL LETTERS TO:
St. Andrew’s Magazine, 350 Noxontown Road, Middletown, DE 19709-1605
GENERAL EMAIL: magazine@standrews-de.org
CLASS NOTES EMAIL: classnotes@standrews-de.org
St. Andrew’s Magazine is published by the Communications Office for alumni, parents, grandparents and friends of St. Andrew’s School. Printed by Pavsner Press in Baltimore, Md. Copyright 2025.
Mission Statement of St. Andrew’s School
In 1929, the School’s Founder, A. Felix duPont, wrote:
The purpose of St. Andrew’s School is to provide secondary education of a definitely Christian character at a minimum cost consistent with modern equipment and highest standards.
We continue to cultivate in our students a deep and lasting desire for learning; a willingness to ask questions and pursue skeptical, independent inquiry; and an appreciation of the liberal arts as a source of wisdom, perspective, and hope. We encourage our students to model their own work on that of practicing scholars, artists and scientists and to develop those expressive and analytical skills necessary for meaningful lives as engaged citizens. We seek to inspire in them a commitment to justice and peace.
Our students and faculty live in a residential community founded on ethical principles and Christian beliefs. We expect our faculty and staff to make our students’ interests primary, to maintain professional roles with students and to act as role models at all times, to set and maintain healthy boundaries with students, to encourage student autonomy and independence, to act transparently with students, and to support each student’s developmental growth and social integration at the School. Our students collaborate with dynamic adults and pursue their passions in a co-curriculum that includes athletics, community service and the arts. We encourage our students to find the balance between living in and contributing to the community and developing themselves as leaders and individuals.
As an Episcopal School, St. Andrew’s is grounded in and upheld by our Episcopal identity, welcoming persons regardless of their religious background. We are called to help students explore their spirituality and faith as we nurture their understanding and appreciation of all world religions. We urge students to be actively involved in community service with the understanding that all members of the community share responsibility for improving the world in which we live.
St. Andrew’s is committed to the sustainability and preservation of its land, water and other natural resources. We honor this commitment by what we teach and by how we live in community and harmony with the natural world.
On our campus, students, faculty, and staff from a variety of backgrounds work together to create a vibrant and diverse community. St. Andrew’s historic and exceptional financial aid program makes this possible, enabling the School to admit students regardless of their financial needs.
BOARD OF TRUSTEES
Richard B. Vaughan ’88 P’24, Chair
Kellie S. Doucette ’88 P’18,’18,’21, Vice Chair
Monica Matouk ’84 P’18,’21,’23, Secretary
Kate Sidebottom Simpson ’96, Treasurer
Sarah Abbott ’99
Michael Atalay ’84 P’17,’19,’23
Aaron Barnes P’21,’24
The Rt. Rev. Kevin S. Brown Bishop of Delaware
Mati Buccini P’21,’23
Kiran Chapman P’21,’23,’28
W. Penn Daniel ’07
Porter Durham P’13,’25
Charles P. Durkin ’97
Ari K. Ellis ’89 P’26
Moira Forbes ’97
Anne Hance ’94
Edith “Sis” Johnson P’11
E. Bruce McEvoy IV ’95
Joy McGrath ’92 Head of School
Henry McVey P’25
Paul F. Murphy P’17,’19,’22
Jennifer B. Thomas P’22
Christian Wilson ’01
TRUSTEES EMERITI
Katharine duP. Gahagan GP’10,’11, Chair Emeritus
J. Kent Sweezey ’70, Chair Emeritus
Scott M. Sipprelle ’81 P’08, Chair Emeritus
Sabina B. Forbes P’97,’06 GP’21
Monie T. Hardwick P’02,’04,’07
Maureen K. Harrington P’91,’93,’96,’99,’02
Timothy W. Peters ’66 P’91,’93 GP’19,’21,’24
Steven B. Pfeiffer P’95,’97,’00,’04,’09
Sally E. Pingree P’01
Caroline duP. Prickett GP’18,’20
Henry duP. Ridgely ’67
Edward M. Strong ’66 P’07,’10
Alexander D. Stuart P’09
Although it has evolved since its inception in the 1990s, the tradition of the senior exhibition at St. Andrew’s is still going strong. In February, students began to deliver their oral exhibitions based on the essays they wrote analyzing their chosen text—all of it a feat of independent scholarly inquiry. Peter Bird ’25 sat down with English instructors Ben Knudsen and Dr. Martha Pitts to discuss By Night in Chile by Roberto Bolano.
At this year’s student-led Lunar New Year Chapel service in January— for which Saints were encouraged to wear red or other bright colors to celebrate the Year of the Snake—East Asian Affinity Group members offered personal reflections; performances on cello, violin, and the Guzheng (古筝), a Chinese plucked zither; a poetry reading, and traditional dance, performed by Josephine Xie ’27.
Victoria Wyeth was on campus in January to give the annual Payson Art Lecture, in which she unpacked the legacy and history of her iconic family of American artists, which includes her grandfather, the famed Andrew Wyeth; her uncle, Jamie Wyeth, a contemporary realist; and, of course, her great-grandfather N.C. Wyeth, who painted the legendary St. Andrew’s Dining Hall mural from 1936 to 1938.
And the crowd goes wild for St. Andrew’s boys basketball after defeating Dickinson High School in Round 1 of the state basketball tournament on February 25. A regular-season-ending five-game hot streak sent the 13-and-6 Saints to the tourney as the No. 17 seed. They ultimately fell to No. 1 Dover High in Round 2.
Message from the Head of School
We may be a small school, but we are a great one, because of who we become while we are here and how we emerge from this place to devote the fullness of ourselves to the world’s challenges.
One of the great things about a St. Andrew’s education is that we get to practice doing things we are not very good at—yet. We ask students to play multiple sports, for example. A lot of students have specialized in one sport by the time they reach high school, but we still believe it’s best not to train all year with a single team but rather begin again each season. No one person is going to be the best athlete on three different teams—so we must adapt and learn how to thrive and contribute to the team success each season, working with our strengths and those of our teammates. As an artist you may be an experienced and good painter, but a beginning actor. We require students to take visual arts and performing arts in the curriculum. You are simply going to do something here—many somethings—with which you struggle. You’ll encounter people who are better than you are in some dimension. That is how we grow, and that is how we accomplish things together that we never could have done alone.
I was reminded of this reading this magazine so many times—perhaps most especially in the “Nurturing Multidimensional Passions” article, which profiles some of our top athlete-artists. These seniors are an incredible example of flourishing at St. Andrew’s. I promise you that they were not great at all these things when they started—but they are all great people who have worked tremendously hard, risked and experienced failure, and picked themselves up and leapt headlong into the next challenge. It takes a lot of guts. And that’s what I see, too, in the stories of the St. Andrew’s women who have distinguished themselves in their fields since graduation. Our alumnae are the very best examples of what a St. Andrew’s education can do in the world—the creativity, the relentless work ethic, the teamwork, and the intellectual firepower incubated here combine to do everything from broadcasting breaking news worldwide to leading breakthrough scientific discoveries. As the Class of 1975—our first class with women graduates—prepares to celebrate their 50th reunion, our official celebration of coeducation at the school reaches its conclusion. But it goes without saying that, although this is our last official issue on the 50th anniversary of coeducation, our reporting on St. Andrew’s great women will never end!
I am proud of our students for how hard they work on themselves, and how much effort they devote to getting better every day. And I am proud of our alumni, who translate a St. Andrew’s education into meaningful lives. We may be a small school, but we are a great one, because of who we become while we are here and how we emerge from this place to devote the fullness of ourselves to the world’s challenges. I hope reading this magazine makes you as proud as it has made me, and I hope to see you on campus or on the road very soon! J
TRUSTEE’S CORNER
Get to know a member of our Board of Trustees Parent trustee J. Porter Durham Jr. P’13,’25 has tried. Like, really tried. But he keeps failing. “I just can’t find a single clunker in the group of St. Andrew’s people I know,” he says. “Not a single one. Trust me, I’ve looked, but they’re all just terrific.”
Durham is father to Leighton Durham ’13—who married fellow Saint Carter Speers ’13—and current Saint Grey Durham ’25.
“St. Andrew’s is proof that life’s eternal verities persist, even in the face of all harms,” he says. “It’s one of those rare places that is still true to its character, and that’s why [my wife] Vicki and I were so excited about having both Leighton and Grey attend. I think eternal truths are explored there, shared there, and guarded there. For those of us lucky enough to have had our children attend St. Andrew’s, those sacred truths are what make it so powerful.”
Durham says Leighton, now a clinical psychologist, embodies the school’s DNA. “She is a scholar to be sure. But I think what she learned at St. Andrew’s about friendship, fidelity, and community, and how these values are authentically pursued, comes through in her life,” he says.
As for Grey, “He’s as solid as a rock,” Porter says. “He knows his ‘true North.’ St. Andrew’s has helped bolster that in him, and provided him with the tools to wrestle with the really nettlesome problems that can conflict with true North.”
Although no stranger to nonprofit board work, particularly in the arts and humanities, education, and social justice spaces, Durham, a lawyer by training who spent four decades as an advisor and counsel— most recently as managing partner of Global Endowment Management, a money-management firm he cofounded in 2007—was still surprised when Head of School Joy McGrath ’92 approached him about serving the board as a parent trustee in 2022.
“My response was, ‘Lord, Joy, why on planet Earth would you want me on the board?’” he says, laughing. Her response resonated deeply. “She said, ‘I think you bring an interesting perspective because you’ve had a [former Head of School] Tad [Roach P’04,’07,’13,’18] experience with Leighton, and you will now have a ‘me’ experience with Grey, and having your voice at the table would be really useful.’ That was just about as compelling a request for board service as I’ve ever gotten because it makes sense.”
Although Durham holds fast to his “eternal verities” take on the school, he acknowledges change is critical to growth. “The operational things change, but the truths abide,” he says.
He credits McGrath with bringing “more process, more procedure, and more data-driven decision making.”
“If organizations are lucky, the right leadership comes to them at the moment of need,” he says. “Leadership is a variable, and it should be—times and people shift. Tad was extraordinary. He was like a scholar whisperer, a shaman to the students of that time. Joy brings great intellect, but along with it, real operational chops. She’s very thoughtful about every aspect of school operation. The school’s physical plant won’t last forever without careful preservation, for example. I think Joy
Trustee Trivia
A Quick Q&A with Porter Durham P’13,’25
ST. ANDREW’S IS ... proof that life’s eternal verities persist, even in the face of all harms.
THE GREATEST THING MY CHILDREN LEARNED AT ST. ANDREW’S WAS … how to “be” in community with others.
MY FELLOW SAS TRUSTEES WOULD BE SURPRISED TO KNOW THAT I AM … a “passable” music historian.
IF I COULD HAVE MY OWN SAS BOARDROOM WALK-IN SONG IT WOULD BE … “My kinda place, St. Andrews is … my kinda place …” (with apologies to Sinatra).
ON WEEKENDS I … garden, fish, walk in the woods, read the next thing in the stack.
THE MOST FASCINATING PERSON I EVER MET WAS … [Historian, author, and winner of the Presidential Medal of Freedom] Dr. John Hope Franklin. We became good friends; I treasure that.
THE GREATEST SONG EVER WRITTEN IS … “Sunday Morning Coming Down” by Kris Kristofferson (so many great songs; I think this one is particularly well crafted); “All Along the Watchtower” by Jimmy Hendrix; “Blowin’ in the Wind” by Bob Dylan.
THE LAST BOOK I READ WAS … Cross Purposes by Jonathan Rauch.
MY LEAST FAVORITE WORD IS … never/always. There are few absolutes.
THE BEST MEAL I EVER HAD WAS … soup and incredible cheese and bread at a Paris sidewalk café.
IN MY POCKET YOU’D FIND … a pocket knife and a money clip, when not confiscated by TSA.
ON THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE I … picked blueberries with my granddaughter on my farm on a crystal blue July 4th. Perfect. But truly, too many best days to count.
THE MOVIE LINE I ALWAYS QUOTE IS … from Bull Durham: “The world is made for those unencumbered by self-awareness.”
IF I WON THE LOTTERY I WOULD … properly endow SAS!
ALL HANDS ON DECK
Eden Appiah ’26 and Enid Appiah ’26 are part of a family affair
BY AK WHITE
to be an appiah is to live the “cho bwei” philosophy out loud.
“Cho bwei is a rallying cry in Ghana,” says Eden Appiah ’26. “It started as a fisherman’s proverb. Someone will yell, ‘Cho bwei,’ and the other villagers respond with, ‘Hey!’ And it means, ‘all hands on deck.’ Everyone has a responsibility to contribute.”
“Cho Bwei” is also the name of the foundation that Appiah; her twin sister, Enid Appiah ’26; and a host of cousins organized, with the help of all of their parents, while the twins were still in elementary school.
Via mission trips to Africa, Spain, and work right here at home in the U.S., Cho Bwei provides healthcare services to underserved communities.
“We didn’t just wake up one day and think, ‘We should do something like this,” says Enid. “Helping others is something that’s always been instilled in us and important to my family.”
The twins’ mother, Kathleen, along with her four sisters, were born in Ghana; when the sisters arrived in the U.S., Kathleen was 16. The twins, and all of their cousins, remain strongly tied to the birthplace of their mothers. One of the first mission trips Cho Bwei undertook, when the twins were still young, was to Saltpond, Ghana, their grandfather’s village. “That trip really drove home the idea that we do this as a family,” Enid says.
And this particular family is suited to serve. Three of the twins’ aunts are doctors—a dentist, a physical therapist, and a dermatologist. As for their mother, Kathleen, “She’s the bridge,” says Eden. “She’s amazing at getting people to like us, and negotiates between the villages, getting people to participate. She gets the kids to sing; she’s just the glue.”
The twins say their work with Cho Bwei has evolved since the foundation first came into existence. “We started out doing smaller things, like volunteering at homeless shelters [in the U.S.], organizing food drives, stuff like that,” Enid says. “But as the time went on, we decided to focus more on medical missions because of all the doctors in the family.”
Pre-trip, the twins help organize supplies for villagers, like “period packs” for teen girls, and dental hygiene and dermatology supplies for everyone. On the missions, the two lead clinics that educate teenage girls about menstrual health, as well as sessions on general dental and dermatological hygiene, take blood-pressure measurements, perform fingerpricks for blood tests, and more.
“I always laugh thinking about this one little boy we taught to properly brush his teeth who just looked like he was being tortured,” Eden says, laughing. “At first, when I would say it out loud, sometimes it’s like, ‘Oh, we’re explaining how to brush teeth and put on moisturizer and sunscreen or how to use menstrual products, it doesn’t feel that important. But it truly is. For example, in Ghana, close to the equator, they are in the sun all the time and don’t use sunscreen because they don’t understand it or have access to it. Some people have fungus on their faces, or skin cancers.”
They’ve had eye-opening experiences that have made them recognize the importance of giving back. Once, the van that
their foundation operates was chased down the street of a village by desperate people who wanted the packs of food they were distributing. “I watched an older man take a pack from a little boy that I had just given it to, and that really stuck with me,” Enid says. “There was a lot of turbulence and we just had to leave that area. It really makes us think about our own privilege. Seeing how happy people are to come to our clinics … it’s important to recognize what you have.”
Cho Bwei isn’t only impacting the way the twins hope to live their lives in service of others, it’s also identified a potential future path for Enid, who found herself fascinated by a bacterial illness called schistosomiasis. Schistosomiasis is a water-borne parasitic disease that comes from worms commonly found in snails; snails are heavily prevalent in the water sources of some of the villages they serve.
“A research foundation introduced this potential solution, in which prawns are introduced to the water supply, which eat the worms that cause schistosomiasis,” Enid says. “So not only would the prawns remove the worms, it would change the entire ecosystem and give the villages’ economies an extra boost because they could farm the prawns. I think it’s really interesting, and I would like to talk about it in the [SAS student] McLean Science Lecture Competition, and maybe pursue medicine.”
When Cho Bwei was in one of the villages with this epidemic, another medical group was there offering medication for the disease, and the twins, with the help of their Twi, a village dialect in Ghana, spent time talking with a teenage girl who rejected the medication. “We were trying to get her to understand, ‘This will help you,’ Eden says. “Part of the work of Cho Bwei is sometimes just helping people trust the help of others.”
In December 2024, the twins and the whole Cho Bwei family traveled to Ghana, where they ran clinics for thousands of people.
Back home at St. Andrew’s, the twins’ peers were doing what they could to raise money for the foundation.
“We worked with [last year’s] V Form Council to host a barbeque fundraiser,” Enid says. Talan [Esposito ’24] offered a “Tucked in by Tal” fundraiser, where any Founders resident could pay for a tuck in from their pal. “It’s just an incredible community,” Eden says. “We always feel so supported.”
Next up is doing good work for others at home during Spring Break.
“This kind of work will always be a part of our lives,” Enid says.” •
Something happened to Brandon Blake ’25 the first time he listened to legendary tenor saxophonist Sonny Rollins’ album Saxophone Colossus. He listened at the recommendation of Director of Instrumental Music Fred Geiersbach at a time when Blake wasn’t too sure about what his musical journey would look like.
Blake came into St. Andrew’s in 2021 with limited exposure to the saxophone, his instrument of choice, which he picked up in seventh grade due to required musical programming in his then-school in New York. “I was like, ‘Oh, okay, I guess sax, that seems cool,’” Blake says. Any progress he made was swiftly interrupted by the pandemic, and he entered St. Andrew’s not feeling particularly moved to engage with any instrument.
But then Rollins—and Geiersbach—helped upend it all.
“There’s this song, ‘St. Thomas,’ on that album that showed me something I hadn’t realized before, which is that culture and music are one,” he says. “The first time I listened to it, all I thought was, ‘This feels like home.’”
In the track, he heard the beats of his Caribbean upbringing—his family is Trinidadian—and was immediately transported to his home in Brooklyn, where every Sunday morning, Caribbean music would blast through the kitchen.
“I’ve always been surrounded by music,” Blake says. “But learning instrumental music at St. Andrew’s, and the history of a bunch of different types of music, particularly jazz, with its roots in slavery, African-American and African culture— and then hearing this song, with the Caribbean rhythms—it changed how I think about music. I heard all the different cultures, and understood how deep the music really is. I don’t feel too connected to my roots, but this music made me want to be a part of that world. Music became my bridge.”
It’s a bridge he’s been crossing with more and more confidence since his first year at St. Andrew’s.
“In Brandon’s first music class, he barely knew ten notes,” Geiersbach says. “I said, ‘We’ll use this semester to learn the entire range of the sax.’ By the end, he could play every note, and was starting to play with conviction. Now, he’s essentially my TA, and the other musicians are so impressed with him. It’s rare to have a fellow musician set such a professional example. What he has done over the course of his four years here has been singular.”
So singular, in fact, that when Blake made All-State Jazz Ensemble in 2023, he was the first St. Andrean to ever do so. And the saxophonist who just a few years ago couldn’t string together ten notes is headed to Johns Hopkins University’s Peabody Institute, a conservatory for music and dance. “I still can’t believe it,” Blake says.
Geiersbach can. He says he watched Blake do what those who get exceedingly good at something do: work his youknow-what off.
“It’s rare to have a student like Brandon, who is mostly self-taught, who not only works incredibly hard and is a great instrumentalist but also is a high school kid who cares about jazz,” Geiersbach says. “Kids don’t listen to jazz anymore. I’ve seen kids who like to play it, but know nothing about the art form. But Brandon always wants to talk about the greats. He doesn’t just practice the instrument, he studies the music. Jazz is a received tradition, oral knowledge, a serious art form. It’s passed down. And to play it is a serious exercise of humility.
He’s 17, but he’s 40 years old in the music, the spirituality. He has elevated everyone.”
If you ask Blake, he’ll tell you the music elevated him, too. He says he’s a “better human.” He sees himself as more creative, more empathetic, more confident.
“I feel like I’ve become more compassionate, and I’ve started thinking about other people more,” he says. “Jazz has been a meditation for me. I found a connection to religion. Freshman and sophomore year, I couldn’t really understand that. I knew there was something going on that was more than music, but I didn’t know what.”
That “something” became palpable in a Chapel performance his junior year, when Blake challenged himself to play a John Coltrane song written in a difficult key. “It’s a key that no one would think to play it in, but I was like, ‘You know what?’ I’m going to teach this to myself,’” he says, and added the Coltrane selection to his daily self-enforced four-hour practice sessions. “Once I got control over it, I loved poring over it,” he says. “If I commit to something, I don’t want to be mediocre.”
Once he began his solo in Chapel, he couldn’t help but become emotional. “I was crying,” Blake says. “After, a few people told me, ‘Man. That hit me.’ And that is what jazz has become to me—and why I want to be a part of it, because it’s so much bigger than music—it makes you feel something. To be able to affect people like that … it’s a powerful thing that shouldn’t be wasted.”
Blake says in addition to immense support from his parents, it “took a Mr. Geiersbach” to help get him where he is—and where he’s going.
“I used to be afraid to solo,” Blake says. “But Mr. Geiersbach, he’d also say, ‘You’re never more than half a step away.’ The note is right there in front of you, and even if you play it wrong, no one will really notice. He helped me take more risks because I know I’m always just a half step away. This school is a place where if you take the leap and fail, who cares? Just leap again. You don’t know what you’ll end up loving until you try.”
Right now, Blake is enjoying the remainder of his senior year at St. Andrew’s, continuing to delve into and teach himself music theory, as well as how to arrange for other instruments, like the trumpet, before he’ll head to Johns Hopkins to study music at Peabody as well as political science on the academic side. He had to tap into that half-step mentality during his audition.
“I could hear other people in the practice rooms,” Blake says. “And there was another saxophonist next to me and I was like, ‘Man. He’s a lot better than I am right now,’” Blake says, laughing. “But I didn’t let it affect the way I auditioned, which is something I’ve developed. A few years ago, I’d have been so caught up in the idea of someone being so much better than me. But that day, I acknowledged that this person was more skilled, more talented, and maybe had more experience, but I got into the [audition] room, too. I took risks, I gained confidence, and I’m here.” •
BREAKING: Americans Love Stinky Cheese
French Instructor Max Shrem flew all the way to France to deliver this important message
It’s not every day a passion for cheese sends you transatlantic and into the hallowed halls of the French National Assembly, but that’s precisely what happened to French instructor Max Shrem. In March, Shrem traveled from Middletown to Paris to deliver a talk to French politicians, including former Prime Minister Gabriel Attal, farmers, cheesemakers, journalists, food historians, podcasters, and citizens gathered at the Palais Bourbon, a mansion originally built in 1722 for Louise Françoise de Bourbon, a daughter of King Louie XIV, that now hosts the lower legislative chamber of the French Parliament. The soiree was the centennial commemoration of the globally famous French blue cheese Roquefort receiving its Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) designation in 1925—a landmark occasion for all cheese-kind, in which Roquefort’s heritage and production was officially legally protected.
“The AOC designation was a pivotal moment in food history,” Shrem says. “It legally protected Roquefort, stipulating that it could only be produced in specific caves in a particular region of France using milk from a specific breed of sheep. This law, the first of its kind for cheese, set a precedent for protecting culinary heritage, a concept that has since been adopted for countless other products, like Champagne, for example.”
So what was Shrem doing there? He was cordially invited as the sole American to offer a talk. “In a weird way, I felt like I was doing some kind of diplomacy,” Shrem says. He wasn’t just plucked because he’s the kind of guy who likes a good cheese plate at book club—pre-St. Andrew’s, Shrem worked in the artisanal cheese industry.
Fresh out of college in 2006, armed with a French degree but a burning passion for fromage, Shrem landed a job with cheese importer and retailer Formaggio Kitchen in Massachusetts. “I feel very lucky,” Shrem says of a chance interaction he had with Joe Moskowitz, a well-known importer and distributor of specialty foods who died in March 2024. Shrem met him while working at a Whole Foods in New York one summer. The two bonded over cheese, and Shrem spent time with Moskowitz and his wife learning all he could about the cheese industry. Impressed with Shrem, Moskowitz put him in touch with Ihsan Gurdal, the owner of Formaggio who would become Shrem’s mentor. After his work in Massachusetts, it
didn’t take long for Gurdal to tap Shrem to open Formaggio Kitchen’s flagship New York City location.
This wasn’t just a job; it was an immersion. Shrem found himself not only selling exquisite cheeses but also wholesaling to the demanding palates of New York’s top chefs. “It felt like one of the most exciting periods of my life,” he says. He particularly loved holding court with restaurant staff before dinner service, explaining the nuances of the different cheese on the menu.
Even as he pursued a Ph.D in French literature, Shrem couldn’t shake his connection to the cheese world. He penned a cheese column, aptly named “Cheese Course,” for a food blog, which led to a whirlwind of interviews with American cheesemakers. Simultaneously, his Francophile heart drew him back to France, where he spent five years interning at a Parisian cheese shop during university holiday breaks. “They called me the ‘American mascot of Christmas,’” he says, laughing. While in Paris, he contributed to the Oxford Companion to Cheese and continued to dabble in food journalism, solidifying his reputation as a knowledgeable voice in the field.
Shrem’s unique blend of academic rigor and hands-on cheese expertise caught the attention of Sylvie Vabre, a French food historian who organized the centennial. Intrigued by Shrem’s background and academic work in food history and food journalism, she extended an invitation that would take him back to France in a way he never imagined.
“I was petrified,” he admits, recalling the impressive lineup of speakers before him that included international ambassadors and prestigious cheesemakers. He was particularly in awe of catching Sébastien Bras in the flesh—the globally acclaimed chef is at the center of a documentary that Shrem’s French students at St. Andrew’s watched and discussed this semester.
Shrem’s presentation, “Myths of the American Palette,” aimed to debunk the stereotype that Americans don’t appreciate strong cheeses. He argued that Roquefort, with its rich history and distinctive character, has been a significant point of departure for American cheesemakers, which has inspired a new generation of artisanal cheesemakers to create unique, high-quality blue cheeses, some of which are even finding their way onto cheese boards in Paris and London. “We’ve really come full circle,” he says. “It would have been
unthinkable in 1925, when Roquefort got its AOC status, that there would be American blue cheese sold in cheese shops in Paris and London.”
Shrem says the experience was deeply impactful. The presentation was well-received, with attendees expressing appreciation for an American perspective. “I kind of felt like the representative of the American conscience,” he says. “Perhaps nobody understands the significance of leaving home to gain new perspectives better than our own students. They remind us of this simple but powerful truth: ‘How can you learn all there is to learn if you stay in the same place for so long?’ This idea was particularly evident during my time at the National Assembly in Paris. As I engaged with professionals across different sectors of French society, it struck me just how much cultural exchange and collaboration shape our understanding of the world. Representing the U.S. in this space—at a moment when political tensions between our two countries feel charged—reinforced the importance of stepping outside our own borders to truly learn, grow, and make meaningful connections,” he says.
Back at St. Andrew’s, Shrem is eager to bring his Parisian experience into the classroom. Currently teaching a spring tutorial called “From Gourmands to Foodies: Tracing the
Origins of Gastronomy in 18th-Century France,” Shrem says he’s folding his experience of speaking at the Assembly into the coursework. “A lot of what we’ll be discussing and reading— including my favorite book, food memoir The Gastronomical Me by M.F.K. Fisher—has to do with the same issues at the heart of the centennial celebration: food as an indicative of national identity, food as diplomacy, food as cultural history.” (And yes, he did bring some Roquefort home. Ever the St. Andrean, he shared it with anyone who wanted to try some.)
One of the earliest menus to feature Roquefort in the U.S., which Shrem found in his research.
Shrem with French politician Stéphane Mazars.
Shrem delivers his talk, alongside food historian Sylvie Vabre; food critic and podcaster François-Régis Gaudry; chef to four French presidents Guillaume Gomez; and French politician Jean-François Rousset.
The star of the show.
OFFICE SPACE
Melissa Cunniffe’s “Love Bubble”
New mental health counselor Melissa Cunniffe loves to serve kids and build community
The first time mental health counselor Melissa Cunniffe arrived at St. Andrew’s, it was to visit the school’s newly hired lacrosse head coach—and her husband—Chris Bates. “I remember saying to him, ‘What is going on? All these kids keep saying ‘hi’ to me,’” she says, laughing. “He said, ‘Oh, yeah. They just do that here.’” After a vacancy opened in the wellness department, Cunniffe joined the St. Andrew’s family in December 2024. “I feel like I’m living in a love-bubble,” she says. “Everyone is so welcoming, friendly, so helpful. I met kids on day one who I feel like I’ve known for years. They will pop in just to say, ‘Hi, Ms. Cunniffe. I haven’t seen you lately. I miss you.’” Although she’s only been at the school a few months, you’ll find her everywhere: basketball games, the Dining Hall, School Meeting, weekend activities, and more. “I want to be seen, to normalize myself in all the spaces in our community,” she says. Speaking of community, “My cup is overflowing,” says Cunniffe. “My main driving goal, other than serving kids, is community. So I can’t tell you how good it feels to be here.”
Take a spin around her office through the items that mean the most to her.
01 SALT MARSH PAINTING A painting of one of the Cunniffe/Bates family’s favorite places to unwind in South Carolina.
02 DESK POSITION “If any kids, faculty, or staff walk by, we can make eye contact. I want people to see me, and to feel welcome in this space,” she says.
03 NEWTON’S CRADLE Cunniffe uses the device to demonstrate to patients that the more energy they put into therapy, the more they get out of it.
04 KNITTING YARN AND NEEDLES “Sometimes kids just need something to do with their hands,” Cunniffe says. “Students are welcome to pick up the knitting during a session; my goal is maybe the project will eventually grow right out the door from all the knitters involved.”
05 COLOR FIELD PRINT An artifact from Cunniffe’s previous life in fine art. “I had the privilege to work with [color field artist] Helen Frankenthaler,” she says. “This is not an original, but it is representative of color field. I think it brings brightness, calm, and hope.”
06 & 07 STATE OF MIND AND WAKE FOREST PRINTS
Flanking the door to her office, the black-and-white etching from daughter, Eliza, and photograph of alma mater Wake Forest, from Bates, are gifts that Cunniffe says helped her “ … manifest a space. I didn’t have this job yet, and they each said, in different ways, ‘This will be for your future office.’”
08 FAMILY PHOTO “My entire life is in that photo,” Cunniffe says of her blended family of five.
09 TEDDY BEAR A gift from a previous patient. “This was a gift I received at the end of a beautiful therapeutic relationship I developed with the child of undocumented
parents,” Cunniffe says. “I keep that there to remind me of that particular experience and the plight of so many people right now.”
10 BOOK COLLECTION A curated selection of books. “I’ve had students while they’re sitting there, make a connection with a book title. And then I’m just like, here, borrow the book,” she says. “A lot of these books are references to cultural competence. To be a good therapist, you have to understand that people are coming to the table with varied lived experiences, different faiths, races, cultures. You cannot meet a client with a Eurocentric white perspective.”
11 DOLL HOUSE A form of play therapy for students. “Although students at SAS are older, there is room for recall and remembrances through the use of a dollhouse,” Cunniffe says. “For instance, a student who grew up with housing insecurity may find comfort in imagining life within a home or may process childhood fears and emotions as they experience the dollhouse. … The dollhouse is also a nice way to build rapport with students who are coming to counseling for the first time, in that they can take it off the shelf and just set it up as we begin the session.” •
student who shuts their textbook to pick up a paintbrush is still a student. When they wash off their paintbrushes and head to the tennis courts they don’t transform from artist to athlete. This is true of any student, anywhere— but at St. Andrew’s, the lines between archetypal roles like “scholar,” “artist,” and “athlete” are blurred on purpose: Who can Saints be if they rise above titles?
When students first meet photography and printmaking instructor Joshua Meier P’24,’28, they typically see him as “just” an arts teacher, not knowing he’s also an avid cyclist. Students may not realize, either, that Director of Athletics Neil Cunningham had a role in the 2024 winter play. Similarly, at first, students might not think of themselves as “an artist” or “an athlete,” but often see themselves and others in a new light by commencement.
“You’re always trying to help students see everyone as multidimensional beings,” Meier says. “It’s really more about a mindset, and how you approach life. I think when you’re talking about kids, trying to get their heads around that, and what that does for them when they go out into the world, it can translate in so many ways.”
Meier recommends Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act to colleagues and students alike; the book posits that a creative act is any action that puts something into the world that wasn’t there before, be it hitting a resplendent high note at Service of Lessons & Carols or gobbling up a scorching line drive on the SAS diamond.
“If you view your life as this creative thing, and every day you have this chance to approach your job, your hobbies, your relationships, all of it, as an act of creation, it just opens up so many possibilities,” Meier says.
To Meier, well-rounded passions and a creativity-oriented mindset help students navigate the ebbs and flows of life. No
matter where students build resilience, creativity helps them apply it.
“When it comes to how we occupy our time, you’re not always going to have that same level of passion, desire, or ability to do that one thing,” he says. “I think for young people who are trying really hard to find their identity and hold onto it, it’s important to ask, ‘What would happen if I didn’t have that thing?’ If you see your whole life as an act of creation and you say, ‘That is the basis of me,’ how can you channel your creative force into different parts of your life?”
A particularly useful mindset considering those blurred lines at St. Andrew’s, where, often, student-artists and student-athletes are one and the same.
Just like discipline, curiosity, and resilience can be honed across arts, the same can be said for sports, says Cunningham, who views athletics as an act that provides another outlet for students’ freedom of expression and movement.
“You’re working for a season to maybe get to playoffs, you’re working on rehearsals to go perform in the play. You are working every day on an art project, maybe for a gallery show. No matter what, you’re working toward a goal,” Cunningham says. “There’s no quick A-to-Z, there are steps in between that you have to take, and they’re not always smooth steps.”
Cunningham says he and his colleagues have to support all the steps Saints artists and athletes take in equal measure, taking time to applaud an orchestra performance or cheer on a soccer match. The adults of St. Andrew’s also help students balance coursework, clubs, and community service on top of arts and athletics.
No matter how much support they receive, ultimately, it’s up to students to finetune their multidimensionality. We spoke with nine SAS seniors about the challenges and rewards of that balance, how they channel creative force across activities, and what they’ve learned along the way.
LEARNINGSOMETHINGFROMEVERYTHING
Before St. Andrew’s, Ember Theeke ’25 always got ready for school to the soundtrack of her father’s record collection.
“I grew up listening to older stuff, so coming here and having classmates who like a huge range of music has diversified my tastes,” she says. “But my absolute favorite album is The Stranger by Billy Joel.”
Theeke was no stranger to charcoal drawing when she recreated Joel’s album artwork for a project sophomore year. She has always loved putting charcoal to paper but before high school, her focus was largely set elsewhere.
“Before St. Andrew’s, I would say sports was actually a much bigger part of my life than art,” Theeke says.
Freshman year, an injury caused Theeke to switch from crew to theater—an act that held unexpected silver linings. She bonded with her castmates and overcame lifelong stage fright.
This winter, Theeke played the scheming queen in Once Upon a Mattress. With three previous productions under her belt, getting into character is less an escape from stage fright or self-consciousness for Theeke and more an opportunity to learn about herself through her role.
Entering her senior spring, Theeke is a visual arts major, having expanded her longtime love of sketching into deeper study. Although she always has a charcoal work in progress, Theeke’s classes have helped her grow.
“We do a lot more independent projects rather than being taught a specific medium,” she says. “We’re more told to explore whatever feels right for the vibe or visual texture of the piece we’re going for, so I’ve tried out gouache, and I’m doing watercolor right now.”
Given freedom to explore, Theeke will take it and run— often down the pitch as a varsity field hockey player who earned First Team All-Conference nods while at SAS. In spring 2024, Theeke played midfield on the girls soccer team that finished fourth in the DIAA state tournament.
Between her own varied pursuits, Theeke hasn’t just learned more about herself and her own capabilities, she has also grown by witnessing and celebrating her peers’ talents.
“I’ve picked something up from almost every single person at school. Whether it’s some tradition that someone has taught me from their family, or a day-to-day thing like, ‘I would never have been introduced to this song before,’” she says. “And it’s so special to see all the students that I’m an art major with come together and do what we all love. And then as soon as we leave that room, we’re still supporting each other, but
we’re going off and doing our own things, whether that’s playing volleyball, or writing poetry, or being an amazing soccer player.”
EMBER THEEKE First Team
Team MVP
Art Major
ARTISTICROOTSFEDBYNOXONTOWNPOND
Katherine Meers ’25, was visiting St. Andrew’s with her father, Michael Meers ’86, when campus scenery sparked her passion for painting.
“They used to have a rope swing down by the pond, and I remember coming here as a kid and seeing that and thinking it
was so beautiful,” Meers says. “So my first painting, I painted myself sitting on the swing, overlooking the pond.”
A lifelong soccer player, Meers made the varsity soccer team her freshman year. This spring, she’ll return to the field with her teammates, drawing on the momentum of last year’s magical season for girls soccer, which saw the team set school records and host state tournament playoff games at home for the first time in program history. That energy has already carried her through this year’s field hockey and basketball seasons, she says.
“I think keeping that momentum going as a team, and progressing individually as players, is about confidence,” she says. “The biggest keys to success, to me, are staying in shape and being confident, and being willing to take risks and make moves.”
Risk-taking also helps Meers in the studio with her fellow art majors. Although painting is technically a solo effort, the art studio is social, with students sharing music or conversation while they work. That camaraderie makes Meers feel even as an artist, she’s part of a team.
Meers says that in the studio, just like in athletics, she is driven by seeing her friends’ efforts. Art majors exchange feedback, including formal critiques; receiving them comes naturally to this athlete.
“I think being coachable contributes to being able to take feedback and learn from it without taking it personally,” she says. “In academics, art, or sports, it all connects. A lot of who I am is tied to sports, and I feel like what we learn within sports, resilience and determination and being passionate about something, is all interconnected.”
LEADINGFROMTHESIDELINESANDTHESTAGE
In between football and baseball, Ray Quinones ’25 leaves his winter schedule open to try something new. This year, he took the stage as Once Upon a Mattress’ Prince Dauntless, fulfilling a promise he made freshman year.
During his first-ever theater class, Quinones was bitten by the acting bug. The freedom of playing a character helped Quinones shed some self-consciousness. That’s when he promised Arts Department Chair Ann Taylor ’86 he’d perform in a musical before graduation.
In learning to perform, Quinones has realized that a mistaken line can always be repeated until you get it right, and that it’s better to bounce back than give himself a hard time. This resilience goes hand-in-hand with the adaptability he’s arrived at thanks to athletic successes and setbacks.
Over many athletic seasons, Quinones learned how to boost morale and hype up his team. After injuries sidelined him during football this year, Quinones stayed involved by helping III Form players acclimate to the team and learn their plays.
He took that same leadership energy to the stage for musical rehearsals, where he wasn’t afraid to call plays to help the ensemble succeed.
“I think we had really good people for their roles in the musical this year, but we didn’t always have someone saying, ‘We have to learn something new, but we’ll get this,’” he says. “When we have to redo things, a lot of people get disappointed like, ‘We did this wrong.’ I’m like, ‘It’s not wrong, but we can always get better. Let’s do it again and make it what we want.’”
Quinones and his baseball teammates are hoping for a winning season this spring, which would be the first in the senior’s time at St. Andrew’s. With the resilience he has built in theater, Quinones feels prepared to exit stage left and head for the diamond.
“My mindset going into this spring [is] mistakes are expected,” he says. “Learning how to deal with setbacks is important, and I think the winter [musical] prepared me for that really well.”
LEARNINGTOBALANCEMANYPASSIONS
Gloria Oladejo ’25 understands the importance of having people cheering you on. Not only is she a member of a supportive, school-record-holding 4x200 meter indoor track relay team, she’s also got a family that has her back.
“My family, my parents especially, have always been the people to say, ‘If you want to do something, then just do it. Don’t let anyone stop you,’” she says. “They have not only encouraged me to go for what I want, but also helped me explore those different parts of myself.”
A longtime tennis player, Oladejo joined the tennis team as a new sophomore and took up indoor track. Oladejo keeps her feet moving in studio dance and with the Saints Steppers, the school’s step team. She’s also the editor of The Andrean, the school’s literary magazine. Hitting her stride with pen to paper brings the same benefit as sprinting down the track or falling into rhythm with other dancers: a feeling of contentment and peace.
“At my old school, I did dance and track outside of school and didn’t feel as comfortable being open with my interests,”
she says. “St. Andrew’s has been the place where I’ve just been like, ‘There’s no way I could do everything I want to,’ and they’re like, ‘Yes, you can do anything you want.’ Going from step, to the classroom, to track practice has been really rewarding.”
Oladejo says she has benefited not only from her own freedom to explore her varied interests, but also her classmates’ freedom to follow their passions.
“Sometimes when I hear the different activities people do, I’m like, ‘I never thought you’d do that. I see you around and know you’re a really nice person, and now I find out you’re this piano machine—that’s crazy!’” she says. “But at the beginning of high school, I never would’ve thought of myself as a varsity athlete, and now I don’t see myself without athletics.”
GLORIA OLADEJO
FLEXIBLEANDFASTONYOURFEET
There’s something to be said about what you can learn from an activity you least expected to join. For Madeleine Lasell ’25, those lessons come from wrestling.
“It’s a fighting sport, and you learn when you’re four or five minutes into a match how to find the very last bit of energy you have,” Lasell says. “You need to be able to think on your feet as well.”
You also have to have grit. Head wrestling coach Phil Davis recently said of Lasell, as she clawed her way to a weight-class championship at the Lady Cougar Invitational this winter, that she “buzz-sawed through her opponents.”
After her first season of wrestling, Lasell could transfer skills from the mat to crew and volleyball. Oars in hand, Lasell could dig deep and find a reservoir of almost-hidden
energy and grind out a finish—a grind that has awarded her a chance to row next year at Williams. Both of these fueled the perseverance Lasell picked up playing volleyball.
“One of the things I’ve learned playing volleyball that has definitely translated to the classroom, and arts, is learning how to mess up and learn from that without being super frustrated at yourself,” Lasell says. “You learn to have an attitude where it’s like, ‘Okay, maybe this week is a bad week academically, but next week I’m still going to try my best.’ You can accept the mistakes you make and learn from them.”
Using mistakes as an opportunity to grow takes that fast-on-your-feet thinking Lasell attributes to wrestling. The experimentation seen there, and in dance, her chosen art, helps as well.
Lasell has always known dance to be both art and a sport, and flexibility from years in the studio has made her harder
for opponents to pin. The activities overlap, too, in their use of movement: wrestling in a combative way, dance in both artistic and technical ways.
“There is so much about arts and sports that is different, but that same perseverance, being able to create, is similar,” Lasell says. “In the arts, you might create something that you enjoy or you’re trying to work toward some sort of image you have in your head. With sports, maybe you’re trying to reach a specific 2K time or win a race with the other members of your boat.”
FINDINGDIFFERENTKINDSOFOUTLETS
For Leah Horgan ’25, one of the school’s elite runners who will lead the pack for Davidson College next year, the beauty of competitive running or senior arts major courses are all in the details.
“I fell in love with learning different artistic techniques, and after seeing how, if you look at the beginning of the semester and at the end for the intro classes, it’s incredible,” Horgan says. “I hadn’t really drawn anything before [my first freshman] class, and by the end of the semester, I’d produced this big piece and it was so rewarding.”
Horgan started out in charcoal, delighting in blending the results she wanted from the harsh lines she’d start from. She then began experimenting with watercolor.
The focus, peace, and satisfaction Horgan feels with a charcoal stick or paintbrush in hand is something she’d previously found only by running. Raised in a family of runners, she learned early how to pace herself and find calm in the repetitive motion of her sport.
A winter indoor track captain who earned a place at this year’s New Balance National Invitational in Boston, Horgan also runs cross-country, and was instrumental to the team’s 2023 state title win. In the spring, you can find her in soccer cleats instead of running shoes.
“[Athletics] is an outlet every single day, no matter what is going on in classes or socially or anything, because from four to six o’clock, your focus is purely on practice, on the team,” Horgan says. “As a runner, you go in and you see results from every detail. Like with drawing, every little detail just adds into this bigger final product. It’s all about what’s made me feel better, what’s made me feel happier, as a student here.”
TAPPINGINTOCREATIVITYYOUDIDN’TKNOW WASTHERE
For varsity football and lacrosse player Spencer Fairbanks ’25, lifelong participation in sports helped him lay the groundwork for success not only as an athlete, but also as an artist.
Fairbanks was nervous heading into his first athletic seasons at St. Andrew’s, knowing that at a smaller school, he’d have more opportunities to take the field as well as the responsibility that comes with that.
“It’s kind of a double-edged sword,” he says. “That can be scary as a sophomore to have a senior that you really look up to saying, ‘Look, I need you to do your part. I trust you and I think you’ll do well.’ It’s scary, but at the same time, it’s rewarding.”
As Fairbanks gained more responsibility as a starting varsity athlete, the then-sophomore also took his first photography course, stepping out of his comfort zone. Although photography was new to Fairbanks, it seemed like a better fit than other artistic pursuits he considered, and he liked the idea of taking an idea from concept to reality.
Fairbanks’ favorite project was fueled by a kind of playful team spirit. It started with beautiful weather, a Free Day, and a couch.
“Everyone was out on the Front Lawn and I said to my roommates, ‘Why don’t we bring the couch outside and take pictures?’” Fairbanks says.
It sounded funny, but as Fairbanks worked to make each shot dynamic, he was doing all of the things he loved about photography: taking an idea and trying to use style and technique to convey to others what it meant to him.
Not only was the project fun, but it ended with a result Fairbanks was proud of—one that made him rethink whether he had a talent for art.
“I’d photographed people that I knew and was very close with, and that’s what really sparked something in me,” he says. “I felt like, ‘Wow, this isn’t just a class I’m taking. This is something I’m really interested in.’”
Behind the camera and on the field, Fairbanks can see how he’s grown.
“I look back at one of my first projects and I’m like, ‘This is terrible,’” he says, laughing. “I didn’t know how to use the camera and my pictures weren’t that creative. I’m proud of my growth, because I’m trying to push myself. It’s just like in sports: if you just stay in your comfort zone, you’re never going to run.”
SPENCER
MUSICANDCOMMUNITY
Daisy Wang ’25 is used to finding her part to contribute, whether she’s on the volleyball court or playing clarinet in the All-State Senior Band. She brings her musical talents to St. Andrew’s in the orchestra and musical theatre pit bands, as well as the Chamber Music Guild.
Wang first learned to love chamber music under less than ideal circumstances: continuing to develop as an individual and whole-ensemble musician during COVID-19. Although she could only play music with others with the help of sectionblending apps, Wang found a passion for chamber music, particularly how it felt to actually play in-person.
“I really enjoyed playing with a bigger group,” she says. “With chamber music, unlike when you’re in an orchestra or a wind ensemble, you can hear yourself work more clearly. I enjoy the different arrangement of instruments and how their sounds fit together.”
A mix of students and St. Andrew’s adults have made up the Chamber Music Guild since its founding, and the group plays together on campus as well as at local senior centers. As guild musicians have graduated and new members have joined, Wang and others have adapted, learning duet and trio arrangements in addition to their repertoire of largegroup pieces.
The group has also embraced collaboration and synergy with other pockets of the arts department. One of Wang’s favorite St. Andrew’s memories is working on Swan Lake, providing melodies in the Engelhard Hall balcony while the dancers leapt and pirouetted below.
Whether she’s coordinating the placement of an electric piano and symphony drum set in a balcony, reaching harmony with other musicians, or setting up the perfect spike on the volleyball court, Wang knows communication is key.
“When you’re playing an instrument with other people, music is the language you’re using to communicate,” she says. “In sports, especially in my experience with volleyball, movement is a more important part of the language, how you move as one team. The way we come together into a whole unit after every point is very special.”
MULTIPLEWAYSTOEXPRESSYOURSELF
Elijah Proctor-Moore ’25 has a natural curiosity and eagerness to try new things, a drive that serves him well from the O’Brien Arts Center to Sipprelle Field House.
Purely a basketball and football player early on, ProctorMoore pivoted to soccer and tennis at SAS. In basketball, which he’ll play in college at Wesleyan, Proctor-Moore scored over 50 points during the regular season and helped send his team to the DIAA state tournament.
Playing a wide range of sports was eye-opening for ProctorMoore.
“It was really weird, but it helps a lot with other things,” he says. “It makes you notice how fun sports are when there’s a different kind of commitment. Basketball helped me get to college. Having that type of pressure on you and taking that off to play another sport, it makes the game so much more fun.”
ELIJAH PROCTOR-MOORE
While Proctor-Moore, a photography major, takes his arts studies seriously, these too can be fun. He first picked up a camera in a filmmaking class, which he chose in pursuit of a space to find calm and creativity.
Although setting up a shot requires vision, and a drive to communicate it, editing is what most captured ProctorMoore’s imagination.
“I started getting into editing more, and into still photography, because I liked being able to have a stopped frame and time,” he says. “I choose subjects to photograph based on what I like, putting that up and trying to tell a complete story.”
His current work-in-progress, the final for his photography major, reflects a spirit of joy and playfulness: placing Legos and other figurines around campus, trying to blend the toys visually into the real-world spaces they represent.
If the arts have allowed Proctor-Moore to explore his perspective, then athletics have helped him expand it.
“When [SAS] encourage[s] you to play three sports, it makes you try new things and talk to different people,” Proctor-Moore says. “In tennis my sophomore year, I met teammates who were also heavily involved in art. It makes you say, ‘Okay, if this person can do a range of stuff, why can’t I?’” J
Ask any Saint to point to a specific moment during their time at St. Andrew’s that stands out the most, and you’re likely to hear something akin to, “One moment? Impossible.”
And who can blame them? There’s simply too many wonderfully weird, beautiful, transformative, core-memoryloading moments to choose from, be it careening down a hill on a sled with friends, leaping off the T-dock, gathering on the sidelines to collectively go nuts for Saints athletics, nailing your Senior Exhibition, stealing the stage in winter musical, or even quietly reflecting in Chapel after a particularly challenging day.
But we think we’ve found one such moment for Liam Robinson ’26.
Picture this: It’s a Saturday in mid-April, on one of the first gorgeous spring evenings of 2024, and the whole school is gathered on the Front Lawn. The sun is melting pinks and golds onto Noxontown Pond, SAS grill master Gabe MillerRamírez ’26 is doing his thing with the burgers, music is pumping, and Robinson is riding high on a rowdy mechanical bull in the center of it all.
“That was such a fun weekend,” Robinson says, laughing. “I can’t believe Mrs. Honsel went for that.”
The “that” in question was the mechanical bull itself, an idea Robinson dreamed up his sophomore year during a time when he was really into watching professional bull-riding. “I was like, ‘We should get a real bull on campus,’ but clearly there’s no way that would happen,” he says. “So I pitched the idea of a mechanical bull. I give Mrs. Honsel a lot of ideas for weekends, this is one that we could make happen.”
This student-led approach to weekends at St. Andrew’s is something Director of Student Life Kristin Honsel P’24 particularly likes about her job. It’s also why she was so excited—ecstatic, even—over an email Richard Zhu ’26 sent to fellow students in late January 2025. In it, Zhu invited Saints to meet him in the O’Brien Arts Center at 7:00 p.m. on a weekend night to play a massive game of hide and seek, “ … like we did in the fall and many times before,” he wrote, adding an emphatic “Let’s goooooo!”
Why is Honsel so delighted by this note? “It’s another example of kids being kids,” she says. “The kids come up with fun, creative things in ways I can’t, and, sometimes, in ways that don’t require a budget. The kids know what kids want to do, they get creative,
and they do it. When students lead the charge, more kids buy in.”
Many a beautiful thing has been born of Saints downtime.
Consider the St. Andrew’s Indoor Soccer League—aka SAISL—an idea cooked up one cold winter’s night in 1990 by Ruben Amarasingham ’91 and Garen Topalian ’91 to get hearts pounding and school spirit pumping. Ever since, generations of Saints have fought for what Leo Teti ’26 terms “eternal glory” in the SAISL tournament.
Read through any issue of The Story of Us, the annual publication that serves as a love letter to the departing senior class written by the departing senior class. In this book, students have the opportunity to talk about those people, places, and experiences that meant the most to them at St. Andrew’s. Many memories echo that of Finn O’Connell ’24, who wrote of unplanned time on campus, “I love going out on a clear Friday night and stargazing. I love the feeling of finding weird old junk in a ditch in the woods. I love the feeling of heading down to the grass dock on a lazy Sunday
afternoon with friends and lying on the grass. I love playing games in the library. Just taking the time to make the most of all the places and all the people that there are to appreciate is the best part of St. Andrew’s.”
Even a mechanical bull on the Front Lawn fits the bill. These are the kind of moments that make Saints Saints. “When these kids have free time, they build something that brings them together,” Honsel says. “I want them to have moments where they have to figure out ways to entertain themselves.”
Of course, as director of student life, entertaining students is part of Honsel’s job in her role overseeing weekend activity planning. “We don’t want to be a ‘suitcase school,’” she says, noting that she hears from peer boarding schools that their student body packs up and leaves for the weekend. “For us, it all comes down to community. Weekend planning is critical in that we are 100 percent boarding, and we want our kids to stay on the weekends because it’s fun, and so that they can continue the kind of community-building they do every day.”
Weekends at St. Andrew’s have evolved in the wake of Honsel’s switch from work in St. Andrew’s admissions office to student life. One significant change came when SWAG— the Student Weekend Activity Group—was phased out in
favor of Form Council, which consists of six students per form.
“SWAG was elected positions for seniors, juniors, sophomores, and freshmen,” Honsel says. “And there were six class. The entire group met every week to plan, which was a lot of people, and a lot of voices, in one space.”
Honsel noticed how the upper formers dominated the conversation, and thus the weekend plans. She also noticed there was no “off” time for SWAG. “They felt responsibility for entertaining everyone, all the time,” she says. “I realized, ‘Okay. This system isn’t going to work.’” So she changed the work of Form Council to include SWAG responsibilities. “These are still elected positions, but on a form basis,” she says.
She also designed a senior Form Council; under the SWAG model, it was mostly the co-presidents who did the heavy lifting for most of the big traditional weekends. “The co-presidents needed more support,” she says.
Under the new Form Council system, all students involved in weekend planning aren’t on all the time; the weekends are clearly designated in terms of which form hosts which weekend for the school year. Certain forms own specific St. Andrew’s traditions: the IV Form hosts semiformal, the V Form runs the spring outdoor classic Maui Waui, the VI Form runs the Haunted Trail and prom. Also of note are those weekends when affinity groups like Essence and Onyx host an all-community event, like the Black History Month dance.
“I think the best thing that’s come in this shift is that each class is taking more ownership,” Honsel says. “There are more people feeling responsible for it. Before it was like, ‘You were elected to SWAG, entertain me.’ We still fight that a little bit, but it’s much different than it used to be. Now entire forms pitch in for set up, execution, and clean up.”
Robinson, along with Claire Hulsey ’26, are two of the elected members of V Form Council. Robinson, who considers himself a “pretty competitive person,” ran for Form Council because he hoped he could help his grade be all-in. “A grade’s form council is generally good representation of that grade,” he says. “So to have a strong and active form council means that your grade is the same way. I’m competitive in that sense, and I want our grade to give a lot to the school. It’s
easier to help coordinate that in a position like council.”
Hulsey realized as a freshman how curious she was about how weekends worked at SAS. “My first year, it was hard for me to see everything that was involved in getting a weekend together,” she says. “So initially I ran for council out of curiosity. The reason I stayed was because it felt like it brought me closer to my grade. If I was working for other people, then it gave me more motivation to work harder and try more things. To know they voted for me gave me motivation to think outside the box and bring fun things to school.”
The thinking-outside-of-the-box mentality is what brought the mechanical bull—the centerpiece of a new kind of Front Lawn party that the V Form leaders hope becomes tradition—to St. Andrew’s. “We had a weekend that was open for ideas, so we had to be creative,” Robinson says.
With most of the planning and logistics falling on the Form Council assigned to a particular weekend, Saints have to learn to think on their feet; in this case, they were unable to book a food truck in time but wanted to offer a nonDining Hall option. Being Saints, they also wanted to tie it to a good cause.
“We thought, ‘What’s a good reason to ask Gabe [MillerRamírez], who is awesome on the grill, to make burgers, and then sell them?’” Hulsey says. “So we asked Eden [Appiah ’26] and Enid [Appiah ’26] if they wanted to do a fundraiser for their foundation, and they were so excited about that.”
(See story on the Appiah twins’ foundation on page 14).
When it comes to executing, it’s never just the council, Hulsey says. “It’s a lot of planning on the part of the council,
your form advisor, and Mrs. Honsel, but once the event comes, it has a butterfly effect on the whole school.”
“Delegation is important,” Robinson adds. “When it brings everyone together, you have to be able to distribute tasks to have a solid weekend.”
Both Hulsey and Robinson say Form Council work is much more than event planning. “I’ve learned a lot about having confidence in what you’re doing,” Hulsey says. “If you don’t believe in your idea, no one will. It also makes me think about a budget and how to be smart about spending money.”
Robinson is taking away public speaking skills. “Getting up at School Meeting and trying to fire people up for something or giving a lunch announcement, and bringing energy regardless of how you are personally feeling, is important,” he says. “It’s cliché, but it’s not about what you say, but how you say it.”
And when you’re trying to meet the needs of 300-plus teenagers, there can be a lot to say—and a lot to consider. Associate Dean of Students Will Rehrig ’11, who planned weekends prior to Honsel, says Honsel provides great balance to meet students where they are.
“Kristin does an incredible job of coming up with curated weekends where there’s a ton of activities, but we’re also then trying to teach students that not everything is going to be planned for them, that they are responsible for their own weekend experience and, ultimately, their own life experience,” he says. “We blend together weekend activities with downtime for students to be bored and create something fun: what does it look like to set up a chess tournament or go out and build a fort in the woods or just hang out with your friends? We’re teaching students that they have the agency, whether they’re an elected leader or just a student that has an idea.”
The perfect SAS weekend, according to Honsel, is one that “strikes a balance between things that are active, things that are artistic, and things that are chill,” she says. Recent trips that fit that model were ice skating at the University of Delaware, and several visits to Philadelphia: the Cerulean Art Gallery to attend the opening of visual arts instructor Navanjali Kelsey’s gallery exhibition, a study trip to Uncle Bobbie’s Coffee & Books, and a visit to Chris’ Jazz Café.
For Rehrig, who graduated more than a decade ago, SAS weekends look different now. “Weekends have become busier and more planned for students in ways that they weren’t when I was a student, and likely before,” he says. “We are intentionally trying to come up with more things to entertain the students because, in many cases, we’re fighting against technology and phones and all of these addictive things that isolate students. Especially for our younger students, they need curated opportunities to engage. Our seniors are the ones playing sardines in the Arts Center, which has been
happening for decades, because they’re like, ‘We don’t need someone to plan this. We know what we want to do.’ But the freshmen don’t necessarily think that way. In some ways, we almost have to teach the younger students how to be children right now, like, ‘This is what it looks like to play.’”
No matter what activities Saints might sign up for on a weekend, Saturday evenings belong to community-building. “Saturday is the night Form Council is working to bring everyone together,” says Honsel. “It is a lot of work to plan, organize, market, implement, set up, and clean up what is essentially a party for 320 teenagers.”
An added bonus of Form Council is the real-world-ready skills the work sneakily teaches students.
“This is their opportunity to serve their constituents in their form and the greater school. It teaches them so many skills in terms of coming up with a plan, and specifically, thinking beyond your own needs: How do I think beyond myself into what the greater school needs?” says Rehrig. “Then there’s the execution. It’s not just about coming up
with great ideas, but how do you follow through? How do you set it up? How do you market and budget? How do you clean up? It teaches them the whole cycle of leadership and responsibility. It also teaches them to work with each other’s strengths.”
“These kids think big,” Honsel adds. “What they are doing is pretty exceptional given what their days look like. Most of my conversations with the kids are happening at 7:45 or 8:00 in the morning, or 6:45 at night because they’re in class, then they have sports, they have to eat, and they have study hall. I’m so proud of them, all the time, for the work they’re doing to enrich the experience of each and every one of their classmates.”
Thanks to Form Councils, the next great St. Andrew’s traditions are being born, like Winter Waui, the cold-weather complement to Maui Waui, which made its debut this January under the leadership of the V Form. A “big-ticket” item, Winter Waui featured a food truck, inflatable fun like an obstacle course and gladiator ring, bungee racing, and more. Events like the Waui series, the annual Haunted Trails, the Frosty Run, and other bigger events are brought to life with the help of the Mary Durkin Fund for Student Life.
“The beautiful thing about the Durkin Fund is that I can’t think of a single thing that we do on a weekend that wouldn’t fall under its purpose,” Honsel says. “And at least once a day, if not twice, as I’m wondering, ‘How can we use this money to make a difference in student life?,’ I think about Mary Durkin. I think she’d love what we’re doing because she loved community.”
For Robinson, community is the heart of it all. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember we all live here,” he says. “It’s easy to get caught up in your own life, your circle, your schedule. But weekends are a good reminder that everyone’s living here and everyone’s engaged
differently. Weekends are what make our community so close, because no matter if a weekend’s really fun or if it’s quieter, at least we’re all together.”
He remembers a particular quiet weekend from freshman year. “We found a boat in the woods, and we dragged the boat around. That’s it. That was the whole day,” he says. “Looking back, that was so random and weird, but moments like that are fun for no reason. It’s good to be playful. Anywhere else you could just be on your phone, but why?”
“SAS has taught me that you don’t need your phone to create connection,” Hulsey adds. “You just need yourself and confidence in yourself. I’ve made such good friends here because we are all thrown into this situation. Last spring, I would [do chalk art and play on the] Front Lawn often. I would never do that if I was home and had my phone. Having no phones teaches you that there’s so much more outside of your device than in it.”
The same phone rule that applies to the week—phones stay in your room—applies on the weekends, and Rehrig says grownups on campus are intentional to ensure SAS culture is being upheld during non-structured time.
“St. Andrew’s is such an extroverted community that there are students that need introverted quiet time, and that’s understandable,” he says. “They have to recognize both when it’s appropriate to have that time, and how to use that time to recharge. Sitting in your room on your phone is not recharging your social battery. It might be taking a walk in the woods. It might be taking a nap, it might be reading a book. Part of the responsibility of grown-ups here is teaching them what it actually looks like to take personal time and to use it to effectively then engage back in the community. Advisors do a lot of work of truly knowing their advisees so well, so they ask them, ‘Hey, do you know all that’s going on this weekend? What’s your plan?’”
Honsel loves the non-plan plan, like the recent snow-swept Friday evening she walked out her door and heard a cacophony of Saints all around. “There was a snowball fight, sledding; I could hear kids in the paddle courts,” she says. “It was so dark that I couldn’t see what was going on, but I could hear the sounds of friendship. I stood in that moment for a bit. The stuff we do on the weekends gives kids an opportunity to be kids, to figure it out. It gives them independence. If they go home on the weekends, their St. Andrew’s experience will not be as rich. They will not feel as connected. And that could get lonely.”
In a time when research shows teenagers are at higher risks than ever of loneliness, depression, and isolation, Rehrig is happy to contribute to the culture of connection at SAS. “What’s incredible is that we’re even having this conversation. We really care about our weekends,” he says. “We had people visiting this year from another school close to a city, and they were telling us about a weekend mass exodus in which students go into the city Saturday morning, check back in at five, then they’re back in the city for the night. We’re like, ‘How do you do anything on campus?’ And the response was, ‘We don’t really try because that’s just the culture.’ I think what we have at St. Andrew’s is so special because we want to be here and be together.” J
“What I remember about weekends at St. Andrew’s is that they were short. After Saturday classes, and practice (if you were lucky and didn’t have a game), you had the rest of the afternoon and evening to be with your friends before Chapel on Sunday morning. Maybe we’d walk to town, or we’d go out in the woods or the fields if it was nice weather, or we’d wander around the gym or the Arts Center, looking for people and something to do. There was never anything to do, but something was fun about that. We made our own fun, discovered freedom, and came up with a million inside jokes that I can no longer remember. I’m so grateful for the time I had with my friends at SAS, and Saturdays were the best of those times.”
Crew was the only sport that had Saturday games/races in the spring and football in the fall. Saturday afternoon was ‘free’ and you could walk to Acme or the old sub shop or hang out with friends, listen to music, study, then show up at required cafeteria dinner. Saturday night was a movie in Forbes Theater. Sunday was required breakfast, Chapel in the afternoon or evening, followed by family-style meal. There were very few if any cultural or entertainment offerings or social mixers to build community like there are now. Basically, we hung out if we were on campus for the weekend, studied a lot, or got into trouble! Today, life at SAS is much enriched, student culture much healthier, and faculty more present en masse!”
“I remember Saturday classes and dances … I was also in choir, so Sundays were early for me. I remember just wanting one day of the week when I did not have to get up and get right into classroom dress!”
Arts Department Chair Ann Taylor ’86
Admissions and Communications
Fellow Miles Abney ’20
“Weekends at St Andrew’s taught me how to redefine what is ‘fun.’ Saturday nights often consisted of atypical experiences for high school students, but reminded us that, if we wanted something to happen, we had to find a way to make it happen. Nothing to do? Let’s try to build a zipline in the woods, or build an operational cardboard boat to race on the pond! Too cold? Let’s have a murder mystery game contest in Founders and convince faculty to take us to Wawa when we win. Most kids aren’t forced to find ways to have fun with friends, especially with the available technology, but SAS weekends cultivated responsibility, spontaneity, creativity, and a true randomness that fostered an appreciation for little moments which often yielded big connections.”
“Weekends at SAS in the late-’70s were very different. We had three Saturday class periods. Even if you didn’t have a class during one of those periods, you had to be in a place of study. Then we had cafeteria lunch, one of only three cafeteria meals during the week.
“Sunday afternoons were a time for creating memories lounging in the common rooms, meandering around (a much smaller!) Middletown, or getting lost in the woods or on the backroads on our bikes. We did not have the allstar weekend activity line-ups Mrs. Honsel so carefully constructs every weekend, but we still had time to create lifetime friends and memories.”
“I remember the excitement of getting out of my last class on a Saturday and heading to the Dining Hall to have lunch with my friends. From there we would often play on the Front Lawn or hang out on dorm. The weekends were short, so we always wanted to spend time together, even if we were just sitting around talking in our rooms.”
Co-Dean of Residential Life Stacey Duprey ’85
“Back then, it was ‘create your own fun.’ There was nowhere to go and not much to do in Middletown. There was the occasional dance, Acme runs for food, maybe a trip to Pappy’s for pizza, or George’s for cheesesteaks. We would bake things and hang out on dorm and around campus. I didn’t climb trees, but people were just climbing trees! If I think about my group of friends, we would take the weekend to do our hair for the week, and do our laundry while we listened to records on a record player or mixed tapes. The Internet did not exist. We had a lot of ice cream socials—it’s amazing how exciting that was. It was just ice cream. We spent a lot of time hanging out at the Roaches’ house making cookies, eating their food, and watching TV.”
English instructor Alec Hill ’12
Science instructor Alex Horgan ’18
Director of Academic Support Karen Pupke ’87
Director of Alumni Engagement
Chesa Profaci ’80
A sampling of St. Andrew’s women who have transformed their spaces
for the past two years, st. andrew’s magazine has been celebrating the 50th anniversary of coeducation, telling not only the stories of the 27 bold “First Girls” who arrived in the fall of 1973, but also the stories of all the trailblazing women who continued to pass through the doors of Founders Hall in their wake, be they staff, faculty, or students. In our last issue devoted to that historic moment for our school, we wanted to share the byproduct of coeducation—St. Andrew’s women who go out and help change the world.
We sat down with a few of those women, Saints from the 1970s to the 2010s, who are working to effect change in industries like business, media, education, medicine, fashion, and more. What’s most inspiring to consider is that these alumnae are but a small sample size of what generations of Saints women do beyond the pond.
For ease of reading, we’ve interspersed a few Q&A formats within the narrative spreads.
We hope you enjoy reading about these women and how they’ve contributed to the world.
M E D I A
Erin Burnett ’94
In a 2008 New York Times piece on Erin Burnett ’94 and her then star-on-the-rise at CNBC, Burnett admitted that what she was trying to do at the time—translate a business news beat into mainstream reporting—had never been done in the profession. Perhaps that’s because there’d never been an Erin Burnett before to try.
Burnett’s acronym-heavy timeline includes stops at CNN, CNBC, MSNBC, NBC, and back to CNN, with SAS to start.
“That was a transformative period in anybody’s life, those teenage years,” says Burnett, who did make it happen—she just celebrated 14 years as the one in the chair five nights a week on her CNN nightly news hour, Erin Burnett OutFront, which airs 7 p.m. EST. “For me, the people at St. Andrew’s really gave me a sense of purpose and also a sense of confidence and depth in myself that I felt like I could do whatever I wanted to do. Because I came from St. Andrew’s, I felt like I was able to say, ‘I am going to do this. I want to do this. I am not afraid to reach out and build a relationship.’”
The reach-out-and-build-a-relationship part is what got her to CNN the first time. Before she was a journalist, Burnett worked at Goldman Sachs as an investment-banking analyst. It was during this time that she wrote a letter to former CNN anchor Willow Bay, which ultimately turned into a job on Moneyline as a writer and booker.
The third of the Burnett children to go to St. Andrew’s— her siblings are Mara Burnett ’84 and Laurie Burnett ’87—Burnett remembers hanging out on campus as young as 3 years old. She most remembers a trio of St. Andrew’s stalwarts at that time—Former Head of School Tad Roach P’04,’07,’13,’18, former Associate Head of School Will Speers P’07,’09,’13 and drama teacher Hoover Sutton. “It was an exciting place with a lot going on, and it was building an era, and it felt very much that way,” she says. Local to the Eastern Shore, Burnett says Sutton would swing by to visit her family on his motorcycle. She remembers running to the end of her country road and lamenting that she couldn’t take a ride. “The people and the characters of St. Andrew’s were very much a part of my family and my childhood,” she says. She credits Speers and Roach for their impact on her writing, and former advisor and history department chair John Lyons for being an “incredible force in my life … we are still very close to this day.”
Long fascinated with international stories, after graduating from Williams College—where she studied political science and economics—Burnett considered taking the Foreign Service Exam before getting a job at Goldman.
After CNN’s Moneyline, she landed at Bloomberg in 2003, CNBC in 2005, and returned to CNN in 2011 to headline OutFront, where she found the transition from business to the news of the day to be relatively seamless. “The econ and business side of [my work] was just a superpower,” she says. “So many things around the world, and what we’re seeing now with every conflict we’re talking about—you could take Ukraine and Russia as an example—there are so many layers to it, but economics is always one of them.”
Over the last few years, Burnett has been on location to cover the Russian invasion in Ukraine. “I was there the night the war began,” she says. “As a transformative experience covering that, there was one woman that I met the second time I was there, who had her house completely destroyed.” Burnett remembers the Russian foxholes—underground spaces the soldiers carved out that included steps and chimneys made out of scavenged pipes that offered a rudimentary heating system; by contrast, Burnett notes, the village woman lived in a root cellar with no heating. “The [Ukrainians] had developed a relationship with these soldiers because they had to interact with them,” she says. “Everything’s completely destroyed, but they had to share things like eggs. I don’t mean relationship like friends; I mean they had to interact with each other and function. She’s telling me about these young soldiers and all these things that they left behind, some of them more gruesome than others. She had just one child, a son, and he was fighting and died for Ukraine.”
Burnett went back a year later when reporting from the frontlines and came by the village to find the woman, who was living in a small hut that she’d been able to rebuild. “She was alone in this little village, and we went to see her son’s grave,” Burnett says. “She lost everything in her life: her home, her child. And yet she is there, and she has a purpose in her life, which she believes is to rebuild her country. She’s doing that for her child. There’s been such incredible loss these past couple of years, whether it’s there, or in Israel, even in California, very different types of loss. But people are capable of such incredible resilience. As a journalist, you are observing it, and you are there, but they are living it. And it is incredible what human beings are capable of. I think that’s the one thing that I am continually astounded by.”
Having covered the administrations of presidents Barack Obama, Donald Trump, and Joe Biden, she says her game plan for covering Trump’s second term is “an answer in progress” that lies in the bedrock of fact. “It’s simplistic to say, but as a journalist, you provide facts and keep to the facts, and try to put yourself in other people’s shoes to understand how somebody else might feel or see something differently,” she says. “When it comes to covering politicians, it is about speaking truth to power, which I know sounds generic, but I do believe it to be a true north. We live in a world where
‘alternative facts,’ as infamously coined at the beginning of the first Trump administration, are what defines the world that we live in because of social media platforms.”
She’s seen a lot evolve in her industry throughout her tenure, but nothing like the technological disruptions of the last decade. “The media industry is going through seismic change,” she says. “We’re being challenged by AI. We’re also in a business where more people have TV screens than ever before, and while I don’t believe that watching content on a big screen is going away, the way that you get it, whether from cable or streaming, has shifted dramatically. So as an industry, the money that was made that supported the news gathering and the fact-checking and the legal that came from the cable model is not yet supported by streaming. And so you’re in an industry that is contracting and dealing with layoffs, and trying to figure out a future in this new world when nobody knows the answer.”
“But people are capable of such incredible resilience. As a journalist, you are observing it, and you are there, but they are living it. And it is incredible what human beings are capable of. I think that’s the one thing that I am continually astounded by.”
No matter how it continues to change, Burnett urges the importance of journalism. “There will always be a need for it,” she says. “I often think about that mother in Ukraine. I think that people can make a difference, and that humans interacting with human beings face-to-face makes a difference. And I think that empathy makes a difference. And I guess I would use the word ‘storytelling,’ not in the sense of fiction, but of telling stories about people because that is what matters. And it’s the one thing that a machine can’t replace.”
Three decades removed from SAS, Burnett says she still thinks about the school—the sense of thoughtfulness and purpose she feels it gave her—particularly as she goes through different stages of her life. “We’re going through stages as a country right now as well, which has its own challenges,” she says. “Having those touch points of finding a sense of purpose and a sense of community and a sense of responsibility to those around you, and to the world, is something that I reach back for.” •
M E D I A
Moira Forbes ’97
Fresh off hosting an international women’s summit in Abu Dhabi, Moira Forbes ’97—a fourth-generation Forbes and the first woman to join her family’s 108-year-old media company—made time to chat with us about finding her voice, founding ForbesWomen, and the St. Andrew’s educators that helped her become a storyteller.
You’re a question-asker. What are you asking right now?
I’m curious about leadership during this global transition we’re experiencing. Who’s making decisions that shape our future, and which voices should be more central in those conversations? I’m interested in how technology creates both connection and division simultaneously. Most pressing to me is how we bridge growing divides—not just tolerating different viewpoints but actually learning from them. I think bringing more voices to the table and asking better questions together is essential for progress.
How did you find your voice within such a powerful family and company that already had a specific public voice?
Finding my voice meant carving my own path while honoring a multigenerational legacy. As a fourth-generation Forbes, following my great-grandfather, grandfather, and father— each with their distinct approaches—I recognized early on that my perspective would be different. I didn’t see myself fully reflected in their journeys, accomplished as they were. I also noticed a significant gap—the absence of women’s voices.
When I founded ForbesWomen nearly two decades ago, I was following genuine curiosity about remarkable women’s
journeys to success, but I was also seeking models and mentors I hadn’t found elsewhere. By spotlighting their voices, I discovered that what differentiated me—my interest in underrepresented narratives and diverse perspectives—could become my unique contribution to our family’s tradition of championing entrepreneurs. In creating a platform for women’s stories that I needed to hear myself, I ultimately found the authentic expression of my own voice.
Why are you so drawn to telling women’s stories?
I’ve always gravitated toward stories of people forging unexpected paths. In Mr. [Former Head of School Tad] Roach’s senior year English class, I immersed myself in Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth, examining how she captured the invisible constraints on women’s ambitions. In college, I studied artist Lilla Cabot Perry, who began painting professionally at 36 and helped introduce Impressionism to America despite being excluded from formal training and largely unrecognized in the traditional rubrics of art history.
Looking back, these weren’t random interests but a consistent thread. Women’s stories show both achievement and the context navigated to make that achievement possible. They reveal how progress actually happens—rarely in straight lines, often through unexpected routes. These narratives aren’t just stories; they’re practical blueprints for creating change in a world still experiencing “firsts” across industries.
Why did 2008 feel like the right time to launch ForbesWomen?
By 2008, women were driving innovation and economic growth in unprecedented ways, yet their perspectives remained surprisingly peripheral in business media. I wanted to create a platform that recognized women’s insights as essential business intelligence, not occasional special features.
The timing was critical. By spotlighting these stories, we could help close the opportunity gap. For me, ForbesWomen wasn’t just about featuring the women who had already broken through barriers, but creating visibility that would enable more women to see themselves in leadership roles across industries. It wasn’t about creating a separate category for women’s content, it was about integrating essential perspectives into our understanding of global business. The financial crisis had exposed limitations in traditional approaches, and I believed expanding whose voices we amplified wasn’t just right, it was necessary for giving everyone access to models of leadership that might resonate with their own experiences and aspirations.
How have you observed the conversation around women and power shifting over the decades?
The evolution has been remarkable, though not always linear. When I began interviewing women CEOs early in my career, many told me they didn’t even feel comfortable
displaying family photos in their offices—they feared it would undermine perceptions of their professional commitment. To put this in perspective, in 1995, there were just two women running S&P 500 companies. We’re talking about a time when women couldn’t get business loans without male cosigners until the late 1980s or apply for their own credit cards until 1974. We are still far from parity, but a significant shift can happen within a single generation.
The conversation has also progressed from questioning whether women can lead to exploring how more expansive leadership approaches strengthen organizations. Women are forging their own paths across every sector, defining success on their own terms rather than conforming to established models. What’s particularly encouraging is how today’s leaders focus not just on their own advancement, but on creating opportunities for others. Despite setbacks alongside breakthroughs, the trajectory shows that different voices at decision-making tables are fundamental to success in today’s complex landscape.
How has Forbes/you had to adapt to a changing landscape for media and journalists?
The media landscape demands a level of adaptability that would have been unimaginable when I began my career. Business models now evolve in months rather than years, and audience expectations shift constantly. What’s guided us through this perpetual transformation is maintaining clarity about our fundamental purpose while remaining extraordinarily flexible about how we fulfill it.
We’ve learned to focus on the value we provide rather than the specific formats or platforms through which we deliver it. The core elements of compelling journalism—accuracy, insight, and meaningful impact—remain constant, but nearly everything about how we develop and distribute content has been reinvented multiple times. Organizations struggle when they confuse their methods with their mission. Our resilience has come from understanding the difference and embracing change as an opportunity to reach more people in more meaningful ways, rather than as a threat to tradition.
What’s your St. Andrew’s story?
St. Andrew’s gave me exactly what I needed at that point in my life. The small, close-knit community encouraged full participation and engagement. Teachers knew you personally, not just as another student passing through their classroom. The campus itself was also a significant draw— those walks around Noxontown Pond provided valuable space for reflection that shaped your approach to challenges even today.
Mr. Roach and Mr. [former Associate Head of School Will] Speers in English were transformative influences for me. They created an environment where thinking deeply was valued above having the right answer. Their classes shaped
my interest in storytelling and my understanding of how narratives both reflect and challenge societal norms. Looking back, I can draw a direct line from our literature discussions to my later work highlighting women’s stories in business and leadership. They saw potential in me perhaps before I recognized it myself, encouraging a level of critical thinking that has served me throughout my career.
The critical thinking skills and intellectual curiosity cultivated there remain central to my work today. Since becoming a parent, my appreciation for what St. Andrew’s offers has only deepened. I now understand more clearly the value of an education that balances intellectual growth with character development. The school gave me tools that have proven invaluable throughout my career and growth, though I didn’t fully recognize their significance until years later. •
“The critical thinking skills and intellectual curiosity cultivated [at St. Andrew’s] remain central to my work today. Since becoming a parent, my appreciation for what St. Andrew’s offers has only deepened. I now understand more clearly the value of an education that balances intellectual growth with character development.”
FA I T H
Louise Howlett P’11,’14
Louise Howlett P’11,’14’s path to becoming one of the first women priests ordained in Delaware was a journey sparked by an early, intrinsic connection to the divine. “I felt a very early kind of sense of God in my life as a tiny child,” says Howlett, a former SAS chaplain who worked at St. Andrew’s from 1988 to 2002 but lived there with her husband, history teacher and coach Lindsay Brown P’11,’14, until 2016. This connection, she says, was initially separate from organized religion, and solidified during high school. “I got confirmed as a high schooler and really sort of connected with life in the church and connected with God through the church, as well as through nature,” she says.
However, it was the harrowing Jim Jones massacre in Jonestown, Guyana in 1978 that truly ignited her calling. “Jim Jones was a very charismatic preacher,” Howlett says. “He had sort of created a cult around himself that left the United States because they were being investigated, and they went to Guyana. The end of the story is he got hundreds of people to drink poison and they all died. I remember I went to church and the minister said, ‘All those people had their hand out, and the person who took their hand was Jim Jones. Why wasn’t it us?’ And I knew then that my role was to help people who don’t know God to know that God cares about them.”
Her path led her to Yale Divinity School, and then unexpectedly, to St. Andrew’s. Howlett knew of the school because of her father, William C. Howlett ’45. “My dad was friends with [former Head of School] Jon O’Brien and was out to dinner with the O’Briens and he said, ‘Our daughter is about to graduate from seminary.’ Jon said, ‘Well, we’d really like to have a woman chaplain, we’ve had two male chaplains for a long time.’ My father also told him I was an English teacher before I went to seminary.” After Howlett and O’Brien met, he offered her the job on the spot.
Howlett’s 1990 ordination was a significant milestone for Delaware. “It was still somewhat early days for women’s ordination, and I was second wave,” she says. “But the first wave was kind of a radical thing; so radical that these women weren’t getting jobs. When I came to Delaware, there were five other women who had been ordained, and they were all second or third career, 55 or older, and none of them were full-time employed. When I got ordained, I was the only full-time employed woman, and by far the youngest to be ordained in the state. I was the first woman to be ordained and pregnant, ordained and this, ordained and that.”
She was also likely the first ordained woman priest who was also a dorm parent, a teacher, and a coach. “It’s interesting living [at St. Andrew’s],” she says. “You’re playing all these roles and it’s all so visible. My husband and I have talked about this a lot in a boarding school, that you have to walk your talk because otherwise, everything you’re teaching is negated. If you say one thing and do another, the whole thing falls apart. St. Andrew’s was a lot of life learning in all these wonderful, beautiful, and hard ways. Being held accountable in that way by living in a community does so much to build mutual responsibility with others.”
Howlett loved watching Chapel become a sanctuary for students. “That God and the church were a place to be when the Persian Gulf War broke out, or when someone passed away; that Chapel was where we all wanted to be, and where God was present with the students, whether they were questioning their faith or not. I feel like I was more interested in kids connecting with God in whatever way they saw fit, whether it was through Jesus and the Episcopal Church or their own family’s religion or nature or whatever.”
Now living in New Hampshire, Howlett, who went back to school after leaving St. Andrew’s, is a therapist. In 2024, she found herself back on campus in the fall for the first time in almost 10 years. “It was a beautiful day and I took a walk with a couple of faculty friends around the pond and it was this great sense of, we’re family still,” she says. “Even though I’d been gone nine years from living there and much longer from working there, I was so grateful.” •
SA S FI RS T
E
D U CAT I O N
Giselle Furlonge ’03
Giselle Furlonge ’03 will admit it: she was a reluctant St. Andrean. “I did not really set out to attend St. Andrew’s,” she says. She was a freshman at the Holderness School in New Hampshire, when her brother, Nigel Furlonge, took a job at St. Andrew’s as a history teacher and director of studies. “My parents said, ‘You’ve got to go where your brother goes,’ so off I went to Delaware.” It was a big deal for Furlonge’s parents, who moved to America from Trinidad in 1980, for Furlonge to go away to school. “It was important to them that my brother and I stayed together,” she says.
As a new sophomore, Furlonge was miserable. “I was doing everything in my power to be unhappy and not really make connections since I didn’t intend to stay long,” she says. She was not a “drinker of the St. Andrew’s Kool-Aid.” But the school’s magic soon started to work on her thanks to her advisor, Terence Gilheany P’24,’26. “I realized it was such a relationship-driven place and I was missing out. Terence was a big influence on my 15-year-old mind,” she says. “He encouraged me to take a chance on St. Andrew’s. I remember him asking me once during a Waffle House run, ‘What’s the worst that can happen? You make friends? You start to like people?’”
Through Gilheany and other key figures, like former classics teacher Nathan Costa, English teacher Darcy Caldwell P’07,’07,’10, and history teachers Dana Byrd and Brad Bates, Furlonge began to see what life at St. Andrew’s could be, and who she could be in that space, particularly considering she comes from a family of educators. “I benefited from so many people who were in my corner. Once I opened myself up, that shift set me on a path that changed my life,” she says. “I realized the purpose of school, the purpose of learning and education, is to confirm and complicate who we are, what we value, what we do, and what we believe. And maybe most importantly, ask, ‘Why?’”
She does a lot of asking “why” now in her charge as associate head of school at Seattle Academy of Arts and Sciences [SAAS], a sixth- to twelfth-grade day school in Seattle. “I left a SAS for a SAAS, a school that also shares the colors of red, black, and white, and whose mascot is a cardinal,” she says, laughing.
After graduating from the University of Pennsylvania and studying to become an archeologist at UCLA, Furlonge found her way to education. “I found myself tutoring a lot and seeking connection through teaching rather than on [archeological] digs, and I really missed being in an intentional learning community,” she says. She soon started teaching at a day school in Philadelphia and completed her master of arts in private school leadership from Columbia University’s Teachers College in 2013. In 2014, she returned to St. Andrew’s, where she chaired the classics department, taught American history, and served as dean of diversity education and associate dean of faculty before leaving in 2019 for Seattle Academy.
“Although they are in totally different settings— St. Andrew’s is a bucolic, pastoral place, and at SAAS, we take up one city block in downtown Seattle—what I loved about St. Andrew’s as a student and faculty member, I found in a new SAAS, a school that is people first, student first, and animated by a big purpose,” she says. “I think you might find a disproportionate number of St. Andrew’s alumni who go into education or want to contribute to that field. That’s part of what St. Andrew’s gives students: a desire to be in community with others, and to design and contribute to systems that can change and better the world.”
Her current school, founded in 1983, mimics the innovative, entrepreneurial spirit of its hometown of Seattle. “Our school is 42 years old and has that West Coast startup energy,” she says. In July 2025, the school will tap into that entrepreneurial mindset when it transforms its school leadership model by moving to a co-headship; Furlonge will become the first head of school of color at Seattle Academy.
“Co-headship models are exceedingly rare in independent schools. There’s maybe a handful in the world,” she says.
“Right now, when we think about the job of a head of school, or leadership at any school, and what that role is responsible for, and increasingly what schools have been taxed with in the post-pandemic landscape, that’s a big job. The research tells us that teen and preteen brains have aged prematurely as a lasting impact of the pandemic, and that impactedness is felt by teachers as well. We have to be really intentional about the kinds of learning environments that we set up at STORY CONTINUES ON PAGE 74
E D U CAT I O N
Nikole Smith ’90
“My friends like to call me ‘Olivia Pope,’” says Nikole Smith ’90, laughing. Pope, the fictional, unflappable D.C. fixer made famous by actress Kerry Washington in Shonda Rhimes’ seven-season drama Scandal, gets things done. “I’m a problem-solver,” Smith says. “I think each challenge I’ve ever faced, whether professional or personal, I’ve felt ready, equipped, and prepared. My critical thinking was so developed at St. Andrew’s that I don’t become overwhelmed when problems arise. The running joke in my family every time I solve something is, ‘Oh, there’s that St. Andrew’s education.’”
Smith is the academic director of Prep for Prep, a nonprofit educational access and leadership development organization founded in 1978 that identifies and prepares gifted public and charter school students in the New York City tri-state area for success in independent day and boarding schools. PREP 9, the upper school focused component of Prep for Prep, was founded in 1988. It helps 7th-grade students find their way to an exemplary secondary school education.
Smith was a junior at St. Andrew’s in 1989 when PREP 9’s first-ever contingent of accepted SAS students arrived. “I remember not only being very impressed with the program and the staff, who would come back to campus to check on the students, but what really stood out to me was the students,” she says. “They were so self-assured and confident. By that point, as a junior, I could see the way in which I had grown in my confidence at St. Andrew’s, but to come in on day one, from a public school, it was really impressive.”
So impressive that Smith wanted to be involved. PREP 9 was looking for student advisors in the schools with which it partnered, and Smith raised her hand. As part of her role advising students, she also served as a summer teaching assistant in PREP 9 classrooms. “It was then, as a teenager, that I really started to connect with my love for education,” she says.
Smith went on to serve as a PREP 9 teacher until 2004, when she began working full time for Prep for Prep as the head of the middle school Prepatory Component. She became academic director—the nonprofit’s version of a head of school—in 2014. Prior to Prep for Prep, she served as dean of the junior class and diversity coordinator at Poly Prep Country Day School in Brooklyn, where she was a member of the history department. Smith coached state championship volleyball teams at Poly Prep and the Spence School in Manhattan.
“When I was at Poly, I modeled myself after the educators I had at St. Andrew’s,” Smith says. “I will admit I love when an applicant for a teaching position has a connection to boarding schools. When I see that they’ve gone to or worked at a boarding school, you sort of know you’re getting a person who is willing to go above and beyond for the community.”
That boarding school background is probably why Smith hopes her Prep for Prep legacy will be that she prioritized balance.
“It’s so important to acknowledge mental health with our students, but also with our teachers,” says Smith, who intentionally zeroes in on those times during the school year when her students and educators are overwhelmed and provides opportunities for them to refresh.
“At SAS, I felt empowered to try new things and to create things that did not exist.”
Although Smith says the state of education has constantly changed during her two-decades-plus tenure at Prep for Prep, the throughlines that connect her to the students remain the same.
“These are students who have an immense amount of ability and often don’t have opportunity,” she says. “Many feel that they’re not challenged in their schools and want to be, or they’re looking for a community of like-minded individuals—and by that I don’t mean a monolithic group of people, but a community that is intellectually curious, enjoys challenges, and enjoys school. What these students are looking for resonates with me because that was my story: I couldn’t wait to get back to St. Andrew’s. It wasn’t just the new clothes or reconnecting with friends, it was the new things that I was going to learn, the new academic challenges, the new books I would get to read. The journeys of our students are near and dear to me.”
Smith enjoys a relationship with St. Andrew’s that not many of her alumni peers can claim—with PREP 9, she’s had a hand in helping to craft the SAS student body for years.
“St. Andrew’s has been involved with PREP 9 from the very beginning,” Smith says. “I do think about the fact that my work helps drive the student body there because I see a connection between St. Andrew’s mission and our core values, which are excellence, integrity, commitment, courage, and community. We are very intentional in terms of reminding our students of why they’re here, and the impact that they can have, which is something I think St. Andrew’s does well.”
Smith works with over 50 day schools in the New York area, so she can’t visit them all each year, but she does ensure
she steeps herself in the community and culture of all the boarding schools with which PREP 9 partners.
“I’m always thrilled to get back to St. Andrew’s,” Smith says. “At SAS, I felt empowered to try new things and to create things that did not exist. That was something that I carried with me in college, and in my teaching career. At Prep, I was committed to not only empowering the students, but empowering the faculty and staff as well. It has been rewarding to hear from people with whom I have worked. Some felt confident pursuing leadership because of the seeds planted at Prep. They often mention using my approach as they take on leadership opportunities. That is not only gratifying, but allows for a strong community of mentorship and modeling.” •
B U S I N E SS &
P H I L A N T H R O PY
Heather Mitchell ’92
Former trustee Heather Mitchell ’92 has done it all. She’s served as president and chief operating officer of the nation’s largest minority-owned investment firm, she’s helped oversee her family’s Chicago-based nonprofit devoted to supporting Chicago’s unhoused families, and once, after looking around and not seeing any other women, she wrote her company’s maternity policy. Here, we chat about nontraditional spaces, her baseline, and that book she’s definitely going to finish writing.
We’ve been speaking to St. Andrew’s women who have transformed spaces. How do you think you’ve done that?
Think of it this way: I was one of the first woman in my office [at asset-management firm Capri Capital Partners in Chicago] to get pregnant, so I had to write the maternity policy. I mostly worked around men. Many times in my career, I’ve found myself in nontraditional spaces, where I was often in the minority, being Black and a woman. So, I thought, “Well, if I’m going to be in these spaces, I’m going to bring other people like me into this space.” I don’t only mean people who looked like me or led their lives like me, but who were, in other ways, bringing a unique point of view. I’ve worked with Democrats and Republicans, which is what we are supposed to do because the most diverse teams create the most incredible results. I’ve been very intentional in doing that in all spaces I’ve occupied, whether board work, corporate, or politics, trying to inform those spaces in a cultural way anchored in what I describe as my “baseline,” which is being in alignment with my values and integrity. You’ve worked in politics?
I worked on the mayoral campaign for [former Chicago Mayor] Lori Lightfoot. I met her wife, Amy, through board work on one of the nation’s preeminent theater companies, Steppenwolf. Amy, who was on the board with me, asked if I could help out; at that time, they were in the exploratory phase and thinking about a run. I thought, “This could be kind of interesting.” What they found attractive was my work at the Primo Center, a Chicago organization founded by my grandfather, Bishop Quintin Primo, devoted to Chicago’s unhoused population. Since its founding, the Primo Center has grown to be the largest provider of services for homeless women and children in the Chicagoland area. I was so immersed with what was happening at the Primo Center
that it allowed me to go into neighborhoods on the West and South side and really understand what was happening in the city. I was able to strategize and figure out, “Okay, what are the issues, and what are the things that people are concerned about?” I’d go to churches, agencies, not-for-profits, and just talk with people. By the way, we never thought Lori was going to win. It was crazy—there were nearly 20 people in the race!
What are you up to now?
Now we’re in L.A., but years ago, I moved to Chicago for my husband’s job, and at that juncture, I was young and wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. My uncle—my grandfather Bishop Primo’s son—said, “Hey, while you’re here, could you maybe just help me a bit with the Primo Center, we’re trying to expand it. This will purely be voluntary.” At the same time, he said, “Hey, and by the way, would you also think about working for me at Capri, just until you decide what you want to do?” At that point, Capri, which my uncle founded, was a real estate investment firm headquartered in Chicago that eventually became the largest minority-owned investment firm in the country. I said, “Sure, I’ll do both those things, but this is not what I want to do long term.” I got to a point where I woke up 15 years later and said, “You know what? Although I’ve found this work to be deeply fulfilling, it’s time for me to do the things that I really want to be doing and not be living other people’s dreams or other people’s vocations.” Here in L.A., I’ve found the incredible opportunity to be a parent during a transformational time in my teenage daughter’s life.
“St. Andrew’s has always been a touchstone for me. It’s the place where I feel like I became a person, where my values and integrity became something that I could carry to different places. It feels like a spiritual base. That’s what keeps you centered.”
I’ve kept up with my board work. I’m still working with the Primo Center and Steppenwolf Theater. I’m part of a women’s PAC [Political Action Committee] where we identify and support women across the country to run and hopefully win their races—I spend a lot of time with that. I’ve done diversity, equity, and inclusion work and I’m on the advisory board of a fund to help address affordable housing in Los Angeles. Oh, and I’m writing young adult fiction. I’ve been writing it forever. My daughter and I have this deal that I have to finish the first draft before she graduates.
What’s the thread in all the work you do?
My husband and I really care about housing, about diversity and inclusion, and about education. Both of us had the transformational opportunity to go to independent schools, and we believe it’s important to give back. But it’s also about my baseline, which anchors me, but also pisses people off. A baseline of care and love means speaking truth that creates confrontational moments. My parents always told me that my integrity is what matters. You can do all these other wonderful things, but at the end of the day, who you stand up for and what you believe is the most important. I believe in things like humanity, the idea that you are here to serve others. When humanity is your baseline, then you always feel yoked to something and look to do the right thing.
What’s your St. Andrew’s story?
Before my grandfather retired from being a bishop in Chicago, he had been a rector at St. Matthew’s Church in Wilmington and he wanted to retire in Delaware to be closer to my mom and me, who had just moved there. My dad grew up in Delaware and both of my parents went to college in Delaware. I started at another independent school in Delaware, and it just wasn’t right. Then my grandfather became interim bishop of Delaware. In doing so, he sort of discovered St. Andrew’s. He said, “This could be really cool for you.” I never thought about boarding school, but that summer, Will Speers was the interim head of admissions because somebody was on sabbatical. I sat in the Founders
basement for an hour and a half—there was no air conditioning back then—for an interview and was like, this place is amazing. I got in and he was my advisor for four years, and, later, a colleague.
Yes, you worked for St. Andrew’s. What was that like?
I taught English, I coached basketball, worked in admissions, and I coached boys soccer with John Austin ’83, which was absolutely hilarious. I was on dorm and I worked with the diversity group then called Spectrum. I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do. Those few years were like grad school before grad school. Tad had just become head of school, and I was really close to him and Elizabeth. I knew I wasn’t going to be an English teacher, but my heroes were those people: educators, ministers, people who lived my baseline. I kinda had this idea that I would figure it all out if I just went back to St. Andrew’s. What’s crazy is there are people at the school who I worked with then that are now leaders. Maybe crazier is the number of former students who come up to me and say, “You had such a profound effect on my life.” And I’m like, “Really? I was a mess then.”
What about St. Andrew’s do you carry with you?
I’m on the board of another school, and it’s been interesting navigating what’s going on in the world right now from a non-Episcopal school. I think the Episcopal baseline is, there’s an inherent understanding that you care about people, and that we can have difficult discussions. When you don’t have that level of care and love and the understanding that we’re part of a bigger community, it’s harder to get people to get together and find solutions. And right now, when I feel so much turmoil and uncertainty, that’s what I’m trying to do: find a community everywhere I go to just figure it out. St. Andrew’s has always been a touchstone for me. It’s the place where I feel like I became a person, where my values and integrity became something that I could carry to different places. It feels like a spiritual base. That’s what keeps you centered. •
B U S I N E SS
Perry Yeatman ’82
Since she was a kid, Perry Yeatman ’82 had a strong sense of self. She recognized she was someone with questions, who wanted to engage, who didn’t want to absorb the story, but wanted to be part of the story. She wasn’t afraid of bucking norms.
“It felt like, even at 13, the world was saying, ‘You’re too smart, too loud, too tall, too whatever—just be a good, subservient girl,’” Yeatman says. “That’s part of the reason I ended up at St. Andrew’s. I needed a place that didn’t view me as ‘too much’ of anything, or as a girl whose primary goal should be to find a husband. In some ways, St. Andrew’s saved my life because it said, ‘We love smart, ambitious women. Be as big and bold as you can be.’”
It should come as no surprise, then, that when Yeatman arrived at Save the Children in 2020, for which she served as head of corporate before joining Save the Children Global Ventures [SCGV] as global chief development officer in 2025, she took one look at the century-old fundraising model and thought to buck the norm.
“Throughout my career, when my teams said, ‘It’s not possible,’ I’ve said, ‘Hold on. Let’s understand the difference between it’s never been done and it can’t be done,” Yeatman says. “Because I’m only going to give up if the answer is it truly can’t, or shouldn’t, be done. Hard is not going to scare me.”
In the case of Save the Children, the funding model was largely linear and relied on donations or grants. In the simplest terms, “The organization would ask a funder for a donation, deliver the agreed program, say thank you, and
send a report letting the donor know what was achieved,” she says. “The problem with a linear model is that while it can create lasting change, it is rarely sustainable, scalable, and replicable. While it works for feeding a kid today, or delivering lifesaving surgery today, it doesn’t have a built in flywheel to help ensure the next meal and the next surgery without somebody giving another donation.” The result is a large donation requirement that needs to be constantly refreshed.
“The magic for me is adding the positive power of business to this linear donation model. Market-based mechanisms can change the world like nothing else,” she says. “Let’s say we take a donation but instead of putting it into a program, we put it into a small social enterprise that, once up and running, has the ability to keep delivering benefits year after year without additional donations because the enterprise’s own business model provides the next round of funding.”
Consider the early childhood education gap in Africa. “Historically, we would’ve said, ‘We’ve identified the problem. There aren’t enough quality teachers. So if you give us a donation, we’ll go train 100 new teachers. But then what? One hundred new teachers aren’t going to close a gap that large, so the problem persists.”
But if an organization uses venture philanthropy instead, it can take a donation and invest in a small social enterprise, like an academy that trains and educates teachers. “The teachers may not have the money upfront to pay for their education, so we give the academy an affordable loan to pay for that first
“My calling was business. I loved the clarity of it: you either produce something people want to buy or you don’t. You either make money or you don’t. I knew that if I wanted to make the world a better place, my best opportunity was to leverage the positive power of business.”
class of teachers,” she says. “When the first hundred teachers begin working, they pay the academy back. Now the academy has the money it needs to train the next hundred teachers, and the next and the next. The flywheel repeats. The approach is more sustainable, scalable, and replicable so that it can actually close a teacher gap over time.”
Her work at SCGV focuses on health, education, and protection for children in many of the world’s most challenging places. “We know if a child is healthy, educated, and protected early on, they have the chance to achieve their full potential,” she says. “But if you miss that window, it impacts their lives forever. Few things deliver the same positive societal benefit as investing in these early years. As an example, roughly 80 percent of brain development happens in the first three years of a child’s life. You have no second chance at that.”
Prior to SCGV, Yeatman worked as president of Kraft Foods Foundation and vice president of corporate affairs for Unilever; her first job with Burson sent her to Asia in her early 20s.
“There are many other professions where you can do a lot of good in the world. Doctors. Scientists. Teachers. But I did not have a calling for those,” she says. “My calling was business. I loved the clarity of it: you either produce something people want to buy or you don’t. You either make money or you don’t. I knew that if I wanted to make the world a better place, my best opportunity was to leverage the positive power of business.
Her world changed, however, when her daughter became ill at 14. “She was diagnosed with a rare, incurable underlying
health condition that in turn spurred more than 17 other health conditions, which together make every single day a unique challenge,” Yeatman says. “At that moment, I realized I needed a job that was going to be so motivating that even on a bad day at home, I would want to do that job. To help kids who need a meal or a book … my motivation became to help give children a chance.”
When her daughter got sick, Yeatman was reminded again of the St. Andrew’s community. Her daughter needed multiple injections each week, and Yeatman struggled to do it. A fellow St. Andrean she crossed paths with at a Coast to Coast Toast was a nurse, and Yeatman didn’t live far from her. Chesa Profaci ’80 connected the two.
“I said, ‘I know this is crazy, but can I drive my daughter to your house once a week so you can give her the injections and teach her how to do it?’” Yeatman remembers. “Every Wednesday, for months, after this woman worked a full shift at Hopkins, she did this. This woman was amazing. I didn’t know her from Adam. She owed me nothing. We just both happened to go to the same school. That’s what St. Andrew’s does.” •
E N G I N E E R I N G
Margaux Lopez ’11
If you’re looking for mechanical engineer Margaux Lopez ’11, look up—way up—to the summit of Cerro Pachón, a mountain in the Chilean Andes. There, almost 9,000 feet above the coastal town of La Serena, sits the newly constructed Vera Rubin Observatory, where Lopez toils to help reframe everything humankind believes it knows about the mysteries of the universe.
That isn’t hyperbole. We’re talking enhanced knowledge about far-away galaxies and dark energy (the enigmatic “something” that drives the universe’s accelerating rate of expansion); the discovery of new asteroids, comets, stars, and exploding supernovas; and the most complete map of the Milky Way that has ever been created.
“This thing is legitimately going to revolutionize astronomy,” Lopez says. The “thing” in question is the Legacy Survey of Space and Time (LSST) Camera, the game-changing, car-sized digital camera which, in March, was affixed to the observatory’s Simonyi Survey Telescope. For the next decade, the LSST will repeatedly scan and photograph the southern night sky, resulting in an ultra-wide, ultra-high-def time-lapse record of the universe—the greatest movie about the universe ever produced.
The 3,200-megapixel, 6,700-pound beast of a machine was built at Stanford University’s SLAC National Accelerator Laboratory. Lopez, a SLAC engineer, began on the project at 21 as her first engineering gig. As a member of the LSST integration and test team for the last decade, she has worked on everything from troubleshooting how to keep the extremely temperature-sensitive camera sensors cool by constructing coolant lines that climb the length of the telescope to where the LSST camera is mounted; to developing robotic tools to put together the camera, which had high-level assembly requirements; and performing what she calls “pathfinding” on a test version of the camera she helped build to ensure that when the real deal showed up in the Andes, it worked.
Perhaps as daunting as those objectives were the logistics Lopez was tasked with: safely packing and shipping a car-sized camera—with a $168 million price tag—from California to Chile.
“I started planning shipment in 2019,” Lopez says of the LSST, which arrived in Chile in 2024. “We chartered a 747 and added 50 metric tons of support equipment. I was in charge of all of this: talking to the trucking company, the airline, the people doing the loading, the people packing. That was a wild process: how do you get a fully built instrument
from the U.S. to Chile on a custom vibration isolation system with custom procedures to get it in and out of the container, and to control the process of loading and unloading the plane? It was a lot of pressure.”
So, too, was getting the LSST from the maintenance area in the observatory where it was lying in wait to get hitched to the telescope, a feat possible thanks to a sophisticated lift system.
“Finding anything interesting in space is really hard,” Lopez says. “The universe is huge and interesting, so if you have a small field of view, the chances that you [find] something are pretty low. It’s a needle in a haystack problem. Our solution is to gather millions and millions of haystacks of data.”
In its first year, Lopez says the LSST will collect more data than every other telescope in history has ever collected … combined. “We’re going to be doing that for 10 years,” she says. She cites the Sloan Digital Sky Survey, which operated out of New Mexico’s Apache Point Observatory. “That survey took 20 terabytes of data in 10 years,” she says. “We are taking 20 terabytes of data per night.”
Ever the St. Andrean, one of the aspects of LSST Lopez is most excited about is access. “I think it’s very cool that this data will be more open for access than most other observatories,” she says.
The data will be available to professional astronomers and students affiliated with institutions in the U.S., Chile, and other international programs, then become fully public after a two-year proprietary period.
LSST’s “First Light”—the first evening of scanning—is scheduled for July 4. “There’s this interesting vibe at the
observatory right now where all the engineers are saying, ‘Oh my gosh, we are so excited for this thing to be done,’ and all the astronomers are saying, ‘Oh my gosh, we are so excited for this project to start,’” Lopez says, laughing.
Lopez, who moved to Chile in 2020 but in 2023 moved back to the States, will visit Vera Rubin for repairs once the camera is fully operational.
When she thinks about her first few months in Chile, she thinks about St. Andrew’s. “It’s hard to move to a new country, by yourself, and not speak the language,” she says. “But the confidence St. Andrew’s created in me, this sense of independence and the ability to exist on my own and create community, helped.”
She also spent time reflecting on her Senior Exhibition, which she did on Chilean-American writer Isabel Allende’s House of the Spirits. “The book never specifically mentions Chile, but the events mirror the country’s dictatorship past. When I got here, I was like, ‘Wow, this thing that I spent a long time thinking about at St. Andrew’s happened in a real place, and that place is Chile, and there are museum exhibits and stories about it.’”
The LSST project itself mirrors the intellectual curiosity St. Andrew’s urges. “Essentially this is a project about curiosity,” Lopez says. “Humans have always wanted to travel to the highest mountain, go across the ocean, know more. This is the modern-day frontier, and I can’t wait to see what it discovers.” •
Lopez, right, disconnects the camera from its shipping frame in preparation for a lift. (Oliver Bonin / SLAC National Lab)
Lopez, left, and her crew in the cockpit of the Boeing 747-freighter that was used to ship the LSST Camera—and 50 metric tons of support equipment—from California to Chile. (Travis Lange / SLAC National Lab)
Lopez, foreground, helps ready the camera to roll into the observatory’s “clean room” inside the maintenance area. (Oliver Bonin / SLAC National Lab)
Lopez at the observatory. (Jeff Tice / SLAC National Lab)
E N G I N E E R I N G
Marcia, I imagine you were very often the only woman or one of few in a surgical room early in your career.
MARCIA: That was certainly true. In fact, and I am sure this would absolutely shock everyone that knew me at St. Andrew’s, but I may have been drawn to surgery because a number of people told me that I couldn’t do it. There was a sense of being a pathfinder, and that was exciting. I also appreciated the fact that I’m kind of a perfectionist, and something I enjoy in surgery is a defined problem, one that has a solution, a beginning date, and an end date.
Annie, you work in the medical space, too. I tried to read some of your Ph.D. work on 3D printed heart simulators and quickly admitted defeat.
ANNIE: That’s funny. Not solely the medical space, but I do work with a lot of startups doing biomedical devices. I have always loved learning about different fields. I don’t like being hemmed in to just one specialty. Working on patents for startup clients inherently means I need to meet with people who are in fields that I don’t know much about and I have to quickly get up to speed. That was one thing that sold me on this job: the depth and breadth of your knowledge eventually gets absolutely insane. My boss knows everything about everything, and I want to have that. You get that over many years of working in patent law because you have to learn enough to write a patent. I have to know enough that I can draft 40 pages. I know what questions to ask. A big part of what’s helped me from St. Andrew’s is having the confidence to know that I am smart enough to be here.
What kind of products have you helped bring to market?
ANNIE: Since we work with startups, many are in stealth, so I’m not able to talk about them, but I’ve worked on neural implants, and a miniature machine for glucose monitoring. Obviously, in the Bay Area where I am, there’re a ton of AI and [machine learning] startups. We also have food scientists making very interesting vegan things.
How does SAS still show up in your lives?
MARCIA: St. Andrew’s reverberates in my life because of the impact I’ve seen on Annie and Will [Imbrie-Moore ’17]. I knew St. Andrew’s in my time. But what I’ve seen since is an enormous amount of growth in terms of building really good people and attracting students who are incredibly bright and incredibly kind. I have seen through Annie and Will aspects that I want to take credit for, but in reality, we owe a lot to St. Andrew’s.
ANNIE: St. Andrew’s did an incredible job of building community. The best thing you can do when things are hard is build community. Help people when you can, and they will help you. That’s an impactful skill from St. Andrew’s that changed my life. •
M E D I C I N E
Gail Wright ’84
There is a throughline to the life of Dr. Gail Wright ’84—a yearning for people to pause and to return to curiosity, to stillness, and to wonder. “If you fast-forward my life from 1984 to today, to what I’m teaching now and what has come before, I think you’ll see a sense of awe and curiosity has always been what drives me,” says Wright, a pediatric cardiologist with Santa Clara Valley Medical Center in San Jose.
Wright grew up on an Eastern Shore dairy farm. Her father overcame learning difficulties, her mother was a teacher, and both prioritized education. The local high school did not offer the academics Wright sought, so she came to St. Andrew’s. “I didn’t want to go,” she says. “My first year, I was so homesick, even though I loved the school.” She settled in her second year, minding her mental health by shooting free-throw after freethrow in the gym. “I spent every spare minute in that gym,” she says. When she wasn’t dreaming of being in the NBA, she was busy falling in love with the natural world, thanks to the impassioned teaching of science instructor Bill Amos. “I thought I wanted to be a marine biologist or a wildlife ecologist,” says Wright. Now, her home, not far from the Pacific, keeps her steeped in the lore of the ocean. “My love of exploring and asking scientific questions came alive at St. Andrew’s, and has endured,” she says. “The other themes of the school that have been threads throughout my life are community and collective action.”
Wright’s initial desire toward science and the natural world turned to medicine; she obtained her M.D. in 1992. Her first job was on the Navajo Nation in the Colorado Plateau, where she did a rotation in 1990 before returning after graduation. Wright considers the decision to join the Public Health Service rather than entering academia “bold.”
“There are many moments in my life that are an example of me not trying to be strategic,” she says. “There are things we need to plan, and then there’s this beautiful way where the current of our lives, or the greater energy in the world, brings us opportunities and invisible help.”
The Navajo philosophy of harmony further shaped her worldview. “Part of the basic theology is we’re all one, and this has stayed with me,” she says. “The doctors I worked with
were happy. They had time with their kids, to mountain bike, and they felt like they were of great service impacting 16,000 kids. I was like, ‘I want to do that.’” She became chief of pediatrics and stayed for four years before returning to school to train in pediatric cardiology and pediatric critical care. “I wanted to take care of the kids who were sicker,” she says.
Wright, who says it wasn’t until later in life that she realized one of her gifts was to “look further ahead” than others, channeled her innovative spirit into developing the Stanford Home Monitoring Program while working at Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital Stanford. The program, which Wright conceived of and shared with a national alliance of 67 children’s hospitals—a network she spearheaded—saved kids’ lives. The program’s toolkit includes lifesaving pieces of equipment that parents can use on their children after they undergo the Norwood procedure, an intervention performed on infants who have underdeveloped left ventricles. Thanks to her efforts, the survival rate of these children went from 85 to 98 percent.
“My skin in the game was getting people to collaborate, like, ‘We want to share it with you to save the lives of kids,’” she says. “I didn’t do it in the spirit of true discovery; I was not Mr. Amos looking under a log. I did it to inspire systems change. And it worked. I had kids that when I started my career, used to die when they were 6 weeks old, that now were 12 in my clinic.”
The challenges of caring for children with chronic heart conditions led her to explore mindfulness practices. “These kids have a lot of anxiety,” says Wright. “So what can I give them to do at home?” She researched evidence-based practices of mindfulness, and now employs them in her practice.
After seeing how the power of mindfulness inspired her patients, she wanted to share it with others, so in 2020, she founded Redwood Resilience, a holistic mentoring program for clinicians, patients, athletes, writers, parents, youth community leaders, and more. Wright offers a wellness and professional development workshop series for healthcare teams and organizations, wellness retreats, yoga, and reflective writing courses.
“Redwood Resilience was born out of disruption in my academic setting, and disruption in the greater world,” she says. “I did some deep inquiry of what I really like to do. And along all the twisting and turning paths, it was always right next to me. I have a tiny little card that I got as a medical student. It probably cost .99 cents. It says, ‘Follow your bliss.’”
Wright’s Redwood Resilience work emphasizes communication and, particularly, collaboration. “Some of us at any given time feel like we carry it alone. So we ask, ‘How may I bring forward interconnection?’” she says. “That collectively we can be of service to make things better for each other is a deeply embedded St. Andrew’s concept.” •
Hammond says. “And it wasn’t until we both went to some local alumni event and I was like, ‘Wait a minute, you went to St. Andrew’s?’”
M E D I C I N E
Sarah Hammond ’92
After graduating from St. Andrew’s, Dr. Sarah Hammond ’92 entered another year of boarding school, this time in England, which provided her a fascinating take on how the British do education. “There, you turn 16, and you pick your three or four subjects that you study for two years, which will then determine how you apply to college because you have to apply for your major,” she says. “But since I was just over there for one year, I could pick whatever classes I wanted.” With St. Andrew’s culture and education in mind, she chose math, English, and biology, much to the concern of her new English classmates.
“They were like, ‘What are you doing? You can’t go to university with those three things,’ and I was like, ‘What are you talking about?’” Hammond says. “I had this good friend who wanted to go to medical school, so she was doing physics, chemistry, and biology, and my response was, but you don’t read anything. Not a single novel.” Hammond understood the value of the sciences and humanities thanks to discourse at St. Andrew’s and felt it was important to balance the two on her way to medical school.
The balance did precisely what she thought it would—added deeper perspective to her work in the sciences. A chemistry and religion double major, Hammond was asked to take part in a writing tutor program. “The university needed writing tutors specifically in the sciences,” she says. “I remember when I started doing it, my thesis advisor, who taught my chemistry courses, told me, ‘Yes, this makes sense. When we read your lab reports, we can tell by the writing that you have a different major.’” She went on to earn an M.D. at Vanderbilt, did her residency at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, and a combined fellowship between Beth Israel, Deaconess Hospital, and Brigham and Women’s Hospital in infectious diseases with a focus on transplant and oncology infectious diseases.
“When I was working at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, I would overlap with this one palliative care doctor,”
Hammond is no stranger to St. Andrew’s connections— the school is a bit of a tradition for her family. Consider her father’s alumni string: Edward H. Hammond Jr. ’60 P’86,’89,’92 GP’21,’21,’27. “My father thought the school made him who he was in a lot of ways,” she says. “It helped me become who I was, too, because of the quality of the education, the learning across disciplines, and your friend and peer groups are just so strong. My values were also really shaped by the school.”
Hammond, now the director of hematology/oncology infectious diseases at Massachusetts General Hospital, found her way to her specialty after first considering pulmonary critical care and other areas of medicine. “There was a whole iteration where I was interested in surgery, but I decided I was more of a cerebral person who wanted to do internal medicine instead,” she says. As a fourth-year medical student, she was exposed to the field of infectious disease. “I had always liked microbiology,” she says. “The attending doctor who was leading the rotation told me I should consider the field because he thought I seemed really detail-oriented. I took that to heart and he was right.”
A particularly challenging case cemented her specialization in transplant and oncology infectious diseases. “I saw this one patient when I was in my second year of residency with this very difficult fungal infection,” she says. “And there was this very inspiring young attending in infectious diseases who knew so much about it and came in and saved the day, and I was hooked.” That young attending became her mentor, Dr. Francisco Marty, recognized as an innovator in the field of infectious disease.
A clinician by trade, Hammond spends most of her time seeing patients, but she has a research “side gig” to her clinical work. Her research is focused on optimizing care for patients with complex infections, particularly those with cancer. “I sort of try and define when the infections happen, how they happen, how we can best protect people,” she says. The emergence of bispecific antibodies, a novel therapy for multiple myeloma, a type of blood cancer, presented new challenges and opportunities for her research. “They come with a high infection risk, so you’re trading one thing for another,” she says. Due to her specific interest in fungal infections—which are rare, but common in patients like hers who present with blood cancers—she’s also running clinical trials of new antifungals.
“I’m really motivated by my patients to do this work,” she says. “I am a problem-solver. I like seeing patients, trying to sort out what’s wrong, and working to figure out better treatments to better define infection risks so we can prevent it.”•
L AW
Halimah DeLaine Prado ’93
During an Advanced American History class her senior year at St. Andrew’s, Halimah DeLaine Prado ’93 learned about the inception of the Supreme Court, and was charged with writing a legal brief and arguing in front of her peers. The result of that exercise was a “brain on fire and hurting in a really, really good way,” DeLaine Prado says. Now the first woman of color to serve as Google’s general counsel, DeLaine Prado considers this classroom moment as the one that further hooked her on the law. “Yes, this is what I want,” she says she remembers thinking.
We spent an afternoon sitting down with DeLaine Prado, across the table of a Silicon Valley conference room (virtually, that is). We talked about entering St. Andrew’s as a new sophomore, her front-row experience to the first Frosty Run ever, the “North Star” of St. Andrew’s, and how she “thoughtfully and authentically” leads the legal department of a global internet giant.
What comes to mind when you think about your St. Andrew’s experience?
It was a pretty impactful, formative experience for me. I think anytime a teenager decides to embark on boarding school, it’s a fairly big deal. You’re sort of taking that step of independence that typically folks think of happening when you enter college. For me, having the experience of being independent, taking charge of how I approached my academic journey, being able to live in a community in a really unique and frankly stunningly gorgeous environment, it was pretty awesome. A lot of the experiences that I had during my three years there have definitely shaped how I’ve approached new experiences, be it personal or professional.
You came to St. Andrew’s as a IV former. What was that like?
Entering as a IV former is challenging, right? You’re coming in after a full year of your classmates having had a chance to bond. There was a weird sense of catching up. You feel a little bit on the fringe or kind of nervous. But what I found is, that [feeling] disappeared fairly quickly. The school did a phenomenal job of embracing the IV formers, and I felt that very acutely. About two months into my [IV Form year], I broke my leg, which one might call a tough situation … I had to go home for a week and a half. And then I came back to school on crutches, in a wheelchair. And what struck me was how truly the entire community made space for me to
“I think probably the most important thing [I experienced] is the comfort of trying new things and the comfort to fail and not have it work out and keep it moving.”
operate through campus, to check in on how I was doing. For me, that IV Form year was this wonderful sort of “aha” moment, that “Oh, right, this place is special. This place is a community.”
Do you have any other experiences that you feel particularly connected to from your time at St. Andrew’s?
This is super silly, but the year that I was there was the first year of the Frosty Run. T-shirts were made and it was this massive event to watch the school … have an experience completely rooted in fun, but [everyone was] all in. There was a purity in that. There was a wonderful sense of excitement in that which I always loved. In terms of individual experiences … My senior year, [former English teacher and Associate Head of School Will] Speers had suggested, “What would a perfect English class look like for you?” I said, “I want to read a book once a week and then talk to somebody about it.” He said, “Okay.” And then he set that up for me. I sat in his office, he would give me a book. My goal was to read it, come up with an essay, and produce it. We would sit and have that conversation. That was my English class for half of senior year. What was amazing about that is that anything was possible, you just merely had to ask.
How did you begin developing as a leader at St. Andrew’s?
I think probably the most important thing [I experienced] is the comfort of trying new things and the comfort to fail and not have it work out and keep it moving. That’s been pivotal. I applied to St. Andrew’s for my freshman year and I didn’t get in. They encouraged me to apply the next year. And even my entry into St. Andrew’s as a 10th grader was a pivotal experience for me because it taught me to go after
what I want, even if I don’t get it in the first instance. If you are leading now, there is no example of being a leader who is always batting a thousand. It doesn’t exist. And so being able to lead others, to make decisions that embrace a growth mindset with failure and development is critical. I can very much attribute that mindset to my earlier days at school.
As Google’s general counsel, what is it like to work on cases that have such a large impact on the ways that we navigate emerging technologies?
It’s a huge responsibility at the outset, leading a very large global legal team that’s helping Google launch its products and keeping them running responsibly. I don’t take that lightly. It’s humbling, to be honest, and I look at each day as a privilege, but one in which it’s important to authentically and thoughtfully lead, take the responsibility seriously, be very open and honest about that, and guide the folks on my team to do the same.
What advice do you have for soon-to-be St. Andrew’s graduates, who are leaving a mostly phone-free environment for a world where technology abounds?
You’re going to have a North Star: the principles behind St. Andrew’s and the notion of faith and learning and how you show up to the community. Those principles remain true even when you walk out of Middletown and go into whatever next chapter of your world, whether that’s with a phone in hand, a computer with AI, or what have you. Really staying true to those principles of stewardship, curiosity, challenge, opportunity, and applying that into your every day. Don’t lose sight of that. That helps you step forth into something that is new or different with a bit more intention and a bit more openness. •
This piece, written by Tara Lennon, first appeared on the St. Andrew’s website. It is reprinted here with the permission of Halimah DeLaine Prado.
FA S H I O N
Alexandra Sargent Capps ’85
“Be freer with the clay, Alex. Be freer with the clay.”
Alexandra Sargent Capps ’85 can still hear the voice of St. Andrew’s ceramics instructor Marijke van Buchem P’89. It’s become a daily mantra, a reminder to embrace experimentation and not fear failure. “She would say, ‘You all want to make perfect things in a controlled process. My goal is to free you up,’” remembers Capps, who says she “lived” in the St. Andrew’s pottery studio. Something about the unpredictable magic of the kiln spoke to her. “You never knew how the glaze was going to turn out, because Mrs. van Buchem was an alchemist, always trying out new formulas,” she says. “I think that lent a lot to my interest embracing artistic experimentation.”
“Trying things” is what Capps does in her quest to raise working with fabrics above the ordinary, with a focus on revolutionizing sustainable and adaptive fashion as director of the Fiber Arts Build (FAB) Lab at Vanderbilt University’s Wond’ry Center for Innovation. “Innovation labs are trending,” Capps says. “What’s unusual about ours is the dynamic combination of practice areas: making, entrepreneurship, social innovation, and innovation and design strategy.”
She landed at The Wond’ry after a 20-year career as Vanderbilt’s Theatre Department costume designer, a role in which Capps was often grateful for English instructor and former Associate Head of School Will Speers P’07,’09,’13.
“He taught me how to carefully read and analyze text,” she says. “When designing costumes, accurately interpreting plays is critical in conceptualizing theme-based approaches.”
Now Capps spends most days dreaming up what can she and her students can design to help change the world.
“A goal of the Wond’ry is to allow people to fail and make mistakes in developing ideas,” she says. “Making prototypes means you’ve got to make something, try it out, find out what doesn’t work, and start again as part of the humancentered design process.” Human-centered design, she says, is a problem-solving process that puts people at the center.
“It’s a five-step process used for people across disciplines to collaborate, and includes empathize, define, ideate, prototype, and test.”
She enjoys walking through that process with her students. “There’s an interest among young people in working with their hands,” Capps says. “I think we’re looking at a revolution in people trying to balance their use of technology. My students recognize that [technology] can
leave them unfulfilled, making them eager to connect with tangible things.”
Capps is in the “prototype” stage with fellow Saint Daphne (Edmundson) McCabe ’85, Capps’ SAS roommate. McCabe, who works in Colorado public health, partners with Family Connects, a national agency that seeks to support American mothers in their first six weeks postpartum. The two Saints have teamed up to design a multifunctional garment that will be provided to new moms across the country. This garment, a cape, is designed with the needs of new mothers in mind, based on a series of interviews. Capps’ students have considered everything from the color and fabric, to the garment’s transformative nature—it can quickly become a blanket to protect or nurse.
Although she can’t talk about it publicly, Capps is currently working with a team of Vanderbilt engineers on a government project. She was also recently awarded a Vanderbilt Catalyst Grant for her work with surgeons and an occupational therapist to create gloves that will stabilize hands post-surgery. Some of her favorite projects are adaptive design challenges to serve people with physical disabilities, including making a customized bag for a neurodivergent young woman who requires a wheelchair.
Capps has always had an eye toward innovation. Blame it on her namesake—she is named for her great-grandfather, Alexander Pierce Anderson, an artist and inventor who dazzled attendees at the 1904 St. Louis World Fair when he debuted his “puffed rice,” which he created by loading small “cannons” with raw rice, applying heat, and shooting out the transformed food. A few years later, the Quaker Oats Company started selling the puffed rice as a breakfast cereal.
“Because I have his name, the idea of inventing has always been something I have felt drawn to,” Capps says.
Yet the process of inventing has surprised her, particularly when it comes to unexpected collaborations. “What exhausts, but inspires and surprises me, are all of these collaborative opportunities,” she says. One such opportunity has sent her to Helsinki, Finland, to work with an international group of teachers and students in ways that engage young people on the topic of climate change.
“It’s particularly important for the fashion industry to be talking about this because of how terrible fast fashion is for the planet,” she says. The Helsinki projects, speakers, and outings include ideating around making fabric dinosaurs, which are invoked in the sustainability movement due to the species’ inability to adapt to changes in climate. “Never could I have imagined I was going to use my skills to go to Helsinki and work on a dinosaur project aimed at educating about climate change.”
She’s being freer with the clay. •
Alexandra Sargent Capps ’85 with Marijke van Buchem P’89
M I L I TA RY
Sarah Abbott ’99
Recently, the daughter of Sarah Abbott ’99 drew her a picture. “It was like, ‘What mom used to do,’ and it’s me flying a jet aircraft, and then it’s, ‘What mom does now,’ and it’s me typing at the computer,” she says, laughing. Abbott, currently a program manager for Naval Air Systems Command in Patuxent River, Md., is a 2003 graduate of the United States Naval Academy and a 2005 graduate of Stanford University, where she earned a master’s in aeronautics and astronautics. She became a naval aviator in 2007 and was the first woman in her F/A-18 squadron before she became a test pilot. She’s logged almost 2,000 miles in 31 different aircraft, flown in multiple combat operations, and earned two Meritorious Service Medals.
“While I was the first woman aviator in the squadron— the first woman running around in a flight suit—there were plenty of women working on the flight line and in the hangar,” she says. “So aviation squadrons, we do our own maintenance, and there’s 250 people in that squadron, and a couple hundred of them are out there working on jets every day. There were many women. They had just never seen a woman flying the plane.”
The day of Abbott’s first flight, she noticed something—a lot of women watching. “They had organized their schedule so they could launch me,” she says. “I was happy to be able to represent. Some of them came to talk to me like, ‘I can be a pilot, too?’ Yes, you can be a pilot. You should see yourself in this role.”
She was drawn to aviation because she liked “hard, cool, fast stuff”—although having a grandmother who served in World War II inspired her, too. “At a certain point, you realize you like friction experiences and you’re activated through challenges, and I’ve leaned into that,” Abbott says. “There’s a part of me where if it’s not hard, it is just not the right thing for me.”
Her most exhilarating experience? “Launching off an aircraft carrier,” she says. “I did that over and over and over
again, but it is still the best feeling in the world, especially on a beautiful sunny day. Just imagine you’re somewhere around the middle of the Pacific. You get to launch off the front of this floating island aircraft-carrier home and go out and bend around a really capable combat aircraft. That’s the fun part. The rewarding part is directly supporting troops in combat.”
While she misses the visceral thrill of flying, Abbott acknowledges the trade-offs. “Flying is awesome. Flights are what we live for,” she says. “I think what people don’t realize is you spend hours ahead of that flight getting ready for it. You spend hours afterwards debriefing. Some missions are six to eight hours in an ejection seat. There’s a lot of physical and life things that are better now. I get to see my kids at night, be here for my family, not to mention my back and neck feel great from not sitting in that seat.”
As a program manager, she’s responsible for developing, acquiring, and sustaining weapons specific to carrier-based use on naval aircraft. Instead of skies, she now spends her days navigating budgets, contracts, and stakeholder viewpoints, but the work is far from mundane. “I love it,” she says. “But you have to love getting in the scrum with a bunch of people with different opinions and stakeholder viewpoints.” From contracts teams to financial overseers, test teams to vendors, and fleet stakeholders to war fighters, Abbott helps orchestrate a symphony of competing interests.
She feels her pull to service began at St. Andrew’s. “St. Andrew’s lays a foundation for its students to be drawn to a life of service,” she says. “I specifically wound up at the Naval Academy because of St. Andrew’s. I never was super profit-motivated, to be honest. I find it really powerful to be serving our war fighters out there, supporting the fleet, and trying to make the right things happen for U.S. national security interests. I am motivated to serve my country, to serve the sailors out there who are deployed every day, and I’ve stayed over and over because of that.”
“St. Andrew’s lays a foundation for its students to be drawn to a life of service.”
As a mother of two children, Abbott finds herself often thinking about St. Andrew’s through the lens of a parent. “I’m thankful that St. Andrew’s is there and thriving as a place, like [Head of School] Joy [McGrath ’92] says, where my kids could go and still be kids,” she says. “It’s wonderful to think about one day possibly sharing that experience with them. To continue to be a part of this community, this family, has been very rewarding for me.” •
O’Shaughnessy’s freshman year was but five removed from the onset of coeducation at SAS, but she says the significance of being among the first women didn’t quite register. “I only knew it as coed,” she says. “I didn’t really think too much about how I was on the heels of that historic
mark. I was just very grateful toward St. Andrew’s and what
What truly resonated and formed the connective tissue that endures to this day, says O’Shaughnessy, was her community. “It’s such a cliché,” she says, “but it’s just such a formidable time in terms of the relationships you make.” She recalls strong teachers, dedicated coaches, and the enduring impact of Dr. John Garrick, her English teacher. ‘Read, Mary, read,’ she says,
So supported was she by her community, in fact, that together, they made history. She says her decision to run for class president was not so much driven by a burning ambition but by a desire to inspire change. “I wanted to contribute to
It wasn’t a platform about gender; it was one of unity. Her parents had instilled in her a sense of limitless possibility, and she carried that spirit into her leadership role. “I was a scrappy kid from Pennsylvania who grew up in a house
The election itself was a quiet affair. “It was a simple announcement in the Dining Hall,” she says. “I don’t remember too much except that I was psyched, and that I won. It felt really good.” There was “no sense of breaking barriers,” she says. Just a quiet determination to do her best. Her tenure as president was marked by small moments, like announcements at dinnertime, and big ones, like the challenges of navigating leadership as a teenager. “I know I didn’t get everything right,” she says. “But also, when I think
Her commencement speech, however, stands out. She remembers beginning with a nod to women’s liberation, then acknowledged the impossibility of summarizing such complex ideas in 10 minutes. “Then I just spoke about graduation and the idea of how much uncertainty we felt, of having to go out and navigate the world,” she says. “I couldn’t offer much
O’Shaughnessy emphasizes the support she received from her coaches, like Betsy Bacher, who, after O’Shaughnessy broke her nose during a field hockey game, woke her up every two hours to ensure she was okay. Former Head of School Jon O’Brien P’84 GP’15,’17,’19,’22 made her feel “heard” and “valued.” “I had such a wonderful English teacher in Will Speers,” she says. A love of writing nurtured in his class has been instrumental in her longtime career as an educator in New Hampshire, where she lives.
Her advice to current St. Andrew’s women echoes her own experience: “Don’t ever feel inhibited,” she says. “And seek out those people who will support you, and don’t let anyone stop you. We all need to look out for each other.” •
S C H O O L
L E A D E R S H I P
Joy McGrath ’92
In her fourth year as head of school, Joy McGrath ’92 is making her mark on St. Andrew’s—a place that has shaped her path as a leader, thinker, and person. As the first graduate to lead the school, she brings her own history to the role— she has been the director of advancement, an English teacher, and a legendary advisor and dorm parent—while staying laser-focused on what the school needs to thrive in a new era.
It is no surprise that McGrath has brought a new style to the head of school role while keeping St. Andrew’s core values and mission close to her heart. After an unlikely series of events saw her touring St. Andrew’s after admission season was over, Joan O’Brien found a bed and a scholarship for her in the summer after her sophomore year at the public school in nearby Smyrna, Del. At St. Andrew’s, she was taught by and hired to the faculty by Tad Roach, the fourth head of school, who remains a mentor and a friend. “Reading and education were always foundational in my family and upbringing, but St. Andrew’s has been formative in my understanding of what an education is for and how it can transform a life,” McGrath says.
She also brings a wealth of experience from fourteen years in leadership roles at Yale, culminating as the chief of staff to the president of the university. Beginning at Yale in the run-up to the 2008 world economic crisis and ending as the lead on the university’s COVID response, McGrath had a
front-row seat to many of the challenges faced by educational institutions over the past two decades.
From these experiences she has developed a simple framework for her role as a leader: “A leader really needs to do three things. She has to articulate a vision, not only for this month or year but for the future, for the next hundred years. My vision will always be guided by St. Andrew’s commitment to financial aid, our focus on character and human formation, and our Episcopal identity.
“Second, a leader needs to assemble the right team because no one, no one, can run an organization on their own. Schools, in particular, are a team sport. Our faculty are so crucial to do what we do here, but it’s throughout the organization. From the grounds crew to the front office, we have to be ‘all in’ on St. Andrew’s mission.
“And then, of course, you need resources to make it all possible. One of my most critical jobs is making sure we have the financial resources to meet the demands of this moment and grow into the future,” McGrath says.
To that end, she has restructured and resourced the leadership team to provide more support directly to students and faculty and has worked to expand resources for strategic priorities such as faculty compensation, financial aid, and student life and athletics. She has worked with the leadership team to implement new systems that will enable more data-
SA S FI RS T
“Schools, in particular, are a team sport. Our faculty are so crucial to do what we do here, but it’s throughout the organization. From the grounds crew to the front office, we have to be ‘all in’ on St. Andrew’s mission.”
driven decision-making. Two major studies this year—one to determine the condition of the school’s historic and extensive physical plant, and another to help steer the course toward a philanthropy-based financial model—will help her, faculty leaders, and the board of trustees shape the school’s future.
These changes are all in the service of keeping St. Andrew’s approach to education—the education of the whole student—a globally recognized strength, even in a time of immense change and often confusion about what young people need.
“We show up for students,” McGrath emphasizes. “We notice them and care about them, and this builds trust. We can only do what we do here by nurturing the incredibly special culture of trust between faculty and students.”
McGrath herself is often noted for showing up at every meal in the dining hall. Along with her husband Ty Jones ’92, she is a fixture on the sidelines of athletic contests, in the theater, and at school events, large and small. And you’re sure to see her sitting in “her” pew in the chapel. “It’s telling that you never see Joy in the chair at the head of the table at a family-style meal—she sits in the middle, so she can connect with each student,” comments Will Robinson ’97, dean of admission. “She sets the tone, and we all see that.”
McGrath points to new investments in the chapel program and the school’s Episcopal identity, clarity around the role of nonpartisanship and free expression in the education of
students, a renewed commitment to reading whole books in the curriculum, playing multiple sports, and a largely cell phone-free life on campus as distinct strengths. But she knows they will require significant leadership and resources to safeguard, especially against cultural headwinds.
“We can provide data and studies that show these things are essential to the moral formation of children—the ability to ask any question and test their ideas, the centrality of play and face-to-face culture, attention to spiritual life, ritual, and structure,” McGrath says. “But we also must be guided by principles—to be a school where adults are willing to model and maintain a standard, so that our students can learn to do hard things. That’s part of what leadership means to me, but it is also what we need to do, together, as a St. Andrew’s community—to come together and say, ‘These practices are important, they are right, and we value them,’ even when that’s not fashionable.” •
Class notes have been removed from the online version of the Magazine in order to protect the privacy of our alums.
Class notes have been removed from the online version of the Magazine in order to protect the privacy of our alums.
TRUSTEE’S CORNER
STORY CONTINUED FROM PAGE 13
is an exceptional leader for St. Andrew’s in this moment, holding the fort in an unflinching way as the school moves through this turbulent period.”
For Durham, there are two key areas of focus as a trustee: resources and the humanities. “How do we resource St. Andrew’s properly, both financially and structurally, so that it can continue to serve its mission, to build young people up, to be this place of verities?” he says. “I think you easily become complacent about this. It’s simple to think, ‘Oh, it’s just a given. That place will always be there.’ Not necessarily. St. Andrew’s is not properly resourced at the moment— but we can get there.”
Equally important to Durham is the preservation of the humanities in an increasingly technology-driven world. “This is not just a St. Andrew’s challenge, it’s a life challenge,” he says. “As society continues to evolve, as humans continue to evolve, as technology continues to weigh on us, we must make sure that the humanities writ large are still part and parcel of the daily thought process of St. Andrew’s students. We must not lose sight of that.” •
MAKI N G TH E I R MAR
every level of educational decision-making in order to live our mission, including the leadership structures necessary to best support students, faculty, and staff.”
Furlonge has her eyes continuously cast to the future of independent schools. “When we think about the next 50 years, what do the organizational structures need to look like to support and sustain everything at present and what’s to come?” she says. “In educational leadership, we often talk about leadership not being a solo endeavor, which is something I learned as a kid at St. Andrew’s. Whether as a residential leader on Moss dorm, in seminar discussion, or at sitdown dinner, I learned how to lead in community and through dialogue.”
As she steps into her new role, she keeps close to the lessons Gilheany and others helped her learn: relationships are transformative. “Human connection is more important than ever,” she says. “I think that’s what I learned the most at St. Andrew’s, that holistic experience of living and learning in community at a place where I, too, could shape it. I learned that my identity as a scholar, a roommate, an athlete, a friend, a first-generation American … I could bring all of who I was to bear in my schoolwork and in how I lived and showed up. I could make the community better simply by engaging actively in it. That’s not always the case, unfortunately, in educational environments. Schools are, and should be, human-centered places. That’s what we work for.” •
WE
TO HEAR FROM
We hope you’ll share any news from the small to the large— including news of your recent alumni meetups (including virtual gatherings!); job changes and professional achievements; recent
www.standrews-de.org/connect
Class notes have been removed from the online version of the Magazine in order to protect the privacy of our alums.
In Memory
ALUMNI REMEMBRANCES
1953
RICHARD R. SCHULZE
Bluffton, SC
January 5, 2025
Upon awarding Richard “Dick” Schulze ’53 the Distinguished Alumnus Award in 2018, then-Head of School Tad Roach P’04,’07,’13,’18 said:
“As one of the most brilliant and successful physicians in St. Andrew’s history, Dick found his intellectual, moral, ethical, and athletic foundation at St. Andrew’s. He was described by Walden Pell as the ‘student who has made as much of his opportunities here as any student who has entered St. Andrew’s.’”
Dick graduated cum laude from Princeton, then went on to Johns Hopkins before he began a year’s fellowship in ocular pathology at Moorfields Eye Hospital in London. For 45 years, he practiced as an ophthalmologist until his retirement in 2010. In a time of rapidly evolving technology, Dick was consistently at the forefront of innovation in cataract surgery. A brilliant surgeon, he was the first in Georgia to perform phacoemulsification for cataract surgery and the first Georgia surgeon to implant an intraocular lens.
Dick will also be remembered for his agrarian accomplishment, reintroducing Carolina Gold rice in the mid-1980s in the Carolina Lowcountry, where it had not been grown since the 1920s, a feat which was recorded in The New York Times, and about which Dick later wrote a book, Carolina Gold Rice: The Ebb and Flow History of a Lowcountry Cash Crop.
Dick was also a sportsman who traveled the world pursuing his passion for bird hunting. Closer to home at his Hoover Plantation, his training in biology (sparked by Bill Amos) prepared him to manage thousands of acres of piney woods and fields for dove and quail hunting. Dick’s other interests
included vintage race cars and highperformance boats.
St. Andreans will also remember Dick’s poignant Founders Day Chapel talk in December of 2018, in which he recalled the gift of faith and learning that he was given by Walden Pell, Bill Amos and others.—COMPILED BY CHESA PROFACI ’80
1954
IAN C. MacINNES
Goodyear, AZ
October 16, 2024
“Ian MacInnes was my roommate, senior prefect, and a pal of deep common sense, responsibility, and integrity for all of us in the Class of 1954. He radiated sensibility and maturity when many of us were still emerging from boyhood. In our class, he was the quiet man when we needed quiet, the thoughtful man when we needed brains, and the lead man when we needed leadership, a pillar of strength.
“He was a natural for that role, born during the 1930s at St. Andrew’s when his father, John MacInnes, was No. 2 on the faculty, behind Walden Pell. Ian was sobered by WWII, during which his dad commanded a U.S. Navy destroyer in combat, and then later returned to his post at St. Andrew’s. Ian, aka ‘Igor,’ had a sense of humor that helped him through SAS. He was a reserve on a football team that lost all its games, but he could laugh about it. In Sacred Studies, he extended his revelations by dozing, which once produced this:
Faculty member Jim Reynolds: ‘Mr. MacInnes, are you sleeping?’
Igor: ‘No Sir, I was praying!’
Reynolds: ‘Well don’t snore while you pray!’
“He once left an opened bottle of cider in our closet. After weeks it predictably exploded, riddling our clothes. Igor’s take: ‘Not to worry, roommates! Must have been a stray artillery shell.’
“After Brown University, Ian married his sweet Garnett, had a long
career with AT&T in California and Arizona, and came to our reunions often, brimming with common sense, integrity, and always a laugh. God bless you, partner. We will all miss you beyond words.”—CHURCH HUTTON ’54 P’97,’01,’04
DAVID PEARCE CAMPBELL Richmond, VA November 28, 2024
David died on Thanksgiving Day surrounded by his family in Virginia. His last SAS exchange was related to the virtual Veterans Day Zoom, just a couple of weeks earlier, which he could not attend but appreciated the school doing. “St. Andrew’s prepared me well for seven years in the U.S. Navy, where I served on the Atlantic fleet destroyer force, USS Lloyd Thomas,” he said of his service. “Our destroyer was named The No. 1 ship on the east coast.”
David started his career in investments in 1962 in New York City with the U.S. Trust Co. then launched his institutional sales and research business with Vanden Broeck Lieber & Co. Next, he relocated to Richmond, Va., for Wheat & Co. and then Scott and Stringfellow, where he helped start its institutional sales department. He retired in May 2024 as a founding partner with Thompson Davis & Co., where he focused his research on global logistics companies and his sales on logistics stock investments to institutional investors. He loved his work and his colleagues.
David also loved St. Andrew’s and wanted others to have the same opportunity he did, so he created the Class of 1954 Scholarship for his 50th Reunion. Daughter Windy, who would accompany her parents in recent years to SAS for alumni events, wrote, “My dad was so proud to be a SAS alumnus and loved this school. He was always so excited to come back to campus. He is being buried wearing his SAS blazer, with the school seal that’s sewn on the lapel.”—COMPILED BY CHESA PROFACI ’80
1974
REV. KENNETH PAUL VINSEL III
Denver, CO
July 21, 2024
“Ken Vinsel died after years of declining health. A native of Louisville, Ky., Ken said that he chose St. Andrew’s because he and his father were impressed by Bill Cameron and believed that the school would best help prepare him for the priesthood. Ken was keen on all aspects of the Chapel through his four years, supported and encouraged by Simon and Nan Mein and Rev. Sandy Ogilby. He went on to earn a bachelor of divinity degree at St. Michael and All Angels Theological College in Llandarf, a school of the University of Wales in Cardiff, an experience he treasured. He was ordained in the U.S. and served for a decade as rector of St. Mary’s Anglican Catholic Church in Akron, Ohio. He subsequently was appointed curate to the rector of St. Mary’s Anglican Catholic Church in Denver. When the rector was dismissed in 2002, Ken moved to the secular work force, a world new to him but a change he embraced until poor health caused his retirement in 2018. He continued to volunteer at St. Mary’s hearing confessions. Though failing health kept Ken from his class’s 50th Reunion in June 2024, he spoke fondly of his time at the school, particularly the guidance of Robert Dobson and Chris Boyle; he said that he kept a framed brass rubbing from an English church, made by Nan Mein, on the wall of his apartment, and that memories of the school, his classmates, and Smoke Shack circle had stayed with him all his life. Resquiescat in pace.”—PETER GEIER ’74
Former Faculty/Staff
PETER CONNOLLY
Middletown, DE
January 12, 2025
Peter Connolly, a former member of the maintenance staff, died after a brief illness, three weeks shy of his 89th birthday. The following is an excerpt from his obituary:
Pete was born in Tumbarumba, NSW Australia, graduated from Christian Brothers College (high school) and then Wollongong Technical College.
Pete worked as an electrician at the Steelworks in Port Kembla, NSW and also at the Tumut 2 power station in the Snowy Mountains, NSW. He had a six-month stint in the armed services in Australia as part of a mandatory “call-up” for military training in the 1950s. He then became a merchant navy man, joined the Blue Star Line and was the chief electrician on several different ships that travelled all over the world. As an avid photographer, he took many interesting and educational photos from each port. While in port in Philadelphia in 1963, he met his future wife, Beverley. He left the ship and they married on July 25, 1964 in Bolton, England, and lived in London. In 1965, they moved to Australia where both children were born. In 1968, the family moved to Middletown, Del. Once in Delaware, Peter joined the electrical union. He worked on the second span of the Delaware Memorial Bridge. He then worked at Avison, which eventually became Amoco in Delaware City. After several strikes, he left Amoco and started a long career at St. Andrew’s School in Middletown. He retired from St. Andrew’s at age 62 in 1998. Peter was also a Rotarian and served on the Vestry at St. Anne’s Church in Middletown. Most people remember him smiling.
WEBSTER C. REYNER
Dothan, AL
February 2, 2025
Webb Reyner arrived in the fall of 1957 as St. Andrew’s first athletic director, with a solid physical education and coaching background—qualifications entirely new to a school that had since its beginning relied upon autonomous teacher-coaches. … He made order out of chaos in the sports program with his intelligent appraisal and realistic organization of the entire athletic program. His initiatives resulted in more successful teams, which garnered attention for the St. Andrew’s athletic program among the school’s leadership, leading to the construction of the “new gym” in 1960.
Then-Head of School Bob Moss wrote upon Webb’s leaving St. Andrew’s in 1971, “Webb created bona fide athletic programs for athletes and non-
athletes alike, wrote the coaches’ book to bring uniformity in method, and set a moral tone. He helped organize liaison with the infirmary, the school and headmaster, and especially other coaches, whom he taught each year in coaching seminars. Webb was a superb representative of St. Andrew’s at DISC [Delaware Independent School Conference] meetings. Coaches at other schools had great respect for him.”
But beyond systems and facilities, Webb was a school person, a teacher and coach to his core, and in his heart. For his 90th birthday last year, dozens of former Saints wrote to him, expressing Webb’s lasting impact on them. One such anecdote from Gardner Cadwalader ’66 read:
“It is not the specific ideas you passed on to us that I recall as much as your enthusiasm for learning new things every season. The lesson I learned from you was that you, our coach and teacher, were always learning, always open to new methods and always thrilled to pass them along to us. That was teaching at its best.”
St. Andrew’s remained in Webb’s heart to the end. Bob Colburn shared that he spoke to Webb’s daughter, Robin Reyner, who was with him at hospice in Alabama the night before he died. “She set her phone on speaker so Webb could hear me,” Bob said. “He was unable to talk, but Robin said his lips moved when he heard my voice, but was not able to respond verbally. Robin said he was comfortable but tuned in and out. She was convinced that Webb was aware of my call and understood who I was.”
Once a Saint, always a Saint. Rest in peace, Webster C. Reyner, with thanks from all his Saints.—CHESA PROFACI ’80, with excerpts from Time to Remember, by Bill Amos.
TOM ODDEN
Andover, MA
November 27, 2024
Physics teacher, coach, and advisor
Tom Odden, or “Big O,” arrived at SAS in the fall of 1981 and was a beloved, witty, smart, and important part of the community until his retirement in 2002. Bill Amos wrote the following in Time to Remember:
“... Big O instantly brought distinction to the physics program, and as a prominent science teacher, held important positions with The American Association of Physics Teachers and Tufts University microcomputer and telecommunications program. … Big O’s office was a museum of toys illustrating physical principles, many of them brought by students that Tom delighted in demonstrating to all who visited.”
Tom was a beloved advisor and lifelong friend to many St. Andreans. Here are just a few memories and testimonials from his former students:
“He made me actually love physics! Never thought that was possible. Such a great teacher and wonderful human being.”
—PERRY YEATMAN ’82
“Great inspiration and teacher … none of us will ever forget ‘if we have a vector.’”
—CHRIS PROFACI ’82
“I did not have Tom as a classroom teacher but instead as football line coach. For me, him in that role, he was a teacher. He was appropriately tough but fair and supportive. I have remembered him and his lessons well ever since; I will continue to remember him.”
—JOHN BUDA ’82
“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I was known for an imitation of Mr. Odden, and indeed I aspired to be like him. His warmth filled up any room. Kind, funny, he will be missed.”
—KEVIN GRANDFIELD ’82
“I remember how ‘real’ Mr O. was, and so even though it’s been years since I saw him, I remember him and his incredible warmth like it was yesterday. Very lucky to have known him and Mrs O. These photos below are from our VI Form ski trip to Vermont, and I think they show how even as rebellious teenagers we loved being with Mr O.”—ANDY KELLY ’83
“A wonderful teacher and mentor. He got me through physics, and that wasn’t an easy task. He was so much fun and could really relate to teenagers. Loved Big O.”—LORI YANEZ ’83
“Coach or Big O was a teacher that knew how to teach to all kids, regardless of aptitude, regardless of which sport they played. He knew how to be a friend, a role model, a mentor; for me an older brother, and a guy that helped me in college, and a friend I’ve talked to over the years no matter when and where we both were in life. Coach would drop everything, as would Judy, to have an opportunity together with their son Chris and his wife and kids. Like the Colburns, the Oddens were an unbiased force on the campus, and a couple to which everyone gravitated. Teaching physics with toys was only one of his superpowers. This guy taught me so much, in so little time, and showed me what a true nuclear family was. We were all blessed to have known Big O, to have laughed with him, to have commiserated with him, and to just have been with him. St. Andrew’s recruited well in 1980, and Tom and Judy will always live in my heart and memory of the two years I got to spend with him on a daily basis.”
—SKIP MIDDLETON ’83
“Mr. O was one of the best and those of us lucky enough to have had him as a teacher learned a great deal from him, both in and out of the classroom.”
—JACKIE METTE ’83
“Love Big O. Always felt like he and Judy were looking out for me; like family away from home.”—CHARLES SCHUMACHER ’84
“Tom Odden was a huge personality and north star during my time— unfailingly positive, happy, and supportive. Coach, mentor, teacher, friend. You wanted to win for him, at everything. ... A great human being.”
DAVID MCNAUGHTON ’84
“I had the most fun skiing with him at Killington my senior year. I think about him often and will truly miss him.”
—AL RAYNE ’84
“Mr. and Mrs. Odden were the absolute sweetest. No matter how long it was between my trips back to SAS, he never forgot my name, and he was always ready to share one of those
awesome and amazing Odden Bear Hugs. He and Judy were both icons of SAS and will always remain in our hearts.”—STACEY DUPREY ’85
“Tom Odden was one of the most influential people in my life. He was a great teacher and such a comfortable person to talk to. He and Judy opened their home to students.”—ANNE GAMMONS CROCCO ’85
“Some super ‘independent study’ memories with the wit and wisdom of Big O—he had a way of using gentleness and kindness to hold a boundary firm that I have used throughout my lifetime.”—HUGH LESSTER ’85
“As an oarsman, wrestler, and squash player (and one who was not required to and therefore did not take any science but bio), I never had Mr. Odden as a teacher or coach. And yet, the beauty of SAS was that every member of the faculty knew every student. Name, where they were from, what they did at school. And they cared about each of us. The Oddens arrived on Noxontown Pond the same year I did. The three O’s were three of my favorite people, and I remember the bigger O’s with fondness as I pray they rest in peace in the paradise of God.”—IAN MONTGOMERY ’85
“I remember him clearly cracking jokes in the hallway and slapping me on the back to encourage me. He reminds me a lot of my dad. He will be missed.”—PETER FALLAW ’86
“He was such a funny, lovely man. I loved learning physics from him.”
DAWN HILLMAN ’86
“He was a great teacher. I learned from him to pay attention to the foundational roots of every concept.”
MORGAN MURRAY ’86
“Big O was an amazing teacher and coach. Lots of fun memories using all of the toys in his office to learn about physics. He was my lineman coach in football and he taught us a lot of skills, including using a head slap on the offensive lineman across from us, which is illegal now. Our senior year we won the Cannon game against Tatnall and he practically wore it out shooting it all over campus.” —RANDY REYNOLDS ’86
“Big O was my advisor. So caring and kind. He gave the best hugs.”—JILL CARON ’87
1983 classmates Katie Magill, Lori Yanez, Amy Burnham-Brown, and Denise Waite with Tom Odden in back.
“I didn’t know much as a teenager, but I knew real. Mr. O was real.”
DAVID JOHNSON ’88
“What a huge positive impact he had on so many of us. What a legacy.”
KELLIE DOUCETTE ’88
“One of my favorite teachers ever, and I was no science student. He loved calling me ‘Switch’ (on/off), and I always said ‘Bio/Bye-O’ when we walked away from each other. I also appreciated his candor. Such a generous, hearty man.”—GRACE AN ’89
“Mr. Odden was one of the amazing teachers that made St. Andrew’s special. He was a great physics teacher and a great football coach. I’m really sad to learn of his passing but really glad that he was such a special part of my high school years. What a wonderful man.”—TOM PINCKNEY ’89
“What a wonderful man he was. The Oddens were such kind and loving people, and going to their house as an advisee felt like going home. Mr. Odden had the patience of a saint when I struggled with physics. Such an exceptional man who marked so many lives!”—CHRISTINA CAIN ’90
“Big O was one of the teachers I remember for the way he made me feel about learning. Coming off of a colossal failure in chemistry the previous year, I was prepared to have a lousy year in physics and he made it joyful and celebrated my learning every day. I am forever grateful.”—KIM MARKS ’90
“Big O on a bike, with a funny horn. That was outside of class, but in the classroom and lab, he got this reluctant science student engaged and interested. Thank you for everything.”—MELISSA LAHEY ’91
“I didn’t love physics, but always felt Dr. O loved me regardless (and regardless of whether I was a mediocre physics student). He was a gem.”—L. GARNER MCCANDLESS ’93
“Great teacher. Did an excellent Chris Farley impression.”—CHARLIE GAETA ’95
“One of my favorite classes ever at SAS was physics with Mr. O.”—LUKE BAER ’98
“The only time I had to work off marks was on Mr. Odden’s watch. Instead of roadside cleanup, as was the
typical penalty, he had us tidy up his classroom instead, sparing us all. Hadn’t known him much before then, but I think of him fondly whenever he comes to mind.”—LEMAR MCLEAN ’00
And from his former SAS colleagues: “An amazing colleague and friend; a real north star for a young kid just starting his career.”
—ASHTON RICHARDS ’78
“Tom joined the SAS science faculty at the same time as I did. He was a seasoned teacher, and I was a total newbie. Between him, Bill Amos, and Bob Colburn, I was in very good hands. Tom and Judy were more than colleagues to me, they were dear friends, role models, in loco parentis, and in loco grandparentis (my 3-year-old loved them so much she was comfortable spending the night, sleeping at the foot of their bed when I was in the hospital giving birth to my second child). I was so fortunate to have started my career at SAS, and to have been blessed by knowing them.”—SUSAN STRATER CAMERON
“Tom was an important mentor and friend during my first years in teaching. I have thought of him, and what he represented and taught me about caring for students, often over the past 30 years.”
—MICHAEL DENNING
“Tom Odden is the one who taught me in my first year of teaching at age 22 to test for what you think students know and not what you think they don’t know—and challenge yourself as a teacher. He taught compassion.”
KYLA TERHUNE
Saints attending the memorial service for Tom and Judy Odden at Cochran Chapel in Andover, Mass., in January. (front row) Chris Odden ’86, Mary DeSalvo P’00,’04, Kate Dickie ’96, Hannah Lyons, Dave DeSalvo P’00,’04. (back row) Alan Aikens ’84, Leif Christoffersen ’88 P’13, Dan del Sobral ’84, Maylene Hugh ’84, C.C.
Robinson ’90, and Bill Brakeley ’86. Absent was Will Speers who left prior to the reception.
In Memory
1955
GEORGE IVER PERRY LODOEN Vero Beach, FL June 5, 2023
1957
CHARLIE H.BRUMBACH Phoenix, AZ, Erie, PA July 16, 2021
1960
CHARLES L. WAYNE Chevy Chase, MD November 23, 2024
1963
DAVID LOOMIS Dallas, TX July 1, 2024
1964
JACK POPE
Virginia Beach, VA October 16, 2024
1966
HAL H. STRICKLAND
Austin, TX August 11, 2024
1979
RANDOLPH B. BLOXOM
Salisbury, MD September 24, 2024
1986
CHARLES E. “CHIP” WHEELOCK
Decatur, GA
January 2, 2025
In Memory as of February 2, 2025.
If you would like to submit a remembrance of a deceased alumnus or former faculty member, you can do so via email to Chesa Profaci (cprofaci@standrews-de.org).
The Last Word
Kellie Doucette ’88 P’18,’18,’21 delivered this Chapel talk at the Trustee Weekend Chapel service Jan. 17. It has been edited to fit this page. You can listen to/read the full talk under “Recent Talks” at standrews-de.org.
Late last year, just as I was getting ready to step away from my position in a political office in New Jersey, I received a note from a constituent that was simple but resonated with me deeply:
“While I [am] not a member of your political party,” he wrote, “I truly believe you always keep the citizens of our county regardless of party, as uppermost in your work.”
This acknowledgement filled me with pride and gave me hope that when we make the effort to reach out to build bridges, even in these polarized times, the effort is valued and recognized.
It draws me to the call in Psalm 90 to “apply our hearts to wisdom.” This phrase provides beautiful framing for the work of democracy which must be done with open hearts, open minds, and humility.
I have been thinking about wisdom a lot lately. David Brooks, in How To Know A Person, writes:
“Wisdom is knowing about people. Wisdom is the ability to see deeply into who people are… Understanding and wisdom come from surviving the pitfalls of life, thriving in life, having wide and deep contact with other people.”
What would it look like to apply our hearts to this kind of wisdom?
One of my greatest hopes for St. Andrew’s students is that you feel seen and you learn to see others, not because of how it makes them feel, but because you recognize the power it has to enrich your own life.
We intentionally create space for these moments to unfold here. It is the unique nature of St. Andrew’s that enables our community to know and value each other deeply. But how do we extend this into the outside world? A world in such crisis that Merriam Webster’s 2024 word of the year was “polarization.”
The type of wisdom that compels us toward curiosity about how others see the world desperately needs to be lifted up.
In 2016, I started a journey that enabled me to apply my heart to this kind of wisdom in unexpected ways. I began to volunteer on local government campaigns, and two years later, was hired onto the senior staff of a Democratic congressional campaign in New Jersey.
This was a very unexpected twist in my life. I went from a career in the insurance industry right into the rough and tumble of New Jersey politics. My twitter handle—@kindlykel—caused my campaign colleagues to snicker. I had entered a world that felt like Parks & Recreation meets The Sopranos.
But I was lucky. At a time when I could have dwelled in negativity, I had the opportunity to work toward positive change with people I admired and for a serious candidate: Mikie Sherrill. We won with the biggest congressional flip from red to blue in the country that year.
When the time came to govern, we knew we needed to build bridges to prove that we were genuine in our intention to serve the entire congressional district. As district director, I was responsible for some of the reddest areas of a district that had previously been represented by the same Republican
congressman for 26 years. Eighty percent of the mayors I was working with did not share my party affiliation.
Congresswoman Sherrill urged us to just be “ruthlessly competent”; to earn trust by putting our heads down and serving constituents. We did our best to approach community leaders with an open mind, responsiveness, respect, and graciousness.
Through our outreach, we created a roadmap for bipartisanship that was grounded in “wide and deep contact with other people.” We found partners to tackle a variety of local issues, like flooding, public safety, and mental health; issues that shouldn’t be partisan but often get caught up in divisive rhetoric.
It wasn’t easy. We opened the congressional office in the midst of the longest government shutdown in history, served through COVID, two presidential impeachments, and the overturning of Roe v. Wade. It was the hardest work I’ve ever done, but in a polarized time, I was now lucky to be positioned to bring people together.
The journey wasn’t one-way. I came to appreciate how even the smallest acts of political courage can move the needle and am grateful to those who reached back across the aisle.
Experts tell us that often the biggest roadblock to working with people with whom we disagree is the fear of compromising our principles. But these efforts can actually help us better understand our own political beliefs. In identifying common ground, I had to also recognize where I would not bend. I was challenged to think more deeply about the intersection of advocacy and governing, and how to create real lasting change in a world where elections have consequences.
In her book I Never Thought of It That Way, Mónica Guzmán writes:
“… when we stop colliding with people who disagree, even in casual ways, we miss opportunities to see a different angle on something,” or to “get a complex picture of a complex problem …”
It is OK to hold your core beliefs tight, you just can’t let them get in the way of opening yourself up to graceful conversation.
Not every curious conversation or bipartisan relationship is successful. You have to balance your optimism with pragmatism. But if you put yourself out there, you will find your fellow bridge-builders.
When I started this journey, I never could have imagined the joy a text about flood mitigation would bring. But that was my reaction when I recently received a picture of one of my Republican mayors standing next to an excavator, excited to kick off a project we collaborated on. That is the work. Good governance requires genuine, broad interaction.
I love Guzmán’s imagery of finding opportunities to collide with people who disagree. I think of a giant pinball machine. Lights flashing, points accumulating as we bump around learning from each other. That image captures the vibrancy and energy of St. Andrew’s when we collectively apply our hearts to wisdom and truly see each other, as God calls us to do. Never discount the power you have to make a difference through the simple act of connection. J
