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The State of the University, 2006
Theme: Reflections on Hopes, Dreams, and Aspirations I arrived at Santa Clara as a transfer student when the only student residence halls were Kenna, O’Connor, Nobili, Walsh and McLaughlin. Walsh and McLaughlin marked the southern boundary of the campus, and only the three engineering buildings and sport fields were on the east side of the what is now the Alameda Mall. I roomed in Nobili Hall with sophomores for the first term and in Walsh with the seniors for the second term, because there was no room in McLaughlin, where all the juniors lived. The all male student body numbered around 1,600 of which less than one hundred were Law students, the only graduate program at that time. The dozen or so women on campus were, in fact, nursing students studying at O’Connor Hospital. Graduating with a degree in accounting two years later, never did I imagine that I would become a Jesuit. After all, I was the first member of my family of two brothers, and roughly a dozen and half cousins, to attend college. It was expected that I should succeed in a profession. What changed over the two years following graduation? I had arrived at Santa Clara unchurched. In Italian families in those days, attending Mass was for women, except for Christmas and Easter and then, only maybe. So, during high school and the two years at UC Berkeley, only Christmas and Easter were days for going to church. During my student days at Santa Clara, Mass attendance did not improve much, but questions about faith and life began to take root. After graduating, I joined an accounting firm. I liked the partners – the Lautze brothers who also graduated from Santa Clara – and the work environment they had created in their firm. But, greater questions than a career began to emerge. Then during my short stint in the Army, a critical question kept coming up: why was I learning to destroy life and kill other young men (the Army had all men in those days) who had not made the decision to go to war. What slowly emerged was a longing and questioning on how to find meaning in life. I began to ask: What does life mean? What mattered most? Who, of the people I know, understand what is most important in life? Then, what do I want to do with my life? In this longing and questioning, God was discovering me, not I discovering God. Reflection on where my life was going and the yearning to be or do something meaningful overshadowed any desire to become a successful CPA. In hindsight, God was moving me to raise questions. (Of course, I realize for others, it may not be the God that I know who is moving them to ask these kinds of questions.) It was not a matter of leading a terrible life of sin. Of course, like every person, I was and am sinful. You can’t spend time as a recruit in the Army and not get into some kind of trouble. Reflecting on sin and goodness was God’s way of awakening me to greater possibilities. It became a matter of wanting to lead a life of integrity and virtue. I wanted a more personal relationship with God that also connected with how and what I would do with my life. Becoming a Jesuit made sense at this point. A couple of Jesuits and a very understanding Army chaplain first led me back to more regular attendance at Mass. Then, a spiritual director helped me see that God is always working to discover me, but I needed to be open and realistic about how best to integrate a meaningful, active life with the desire to understand and live a life of faith and hope. So, I entered the Jesuits in 1962. Becoming a Jesuit is one thing, remaining a Jesuit is an on-going pilgrimage. One must constantly be open to God’s grace while simultaneously discovering and rediscovering where God is in one’s life and work. Little did I imagine that I would return to Santa Clara as a Jesuit teaching accounting 14 years after graduating, much less become the president of Santa Clara another 14 years later. This year marks the end of my third term and I will begin another six-year term in August. From the time of becoming a candidate for the presidency of Santa Clara in October of 1987 to this day, I often walk in the quiet of the Mission Garden or stop in the Mission Church to reflect on the different hopes and dreams of what brought me to this point in my life and where or what is next. These are questions asked and discussed with others as I reflected on the decision to accept a fourth term: What do I believe and hope for in the future? What matters most to me as a Jesuit priest and president? Do I have the courage to be open to new possibilities? Do my hopes and dreams coincide with the community’s and am I able, as president, to inspire and work with students, faculty and staff to fashion a better Santa Clara? My own reflections, confirmed by others, lead me to believe that I have the energy, ideas, dreams, and experience to help the Santa Clara community discover, redefine, and reach out to new frontiers in learning. And in so doing, that our graduates will become leaders and citizens with the faith to construct a more humane and just world. This means contemplating about what Jesuit education should be for a complex, rapidly globalizing world. And to be willing to learn from and work with the campus community and trustees to challenge Santa Clara to be the best Jesuit, Catholic university it can be – to have the passion to reach for the highest level of distinctive quality possible. What mattered most when I first became president, and still does, was to enhance our Jesuit, Catholic – both large and small "c" – education. My hope for Santa Clara builds on three pillars: programs and Jesuit education, people in community, and resources. First, then, is to look at ways to improve Jesuit education that will also distinguish Santa Clara from all other universities. It’s about how we put things together. Namely how we integrate into our intellectual excellence, moral and ethical excellence, and religious excellence that includes the dimension of social justice. I want a Santa Clara education to develop your intellectual talents, inspire you to be ethical in your personal and professional lives, and to have the compassion to actively construct a more humane and just world. To be persons of compassion means learning to respect each person you meet in life.
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