From BC to BU

We were back and a lot of others were back—back to pick up our new alumni window stickers, to see newly constructed buildings, and to see plans and models of yet more new buildings. It was homecoming and our alma mater’s once embarrassing football now is a force to be reckoned with amongst division three schools in Minnesota. It was raining yesterday, so we didn’t take the short walk over to the grid iron and watch the humiliation of neighboring Hamline University. Instead we went out to eat, came home to work, and fell asleep until dinner time when we headed back to visit with old (and even looking old) friends and acquaintances.

I should mention that we started the day in the classroom. Bethel University, situated on the same picturesque campus that Bethel College occupied during our last visit, tempted us back early in the morning with a collection of "classes without quizzes." The Warden and I sat in on two classes. The first one was lead by a panel of two professors and two current students discussing globalization and the current best selling book: Thomas Friedman’s The World Is Flat. This was a fascinating discussion that is probably second nature to our kids. As one student spoke about her many travels abroad and her boyfriend in England, whom she visits at least a couple times a year, I was reminded of our son’s recent trek to Eastern Europe and the relationship he has there. The world is a lot smaller than only a generation ago, and the lines of demarcation (economically, socially, etc.) are drawn a lot differently too. Those in this country with a college education will probably be a lot more similar to a university student in the third world than either student would be like a fellow native who lacks a high school diploma.

I could go on talking more about the book and the class discussion, but what struck me most (now writing a day later) is a rather odd happening. My wife and I were sitting near the middle of the classroom and as I scanned the room looking for familiar faces I found one near the rear door. It was a fellow student (I believe one year my senior) who was on my debate team. In fact, she was one of the leaders and a coach for us rookies. I remembered her quick mind and vast knowledge of every subject matter. But as I kept glancing at her, I couldn’t recall her name. I finally gave up and we left for a second classroom. This lecture looked at Dan Brown’s book The Da Vinci Code.

Near the end of the lecture, the professor opened up the discussion to questions and I heard a voice from the very back row. It was hers. And as soon as she spoke, her name popped into my head. It was Jo Beld, great encourager of those of us with lesser minds. Always well-spoken and thought provoking, I remember hearing that she headed east to Yale after Bethel. (She was always winning awards and I think she won a Fulbright Scholarship [I didn’t know what that was at the time]).

But I was amazed at how our senses come through for us in different ways and at different times. I could have stared for hours and never come up with her name, yet a few short words (without even seeing her) and there was her name in my head. And I don’t even pride myself on being an auditory learner.

It was good to be back. It was familiar, but yet different. The new classrooms had stadium style seating with real comfy chairs (almost like a movie theater) and slick audio visual gadgets and huge screens hooked up to the internet. And during the middle of the lecture we even got to hear the ubiquitous ring of someone’s cell phone, a sound we never would have dreamed of in the late 1970s. Maybe it was someone calling from Uganda. The world is flattening.