Busiest person on campus Profile of Kelly Bennion '10

Author: Eric Bartolloti

NOTE: Kelly and I agreed not to write up a blunt, hard-data list of all the different activities she does. This article is a little different. But believe me, Kelly does an extraordinary amount of stuff. Ask anyone.

While planning the group schedule at a seminar meeting, Kelly Bennion '10 was asked to count on her hands how many activities she did. She counted, but she was short about 15 fingers.

"You don't even have time to breathe," her colleagues said. "You're half-Korean, half-machine." While they were wholly correct on the Korean half, they were only half-correct on the machine half, for while Kelly has all the productive power of any modern machine, she also has her own mind and her own purpose: two things any machine would be jealous of.

Many busy people are busy because outside forces are pushing or pulling. Some college students want to apply to law school. Overbearing parents want their kids in every club. Distressed people want to fill their free time and forget. Kelly has none of that.

"My parents never signed me up for anything," she said, "except for the first dance class I ever took." Such independence is admirable, especially considering the number of Middlebury students who still have parents hovering around.

This is not to say that Kelly did nothing while under her parents' roof and has just suddenly exploded at college. "It's not that I'm filling a void with things now," she said. "I was like this before Middlebury." (She starts recalling high school memories of theatre, tennis, marching band ... )

Without outside forces pushing or pulling, Kelly does things according to her own purpose. She makes this purpose very simple and very clear: "I enjoy everything I do." Classes, activities, work - everything. While this purpose bursts with drops of happy sunshine, it is not exactly profound. Most people should do the things they enjoy. It is a good life philosophy. So what differentiates Kelly from most people? Her freedom from Middlebury's mantra: "work hard, play hard."

"Work hard, play hard" implies that in order to play, we must work. This schism requires us to separate the components of our lives into one of two categories: work or play. We enjoy one and not the other. The difference between work and play is a long discussion, but for Middlebury and Kelly, the following should suffice: work is something we are obligated to do, and play is something we are not obligated to do.

Kelly is free from outside forces in any extracurricular she does, but what about those regular curricular obligations, that is, academics?

"I work ahead a lot," she said. "It's such a good feeling." This sounds like crazy talk, but it comes from a Midd-kid who estimates that she introspects more than half of her peers do. She may be on to something. When working ahead, Kelly reminds herself, "I don't have to be doing this." And that is her secret to a free life. By removing the sense of obligation from her schoolwork, she can appreciate it for whatever it is, for whatever genuinely interesting ideas it offers.

Kelly makes it clear that "we're all adults here at Middlebury." And we are. We are all smart, motivated people. Chances are, we'd enjoy reading that political science book on our own time. But on the night before it's due, we lose that enjoyment in our obligation to get it done. Kelly's structure - Excel spreadsheets included - might not appear to be the ticket to freedom, but because of it, she is always on her "own time."

Certain characteristics of Kelly are unique: the fact that she needs only four hours of sleep, the fact that she can get relaxation out of Riddim - something considered "productive" - rather than get relaxation out of watching an old movie (something considered "unproductive") But her modus operandi is completely duplicable. She may have more experience living outside the "work hard, play hard" schism, but it's nothing the rest of us can't learn.

Middlebury could admire Kelly for the metaphorical mountains she moves, or for her daily service to the well-being of society, but such admiration would overlook the true beauty of Kelly's story: her freedom. And not a freedom that comes from disregarding obligations, but one that comes from stepping gracefully above them.