Old School

This article is a real doozy – I pulled it from the microfilm a while ago and lost the date, but it was definitely from 1971 or 1972. I wonder what became of David. Any current student could read his statement in two ways, immediately: first, that after 25 days at Middlebury, he lacked the perspective necessary to judge the value of four years here, or second, that he did something a lot of us wish we had the guts to do. He set his own course in life, contrary to the expectations of parents and peers.

We all know what he’s talking about. The things that are most precious to us tend to be non-professional and often non-academic, and choosing college ensures that we will spend four years immersed in those (superfluous?) pursuits, and puts us on track for many more similar years. Is life too short? None of us reading this will ever know. For many of us, Moffet’s decision seems sadly remote. It must feel good to take control over one’s circumstances, which have seemed so predetermined since childhood.

Then again, what is this guy gonna go do, anyway? Join a commune, maybe. If he gets a nine-to-five job somewhere he’ll be “wasting” as much time as he would here. He does little to outline a positive philosophy, displaying a recognizable streak of youthful alienation. You could dismiss that sort of alienation as clichéd, but you’d be denying such youth their obvious historical significance —and if we seek answers to Moffet’s challenges, we’ll have to look long and hard. The jury is still out on these things.

And that’s why the article resonates so strongly 40 years later. Many of us ask ourselves, what would have to be different for such a choice to seem realistic to me? In the late ’60s and early ’70s this kind of attitude was less ridiculed, more fashionable. Moffet’s decision might have required courage, but fit easily into what was then a comfortable story. We still live in the shadow of that era, still wrestle with the image of the youth of the protest period. Do we ignore the critical voices, and embrace the clichés, or do we find some other outlet, some other way of reconciling our young hearts with the paths available to us?