Radcliffe Oration 2007

by Marlene Rehkamp ’82, JD ’85

June 8, 2007

Good morning, dean and president-elect Drew Faust, Nancy Lee Johnson, fellow alumnae, friends of the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study, family members, and special guests.

We are gathered here in Memorial Church first and foremost to recall the pantheon of alumnae who have passed away, and also to honor Radcliffe through reflection on the lives of the women who have passed through its doors.

Twenty-eight years ago, the first Radcliffe Commemorative Service was held. At that time, the Class of 1982 was beginning courses and freshman seminars taught primarily by men professors. However, we were also being urged by the presidents of Radcliffe and Harvard to think independently, to create intellectual opportunities, and to find and raise our voices. Anne Radcliffe had expected no less. To paraphrase an English poet laureate, she “with [her] gift . . . set this noble vine with roots too deep for ignorance to shift, its boughs aloft, in light, with living wine . . . This lamp of human hope become a star.” (John Masefield, LittD ’18, at tercentenary of Harvard.)

Over the years, “this noble vine” of Radcliffe has burgeoned. Remarkable women have studied here and found and raised their voices. I think that at this time of year, the same time of year as Commencement, it is fitting to reflect on them and take stock of where we stand as women and as alumnae.

In the 25th reunion class, five women among our ranks remain only in our memories today. They are: Lucy Biancolli, who sang in the choir of this historic and hallowed place as an undergraduate (today’s beautiful alumnae choir echoes her voice); Linda Hamberg Holtz, active in the Radcliffe Union of Students and mother of two; Ilana Goldman, a psychiatrist and daughter of a Radcliffe alumna and Harvard alumnus; Maryanne Povinelli, a sculptor and emergency care physician, and Cynthia Stanton, a nationally ranked athlete.

Since last year’s Commemorative Service, many other distinguished alumnae dear to our hearts have left us. Sandra Biloon ‘51, an active alumna and leader in labor relations, passed away last Friday. Today is a time to mourn her and all those who have passed away, and to honor them.

To do this, we may consider our place in the world. We now fill Harvard’s lecture halls and laboratories with our voices, as professors, and as directors of programs. We are emerging elsewhere as professors and deans in fields ranging from biochemistry and physics to economics and political science. We are eager to bring women’s voices to fields long closed to us, and to speak out to improve policies on hiring, on tenure, and on faculty members with young children.

Hear us as artists: as writers, editors, vocalists, stage actors, and musicians! Our voices ride the waves of broadcast media and along the Internet, resounding in the news and entertainment industry.

Women’s aptitude in the sciences is evident, thank you, among our scores of physicians and research scientists, and among our mathematicians and engineers, theoretical physicists, oceanographers, and seismologists. Our voices can be heard in a Native American diabetes program, and as chairs of physician training programs and leukemia programs.

Hear our voices working to improve government policy, reverberating in our nation’s capital and from California’s Department of Health and Human Services to Vermont’s Agricultural Agency! We are training Foreign Service officers. Hear us leading relief organizations and watch groups! One of us represents the world’s largest organization of women to the United Nations. We are being heard in senior management and, to a lesser extent, it seems, than those of men classmates, in the boardrooms of major corporations.

To be sure, work–family challenges abound. Many of us have children (some now at Harvard); some classmates have put their careers on hold and are with their children at home, serving through civic and charitable boards for now. The experiences of earlier classes suggest that the voices of these women will resound again in their careers in time to come, both directly and through their children.

It was suggested that I add a few words about myself. I take pride in Radcliffe’s history and in its dynamic alumnae, including my spring extern sponsor, the Honorable Frederica Brenneman (here with us today); my American history and literature tutor, Mary Holland, who led me to the Schlesinger and encouraged my research there; and in the scores of alumnae engaged over 10 years in the women in law colloquia that a friend and I had begun. As a law student and resident tutor, I took particular joy in introducing undergrads to Radcliffe. Down in New York, as a corporate tax attorney and then as a government lawyer serving under the incomparable alumna Elizabeth Holtzman, then under Mayor Rudolph Giuliani, and now up here in the Boston area, I have encouraged women and men to support the Radcliffe Institute.

And so here we are. “This lamp of human hope become a star” has indeed helped position all alumnae to make a difference in our society. Radcliffe Day is an opportunity to ask ourselves:

  1. How have I directed my energies? Have I used my time well? Has my life been well spent thus far?
  2. Am I proud of the questions I have asked? Of the choices, especially the compromises, I have made? Of concrete differences I have made in the lives of others?
  3. Have I reached out to “the forgotten,” as Mother Theresa begged on Class Day 1982, and to those facing poverty, gender, or racial discrimination, global inequities?
  4. Have I raised my voice for truth? Have I raised my voice against false claims, especially when stakes are high?
  5. How have I supported Radcliffe, undeniably linked to my education, “this noble vine”?

In answering these questions, we can rededicate our lives as educated people of purpose.

In this Memorial Church, built to remember alumni who died in World War I, there hangs a plaque to your left in honor of three Radcliffe alumnae, including one of whom it was said: “She possessed in a remarkable degree that all-conquering energy which many consider the chief characteristic of genius.”

On this day, may we always remember our deceased alumnae and celebrate "that all-conquering energy” so clearly evident in them and in their intellectual, professional, and family lives.

In the memory of these remarkable women, may all of us celebrating reunions, and all Radcliffe alumnae and scholars, use our gifts and energy with purpose and passion, but humbly, without hubris, never boastful of our own achievements and awards.

May we always remember our devoted parents and all those who encouraged our studies here, as well as our families, loyal roommates (including those here today), and true friends.

Finally, may we fully support Dean Faust, whom we now call with pride the president-elect of Harvard, and her successors, in ensuring the integrity and development of the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study. It is through this support that we continue to pay tribute to “this noble vine, with roots too deep for ignorance to shift, its boughs aloft, in light, with living wine. . . . This lamp of human hope become a star.”

Thank you.

Marlene Rehkamp