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A look back on 2016

It has been a wonderful year at Queen’s University – one full of exciting announcements, unique challenges, and major milestones. As we head into the holidays, I’ve been looking back on some of my favourite moments of the past twelve months, and wanted to share a few of them with you.


The year started off with the announcement of a $4-million grant from the NSERC Discovery Frontiers Program for the Engineered Nickel Catalysts for Electrochemical Clean Energy (Ni Electro Can) research team, to develop the next generation of clean energy technologies. With 14 Canadian researchers, seven universities, nine international researchers from seven different countries, and a number of industry partners on board, the Ni Electro Can team is a perfect example of how collaboration enables researchers to remain at the forefront of discovery and propel Canadian research onto the world stage. Five of those 14 Canadian researchers are faculty members at Queen’s, including the team’s primary investigator, Dr. Gregory Jerkiewicz. The Honourable Dr. Kirsty Duncan, Minister of Science, Mr. Mark Gerretsen, Member of Parliament for Kingston and the Islands, and Dr. Mario Pinto, President of Natural Science and Engineering Research Council of Canada, all came to Queen’s University to celebrate the announcement.

Photo by Lars Hagberg


During a visit to the University of Otago in New Zealand in early February, I renewed a memorandum of understanding between the seven universities in the Matariki Network of Universities. I was also fortunate to meet with some fellow Queen’s alumni at a Matariki reception in Auckland.

Auckland Alumni with DW


It was an honour to celebrate the recognition of Nobel Laureate Dr. Art McDonald and his SNOLAB collaborators in the House of Commons in early March. The Nobel Prize is a result of the dedication of 273 collaborative scientists whose work was generously funded by numerous universities, industry, and government organizations, including the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada, the National Research Council of Canada, Atomic Energy of Canada Limited, and Industry Canada. Their discovery, which has fundamentally changed our view of the universe, would not have been possible without continued support from the Government of Canada.

Photo courtesy of the Prime Minister’s Office


In April, we unveiled Alfred and Isabel Bader’s historic donation to our arts centre – Rembrandt’s Portrait of a Man with Arms Akimbo. As one of the most significant contributions of art to a Canadian university in history, the painting dramatically elevates The Bader Collection and places the Agnes among the premier university art galleries in North America for the study of European art. The gift also raises the international profile of the historical European collection and of the Agnes as a whole, as our arts centre now holds three of the six Rembrandts in Canadian public collections. Alfred Bader (Sc’45, Arts’46, MSc’47, LLD’86) and Isabel Bader (LLD’07) are among Queen’s most generous benefactors, supporting the university for seven decades. They have given back to Queen’s in countless ways: transforming the campus, enriching the student experience, supporting scholarship, and helping to enhance the university’s reputation as a top-tier educational institution.

Photo by Garrett Elliott


The month of May was filled with convocation ceremonies, and in honour of Queen’s University’s 175th anniversary, we decided to celebrate the accomplishments of some of our most distinguished alumni in conferring honorary degrees. Four members of our city’s most beloved band, The Tragically Hip, joined us for our second of 21 convocation ceremonies on May 2. Dr. Gord Sinclair delivered a wonderful speech to the crowd, “Your greatest satisfaction, in every aspect of your life, will come from the interactions with the people you partner with and those to whom you provide help.”

Photo by Bernard Clark


The Annual Staff and Faculty Barbecue gives us a chance to step away from our offices and connect with colleagues from across campus. Seeing so many faces at the event in early June was a perfect reminder of just how many people work day in and day out to make Queen’s a great university.


Photo by Bernard Clark


In July, I spent a few hours visiting with the researchers and staff at the Canadian Cancer Trials Group. I followed my visit with a tour of Dr. Madhuri Koti’s oncology lab in the Queen’s Cancer Research Institute – one of several lab tours I completed over the year. I have really enjoyed meeting researchers in person and seeing the tremendous work they are doing, and I’ve found the tours to be very helpful to me in advancing Queen’s reputation and profile for research with government, alumni, and donors.

Photo by Greg Black


Just before Orientation Week, our AMS executives hosted a Roundtable on Volunteering in the Community. I joined our new Provost, Dr. Benoit-Antoine Bacon, Carolyn Thompson, AMS VP of University Affairs, and Mayor Bryan Paterson on stage. We discussed how students could become better involved in the community and leverage those experiences later in life. In honour of Queen’s 175th anniversary, the AMS also announced that they were aiming for 175 years worth of volunteer service from Queen’s students over the 2016-17 year!

AMS Panel 1


Under clear skies and dazzling sunshine, 3,373 people turned out to Nixon Field on Sept. 6 to help Queen’s University set the Guinness World Record for largest human letter – a Q. All of the participants wore gold T-shirts provided by the organizers. The Q had a circumference of approximately 140 metres, with organizers mapping out the letter in advance using more than 300 metres of rope. The record attempt is a highlight of the university’s 175th anniversary celebrations. Hundreds of incoming students helped fill up a large portion of the Q along with other students, faculty, staff, and local community members.

Photo by Garrett Elliot


Queen’s University was incorporated by an Imperial Royal Charter issued by Queen Victoria on Oct. 16, 1841. The university marked the 175th anniversary of that historic occasion with a tree dedication in the Snodgrass Arboretum in front of Summerhill on Sunday, Oct. 16. Earlier in the day, University Historian Duncan McDowall and I visited St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church, where we attended a special service that recognized the important role that church played in Queen’s early history. In this photo, I’m joined by Queen’s Elder in Residence, Mary Ann Spencer.



On Nov. 23, Mr. Seymour Schulich and I unveiled the Schulich-Woolf Rare Book Collection at Queen’s University, during a ceremony at the Queen’s Douglas Library. The collection, a combined 400 books, focuses on 16th-18th-century English history and culture but also includes volumes on travel, antiquities, and Canadiana. A titan of Canadian industry whose career spanned the financial services and mining sectors, Mr. Schulich has distinguished himself as a philanthropist over the last two decades, donating more than $350 million to universities and hospitals throughout Canada, the U.S., and Israel. In 2011, he launched the Schulich Leader Scholarships, a $100-million program that provides full scholarships to promising high school graduates with a passion for science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. Since the program’s inception, Queen’s has been a top-five destination for Schulich Leaders; fourteen of them have chosen to study at Queen’s. In this photo, Mr. Schulich (centre) and I look at one of the new displays with Alvan Bregman, Head, W.D. Jordan Rare Books and Special Collections.



Earlier this month, I hosted the annual Principal’s Holiday Reception where I honoured seven Queen’s staff members with Staff Recognition Awards. The awards recognize staff members who consistently provide outstanding contributions to the learning and working environment at Queen’s at a level significantly beyond what is usually expected. The 2016 Staff Recognition Award recipients are: Melinda Knox and Kelly Blair-Matuk, Office of the Vice-Principal (Research); Sandra McFadden, Office of the University Registrar (Student Awards); Sandra Murray, Centre for Teaching & Learning; Ben Seewald, Advancement – Alumni Relations; Deborah Smith, Office of the University Registrar (Exams Office); and Angela Street, Office of the University Registrar (Student Awards).


Of course, these are only twelve of a few hundred busy days around Queen’s University campus, but they are great reminders of what we’ve accomplished since January. I give my best wishes to you for a wonderful holiday break filled with friends, family and lots of rest and relaxation. See you all again in 2017!

On racism, diversity, and inclusion at Queen’s: Some thoughts and a proposed course of action

This has been a difficult week for many Queen’s community members. Periodically, our relatively quiet campus explodes in controversy. I’ve seen it happen a handful of times since I’ve been principal, each situation unique in its own right, but each almost invariably magnified by the potent influence of social media.

Last week, reports emerged of a costume party attended by Queen’s students that involved the unacceptable misappropriation and stereotyping of numerous cultures. This has understandably caused both anxiety and anger for many; it has also rekindled an important conversation in our community about the degree to which Queen’s is a welcoming and inclusive community.

While we are much more diverse than we once were, this incident has acted as an urgent reminder that Queen’s still has much work to do on these issues, and in particular on sensitizing all our community members to actions and behaviours that may seem harmless fun to many but which marginalize some members and make them feel unwelcome at our university. For that reason, I am forming an advisory group comprising students, faculty, and staff members to examine the issue of inclusivity at Queen’s and make both immediate and long-term recommendations for change.

Among other things, the advisory group will consult key stakeholders who work on issues of diversity, equity, and inclusion to identify concrete steps to create and sustain a positive, constructive dialogue and identify educational and training needs. This group will consult widely and report back to me with recommendations by the end of the academic year.

This will not be the first group to look at diversity and inclusion at Queen’s, and so I understand that there may well be skepticism about its creation and ability to effect change. With that in mind, one of the first tasks of the group will be to review the work that has been done in the past, and determine if there are barriers that have prevented previous recommendations from being successfully implemented and how we can overcome these.

Last week, I asked the provost to gather as much information as possible about the party that prompted this discussion. An investigation is just that – it is not a “witch hunt,” as some have opined on social media, but simply due process. There is no doubt that the party in question made some of our community members feel upset, marginalized and degraded, and that the decisions made by some students were insensitive and exhibited very poor judgment. However, based on the information the provost has gathered, we have come to the conclusion that there should not be a formal punitive process undertaken through the Student Code of Conduct. This in itself would fix nothing. What is needed is a broader, sustained, and more meaningful conversation around these issues.

This is a very difficult subject, and many of you have strong feelings about how the university should proceed. However, as an educator and the principal of Queen’s, I am confident that the most effective way to address these issues is through education, discussion, and awareness. That is why the work of the advisory group, and the dialogue that will take place in the coming months, is so important.

Of the many conversations I’ve had with members of our community over the past several days, one conversation with an alumna in particular stands out. To paraphrase, she defined racism as a broader concept than many members of the general public are likely to acknowledge—one that includes not only obvious actions of discrimination and hatred, but also unconscious assumptions and opinions, and more subtle acts of disrespect. Perceptions of what “racism” includes are fluid, and they have evolved historically.

Within a progressive society such as a university, such definitions have also broadened over recent decades. But progressive communities acknowledge that definitions evolve, open themselves up to difficult conversations, and respect each other as the status quo is challenged. Sometimes it takes an event such as the recent costume party to make us re-evaluate our own assumptions, unconscious biases, use of terminology, and our sense of what is and what is not appropriate behaviour in a multicultural and inclusive community.

We have made great progress on many social issues at Queen’s over the years (mental health and sexual violence, for example) through dialogue and concrete, rather than symbolic, actions. I encourage everyone to share views in a constructive rather than a divisive way, with a focus on the wellbeing and success of all our community members. Change comes from conversation and education, and creating a culture of greater respect and understanding. I do not know at this juncture what our specific actions will be, other than that they do not include demonizing individuals who are members of our community. I do know that we need to find solutions, and I welcome your suggestions.

Peace: the absence of fear and the presence of justice

The following is a guest post from Queen’s University’s Inter-faith Chaplain, Kate Johnson, who delivered this speech on November 11th at a Peacequest event called “The World Remembers.” 

In my early teens I made my first faulty commitment to pacifism. At 28, I met the soldier who would eventually become my husband. He had learned of my claim to pacifism previously but was still interested in meeting me. Had I known he was a soldier I would not likely have seen the date through. Immediately, I was forced to admire his open mind and willingness to challenge his own prejudices – although one of his first questions felt more like a challenge to me.

He asked how a person of conscience could be willing to “do nothing” when the world was crying out for justice. I was confused – what did he mean by “do nothing?” In the world he came from, the teaching was that pacifists “did nothing” in place of preparing to take up arms. I was glad to explain that my pacifist role models were very much people of action and that I did all that I could to live up to their examples. While his lot were (with varying degrees of reluctance) willing to do violence in the hope of creating peace, my lot were (with varying degrees of self awareness and integrity) using less coercive means to bring about greater peace. Each of us shattered the other’s illusions about who was “on the other side” of our differences. Since that night, I can say with certainty that loving and marrying a soldier has indeed been the most constructive thing I have ever done to strengthen my commitment to pacifism.

You have read Ursula Franklin’s beautiful words above me: “Peace is not the absence of war but the absence of fear and the presence of justice.” In our world, and in our homes where violence has been present as often as not and the dividing line between good and evil cuts through every human heart, peace is a state brought about by strongly held conviction, rigorous self-examination and as much action as our personal circumstances allow. As people who want peace for ourselves and others we can not shirk Margaret Meade’s perhaps cliche but still essential suggestion that we must “be the change we want to see in the world.”

The practice of pacifism is a life-time, moment-by-moment commitment – many splendored in its efforts. Those efforts are too numerous to describe tonight so instead I want to briefly talk about what I believe to be the primary pacifist practice – that of spiritually grounded self-examination.

Different traditions use different language but my own Quaker tradition advises that we “remove the seeds of war from our own lives.” This is a tall – if not impossible – order. It does not refer merely to holding political ideals or particular interpersonal practices but extends through the whole of our lives. It includes eliminating investments and patterns of consumption that lead to fear and conflict close to home or at a distance. Few of us have the integrity to even pretend to strive for such an ideal these days – I certainly cannot lay claim to it.

It is much easier to call out ideas we don’t like than it is to lay down the technology that contains conflict minerals or the many consumer goods produced in circumstances of oppression. Certainly we can not live in this society without participating in oppression unless we are willing to be thought terribly odd and take up a place far on the margins of society ourselves. We need to be honest with ourselves about that but we also should not let that reality stop us from doing what we can – including some of the hard stuff.

A famous prophet once challenged his followers: “what credit is there in loving those who love you” or already see you as allies? Love of allies is not meaningless – indeed this week in North America has made the ever-present need for solidarity even more urgent. We must speak our truth, wear our safety pins, and create safe havens for the marginalized but none of that is enough.

It sounds naive to some but I assure you it is not when I say with all certainty that if we want peace, we must refuse to be enemies.

We must oppose evil ideas and evil agendas – and to give that opposition integrity, we must not dehumanize those who tempt us into conflict. In 30 years of seeking to understand humans and our range of behaviour, I have arrived at this one unavoidable truth: from the roughest streets, to the darkest prison to the privileged environs of Queen’s University, I have yet to meet a person who did not make sense when I learned their whole story.

We can and must resist evil but we also can and must exercise that resistance in the most humane, compassionate way possible – constantly challenging ourselves, our allies and those we oppose to methods of living that transcend the perceived need for violence. It takes a life-time of training and discipline to achieve this – and never perfectly. Still, more often than we imagine, it can be done.

Audre Lorde is famously quoted as saying “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” She goes on to point out that “they may allow us to temporarily beat him at his own game but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.” She “urges each one of us to reach down into that deep place of knowledge inside herself to touch that terror and loathing of any difference that lives here. See whose face it wears. Then the personal as the political can begin to illuminate all of our choices” and we can respond with the kind of compassion and humility that hurting children deserve – for who among us has ever left their hurting child entirely behind?

I heard it said this morning by Military Chaplain Captain Ryan Carter that no one has a monopoly on the meaning of Remembrance Day. It is right and good that we gather this evening to mourn the violence in our world and to long together for our vision of peace: an absence of fear and the presence of justice. Let us be sure as we leave this place that we do all that we can to remove the seeds of violence from our own lives, holding each other up so that we do not betray ourselves in fear but rather that we encourage each other to be sure that our actions speak our convictions.

Finding ways to thrive at Queen’s

I am grateful every day for the opportunity to serve the Queen’s community as its 20th Principal and Vice-Chancellor. It is a privilege to work alongside some of the most talented and intelligent individuals I’ve ever met, and I am incredibly proud of the students we attract, teach, and graduate. And yet, as wonderful as this position is to hold, there are elements of my work life that are inherently stressful.

I would confidently assume that my counterparts at other post-secondary institutions similarly manage conflicting deadlines and extended work hours while making quality time for family. There is also that underlying feeling – a similar one to when you become a parent – of discomfort that when things are going well, the other shoe might be about to drop. I don’t even believe these stressors are unique to this type of position; they are common ones in many occupations. And yet, they are important for me to identify personally, so that I might manage my physical and mental health in appropriate and proactive ways.

Since arriving at Queen’s, and making the mental health of the Queen’s community a priority, I knew that I would need to set a good example and create some boundaries in my work and home life. This involved challenging myself to maintain, if not improve, my health in a variety of areas. A treadmill and a set of weights await me at home to use on days when I don’t reach 10,000 steps on my Fitbit. Julie and I do our best to watch our intake of high-carb foods and have salads and fresh vegetables as often as possible. I aim to get at least seven hours of sleep each night, and began to incorporate naps into my routine on weekends and when evening events are booked in my calendar. I also set blocks of time in my workday to leave room to deal with pressing issues that come up unexpectedly, so surprises don’t pile on top of my regular obligations.

These changes have not eliminated stressors from my work life, but they have proven that when I take care of my mind and my body, I am better prepared to handle issues appropriately and at my fullest capacity. I believe the same to be true for many of us – including the staff, faculty, and students of Queen’s. And, this is why I’m supportive of an important annual event called Thrive Week.

Thrive began at the University of British Columbia in 2009, when two colleagues decided to create wellbeing programming that included various groups of the university’s community. For its first year, 20 events were organized over one week under the tagline “Health, Community, Commitment.” In just a few years, the idea spread to 100 events at campuses across the country, reaching 35,000 people in 2014 alone. Queen’s adopted Thrive last year with great success.

Thrive Week

Thrive Week 2015

This year, Queen’s will celebrate Thrive Week from October 31 to November 4, with numerous stress-busting events held across campus each day. You’ll find me at the Kick-Off Booth on Monday morning, and on Wednesday I’m hosting a walk around campus over the lunch hour. Whether you’re feeling stressed out or not, I encourage you to participate in at least one activity; invite your colleagues and classmates to join you.

As a series of events and activities, we could never expect Thrive Week to solve all of the issues related to mental health and its associated stigma that are prevalent in workplaces and on campuses across the country. Together, we must see it as a mindset, and recognize that when our individual health – mental and physical – is respected and cared for, we all benefit.

My First Ten Days at Queen’s (Part Two)

(For part one of this blog see here)

Day Six: Thursday, September 16

In the afternoon, we get our sectioning envelopes back with classes that have now been assigned by some mysterious process unknown to us. I’m a little disappointed as I have classes pretty much every day of the week, and my last class, History 121, won’t finish till 2:30 on Friday. I’m told that one can request a section change and I knock on a couple of doors in History, ultimately ending up chatting with the pipe puffing Professor William McCready, undergraduate coordinator in History, who patiently explains why sections are evenly balanced and that a move is not likely unless I find someone who wants to switch. Apparently, the timetabling is not done for my convenience! It will turn out that I will love my section and my History instructor, the late Professor Stewart Webster; I’ll also end up doing a couple of courses with the same Professor McCready in future years, the resident medievalist. Conclusion: the timetable thing was nothing to get stressed about.

In the evening we are all taken off to Lake Ontario Park where there is a mini midway with rides and miniature golf. At the miniature golf line I first make the acquaintance of a student from New Brunswick named Lyse Doucet. 39 years later, in 2015, I will be reading a citation for Lyse at Convocation as she gets an honorary degree as one of Canada’s most high profile and courageous international journalists. One simply does not know who is going to end up doing what at that point, and who will continue to figure prominently in one’s life.

Day Seven: Friday, September 17

Registration. We’ve heard fearsome tales of this. We take our sectioning envelopes, and our cheque books, and pass through a kind of Rube Goldberg human machine in the Jock Harty Arena (then a few years old, torn down in 2008) from station to station. By the time we get to the end of this assembly line we are registered, have paid our fees, and know exactly where we need to be on Monday for class. The whole system has worked quite flawlessly, the design of a famously eccentric Queen’s math professor, Ralph Clench. And indeed, the History department has assigned those of us in History 121 some advance reading on the subject of intellectual history, so I have homework to do for Tuesday’s first history class.

A snapshot from the 1976 TriColour Yearbook.

A snapshot from the 1976 TriColour Yearbook.

Evening fun is a boat cruise, then called, the ‘booze cruise’ in those less vigilant days. I don’t drink at this stage and have no objection to alcohol, but will admit to having felt a bit awkward being the only one who doesn’t imbibe. I had earlier decided to take the alternative Friday entertainment, a concert by the David Bromberg band (a blues group still around 40 years later!). But at the last, when it’s clear I’m the only one doing so, I switch back to the boat cruise. Listening to Dave will have to wait a few years.

There are also meetings of faculty societies and we are introduced to ASUS. People run for their year society. On a whim, I run for treasurer of Arts ’80 and discover a few days later that I have been elected. Apart from a couple of years of involvement in the History department student council, later on, this will be my sole experience of student government.

Day Eight: Saturday, September 18

I finally update my family at home on how I’m doing. Phone calls are expensive in those days and they will be minimal. Some serious homesickness is setting in as I’ve now been here for a week. But there is a football game against Bishop’s (an institution I’d never heard of but will end up teaching at for a year, exactly a decade later), and in the evening there is a dance in Leonard Cafeteria featuring a past-its-prime Canadian band called Edward Bear.

A snapshot from the 1976 Tricolour Yearbook

A snapshot from the 1976 Tricolour Yearbook

Day Nine: Sunday, September 19

This is clearly intended as a calming day. The idea is to get us out of ‘fun’ mode and into ‘academic’ mode. Back then there was a charming tradition called ‘Frosh-Prof dinners’ where faculty members would invite a Gael group to their house for an informal meal. We get pizza at the home of an anatomy prof named Dr. Mackinnon. I never saw him subsequently but remember the meal and the back yard and have met many people over the years who were taught by him (Dr. Mackinnon sadly died a few years ago).

After our dinner, we are all marched over to either the Bews or the Bartlett gym. We sit on old bleachers and our dean, a man called Dr. Duncan Sinclair, who wears a turtleneck sweater, speaks to us about life at Queen’s and academics. One line sticks with me: “there are only students at Queen’s; some of us are on the other side of the desk, but we are all students”. Later in life, as a dean and then principal, I will frequently quote this (I have related this account to Dr. Sinclair, an award winning, Medical Hall of Fame physiologist as I’ve gotten to know him quite well in the past few years, and he is one of the many elder statesmen of Queen’s whose voice still carries great weight on campus). I will not see Dr. Sinclair again till he hoods me at my Convocation in June 1980.

It’s back to the residence and a reasonably early night, though it’s a pretty noisy hallway with lots of stereos blasting. Dave Bellamy, a Sci ’79 student across the hall, plays Supertramp’s ‘School’ frequently and loudly. I will retaliate in due course, when my record player arrives, with a lot of Carly Simon and K.C. and the Sunshine Band.

Day Ten: Monday, September 20

Finally, the first day of class is here. My alarm clock goes off. The first song I hear on my first day of class is George Baker’s Paloma Blanca, a schmaltz top 40 hit from the summer of ’76. (To this day it is not clear to me why I remember this fact.)

After lovely weather during frosh week, it is pouring outside. I find Kingston Hall and my first class, English 110. Good news! My new pal Gayle from my frosh group is in this class. So are three people I don’t know yet but who will each become good friends. David Elmy is from Belleville, has a single room (and a TV!) in Gordon House. We will lose touch in the 90s but have reconnected—he is now a successful businessman in Vancouver, having won the medal in English in our year. Kate Revington is from London, Ontario and she will be in my Philosophy and Classics sections also. Also an English Major, she is now the University Secretary at Guelph. And, there is Glenn Stairs, from Trenton, son of a minister and now a Kingston social worker and one of the smartest people I will meet in my four years. I am still in touch with all three.

The prof is a 5’ 6” slight bundle of energy called Professor W. Craig Ferguson (“Mr. Ferguson” he prefers to be called, regarding “Professor” as superfluous and “Dr.” as an affectation). He wears a gown like professors from a Hollywood version of academia. I am not unfamiliar with universities given my academic family, but I am not prepared for this. He seems a bit of a disciplinarian (note: Glenn Stairs, mentioned above, and I, now take Craig, now retired for some years, out for lunch from time to time.) The class ends with our first essay assigned: on the Wife of Bath’s tale in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Fortunately my Grade 12 class read some of Chaucer the previous year.

It’s pouring outside as I leave Kingston Hall. I head over to Ellis Hall for my first classical literature class. Prof Richard Bernabei is a polar opposite to Prof Ferguson. In shirtsleeves with no tie or jacket, and chain smoking through the fifty minutes (yes, this was allowed, and students could smoke too), he tells us about the books we will need and how fantastic the plays by Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides are. “You will never read better plays in any language”. “Including Shakespeare?” Someone murmurs. “Yes, including Shakespeare!” Prof Bernabei is a character in his own right, a keen follower of JFK conspiracy theories, and someone, we are unaware at the time, battling some inner demons that will, sadly, kill him prematurely before I graduate. I think of him often to this day.

After this class, I go to the bookstore in Clark Hall. I pick up my textbooks, spending a whopping $110.00 on them. (My tuition that year, by the way, was $600.00). It’s still wet, so I head back to the residence and my room, make a cup of tea, put on some music and reflect on the first ten days of life at Queen’s. Roommate Randy, a Science major, is having his day out in Bio, Chem and Math so we don’t see a lot of each other till the evening.

Bookstore 1976

A snapshot from the 1976 Tricolour Yearbook

Still ahead are Politics 110 with Prof George Perlin (who looks to most of us like Lenin), and on Tuesday I will have my first Philosophy Class with Prof Albert Fell and my first History 121 with Prof Webster. I stayed in almost constant touch with Prof Webster over many years, up till his death in the early 2000s. I run into Prof Fell (along with Prof Perlin, the source of my lowest grades in first year) a great deal these days and have always regretted not taking his Philosophy of History course later in my degree—as someone who works in Historiography I’d have found it very useful.

At this point I am ten days into “my future at Queen’s.” I know nothing of how the academic year will go, or indeed even if I will still be here a year hence as home seems a long way away. (All that’s behind me by January; the marks are generally okay, I’ve made a circle of friends, and now 18, then the drinking age, I can socialize a bit more at events like floor parties.) And, no, I have no idea that I will eventually teach here as postdoc in the mid 80s, much less come back a third time, as Principal.

So, to anyone in first year having doubts or fretting, you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. Give it time. Talk to your dons and friends. Make this year, and your time at Queen’s, your own. You’ve no idea how your future at Queen’s will work out or where these roads you are exploring in your early weeks here will lead.