I'll freely admit it, I love Harry Potter.
Seriously people, those books are pretty great. Even the movies that came after are OK, and let's be honest with ourselves, when was the last time that a successful book series was actually successfully converted into a major movie franchise?
There was that "Lord of the Rings" thing, I guess, but I only have four words for those crazy, hobbit-loving movie makers: less Frodo, more Viggo. But I digress.
Being a senior, lots of strange thoughts have been floating into my head of late. Is spandex still in out there in the real world? Will I go through withdrawal from Collis breakfast sandwiches? What do you mean, they don't have pong at law school? Wait a minute people, are five-day weekends a thing of the past? Will I never again walk down Frat Row soothed by the sweet sounds wafting from the Phi Delt porch?
All of these questions are completely valid. But the single question that keeps popping into my head is of a slightly different nature: why is it that no one has ever noticed that College President James Wright is our very own Dartmouth incarnation of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore?
I know you may be skeptical, but please, out of the slight intrigue that this assertion may have piqued in your muddled, early-morning brain, or out of pity for my waning weeks at the College, humor me and read on.
I think that all of us seniors feel a bit of special camaraderie with President Wright. With quiet judiciousness, he has weathered all of the past four years' storms right alongside us. In a sense, he's an '09 as well, graduating with us in a few weeks also leaving the comfort of the Green for the wilds of the real world.
I imagine that, while we seniors feel a bit of apprehension and maybe even terror at the prospect of taking our next, shaky steps, President Wright is just fine, being an adult and all. But for him too, it is a time of transition.
To bolster a nervous Harry Potter, before the young wizard was forced to strike out on his own, Dumbledore once said, "I will only ever truly be gone from this school when none here are loyal to me."
Encouraged by these words, and by the magical tools Dumbledore had imparted to him, Harry defeats Tom Riddle and cheats death. Although Dumbledore in the flesh is not present at Hogwarts at this time, his Phoenix and sword protect Harry at his darkest hour, snatching him, literally, from the jaws of a basilisk.
I feel President Wright has given us his students similar tools as we face the occasionally venomous, and markedly serpentine, road ahead. We can take on the uncertainty of this future without our mentors and teachers because we have been given the means to combat whatever may come. While others might scoff at our weapons, as they are distinctively of a Dartmouth ilk, we all, being green to the core, will know how to use them.
Like Dumbledore, President Wright is most decidedly a product of his school. He taught before he led, and has been an enduring presence on our campus for decades. With perseverance and strength, and despite controversy, President Wright has come to embody Dartmouth and much that we love about this school.
A prominent historian, I have no doubt that other posts might have been his undoubtedly he could have been Minister of Magic if he pleased but Wright has always eschewed this path for a more humble approach.
Dumbledore's commitment to all his students including Muggle-borns or werewolves is replicated here at the College, even in the cold light of our sometimes not-so-magical world.
And then there is that voice. Gravitas is not something that can be taught you either have it or you don't. And in my humble opinion, Jim Wright has got it, in spades. When I met President Wright at Convocation and heard him speak, I thought that the seas would part or that lightening would fall from the sky, striking down all evildoers. Or something like that.
He speaks how Dumbledore should, and although Richard Harris and Michael Gambon both have done admirably in the films, Jim Wright would have been a better choice.
Four years ago we came here and President Wright was there, to sort us into our houses and guide us along our sometimes-rocky way. Although Dumbledore is tragically taken from his students in the sixth book of the series, for him, this end was nothing but "the next great adventure."
President Wright certainly will remain an integral part of this community, but he is indeed now leaving his formal capacity. Yet, something tells me, that he too, along with us seniors, sees this step as his next great adventure a beginning rather than an end.
Thus, it is with retrospection and a bittersweet feeling that I now read my Harry Potter books, imagining Dumbledore's words are being said by a leader with whom I am more familiar.
To those who would say that the diversity of Dartmouth today does not reflect the values upon which the College was founded: "You place too much importance ... on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."
To those of us who fear those dreaded two words: "the future:" "Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."
To those who wish to know where this post-graduation path will lead: "The consequences of our actions are so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed."
To those who know that adult accountability is coming, and coming fast: "Dark and difficult times lie ahead. Soon we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy."
To those who have sometimes felt like a very small fish, in this talented, active and very large pond: "It is our choices ... that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."
And finally, to those of us who wish we had our very own time turner to relive a Homecoming or save Buckbeak or savor our last Green Key: "Time is making fools of us again."
