Hello, friends! Our long conversation about college admissions ends right now. (I have a hunch that makes you happy.) You successfully survived the gauntlet known as “the admissions process”— all those campus tours and info sessions, SATs, deadlines and college essays. Each of you earned your seat in Tufts’ 160th undergraduate class because the Admissions Committee recognized a Jumbo when we saw one. Now comes the fun part!
Collectively and individually, you are smart and engaged, playful and assertive. You favor collaboration over competition. You’re kind. Those are the ideals of the community we framed during those endless, snowy weeks last winter, and those are the qualities we celebrate today as you finally join us on this Hill on this hot, humid afternoon amidst the energy of new friendships. We are excited about the mark each of you will make on this college community as well as on the world beyond our boundaries.
As the Admissions Committee shaped your class with a record low acceptance rate of 16 percent, your essays added a blast of personality to the strong record of academic achievement that defines you. So I’ll use the rich content of your own words to introduce you to the Tufts—and, more importantly, to each other.
The Class of 2019—as well as the 79 transfers who also join us today—is a vibrant collection of 1,360 individuals drawn from 879 high schools in 46 American states and 44 countries. By design, you defy expectations. You have a dynamic, multifaceted peer group. Ask questions. Listen. Avoid assumptions. Be open to new things. Celebrate your individuality while embracing your common bonds.
Our application invited you to “Let your life speak.” And you did! The women’s health advocate from India was self-deprecating: “I'm an awkwardly plump, asthmatic teenager who’s always falling down for no reason…and I’m always up for an adventure.” The figure skater from Sioux Falls announced, “I’m a South Dakota-bred Renaissance Woman whose curiosity soars freely across the open prairie…”
Sometimes a single phrase illuminated your personal vibe: “I speak three languages but calculus is my true native tongue;" "I’m an atheist living in the Bible Belt;" “I’m a romantic with a pragmatic twist.”
You are the products of your environments, and those places are as different as a 200-year old farmhouse in Andover, Mass., “a cottage by a creek in a pocket of wilderness tucked in the middle of Silicon Valley,” a refugee camp in Ivory Coast, a suburban cul-de-sac in New Jersey, a Vermont village of 567 people, the canals of Venice and a traditional Japanese Shinto shrine in Beijing. A Nebraskan mused about her “little house on the metropolitan prairie” while the urban newspaper editor from Connecticut observed, “I grew up in my city’s no-man's land where race and class lines are not so clear…” A continent away, the violinist from Chugiak, Alaska told us he skied home from school while watching the Northern Lights.
You arrive in Medford from Washington Heights, Washington, DC and Ellensburg, Washington; from Grosse Pointe, Michigan and Wheeling, West Virginia; from Casa Grande, Arizona and Grand Bay, Alabama; from Harare, Zimbabwe and Zug, Switzerland. Three hail from Mississippi. The valedictorian from Beattyville, Kentucky told us, “My little home is the typical, impoverished southern town, smack dab in the Bible Belt, and yes, we love our fried chicken and mashed taters,” while the pre-med from Somerville offered a harrowing narrative of survival: "I have been a refugee for more than half of my life, and waking up safe in the morning and having food was a miracle."
You represent many walks of life and blended, multicultural identities are common. Including foreign citizens, a third of you are non-Caucasian. Sixty-four languages are spoken in your homes and 185 freshmen live outside the United States. The field hockey recruit from Northern New Jersey reported, "I was born in Texas to British-Pakistani parents, and my house is a mixture of British slang, American phrases, and Urdu."
The new Jumbo from Macedonia offered a personal reflection on the evolving nature of geopolitics: "My grandfather, father and I were born in three different countries, and yet in the same town.” The 38 citizens of China represent the largest foreign contingent—plus another eight from Hong Kong—but our parade of nations also includes new Jumbos with passports from Botswana, Ecuador, Estonia, Jordan, Peru, Sweden and Rwanda. Two of you are from Myanmar.
Your humor is evident. The Sri Lankan EMT from New Jersey quipped, "If Helen of Troy was the face that launched a thousand ships, then my morning face is the one that sent them running back.” (I thought that was detail her roommate should know.) And the ballroom dancer from China told us, "My friends say my laugh is weird but contagious, while my parents name it as the number one reason why I might never get married.”
Speaking of parents, they frequently surfaced as topics in your applications. A gal from Brooklyn reported, “My friends gasp in disbelief when I tell them I eat a candlelit dinner at my dining room table every night with my parents." You are the children of teachers, hedge fund managers and documentary filmmakers. A contributor to Good Morning, America, a soap opera star, a senior colonel in Shanghai’s aerospace military and a contract worker in Afghanistan all have children in this entering class. So does a Jamaican nanny from Boston and an Indiana coal miner; a nail salon artist from Hackensack and a United flight attendant from Honolulu; a dairy farmer in Maine, a scripture director at an Iowa church, a pharmacist in Tokyo and the editorial director at the Council on Foreign Relations.
Just like me (and several of us on this stage), 138 freshmen are first-generation college bound. On the other hand, 18 are the children of Tufts faculty and 118 are the sons and daughters of Tufts alumni. That includes 24 freshmen who claim two Jumbo parents—several of whom met during freshman orientation… (Just saying...)
Say hello to the gay atheist from the corn fields of Minnesota, the Thai photographer featured in Italian Vogue, the Turkish feminist who fights for gender equity in her homeland, and the Teen Jeopardy contestant from Chicago. A blogger for the Huffington Post, an Appalachian clog dancer from Michigan, a Bulgarian rocker, and a chicken farmer from Cape Cod sit among you. So does a deep-sea fisherman from Fort Lauderdale who doubles as a semi-pro hockey player. And let’s not overlook the young businessman from Istanbul who started his own clothing brand. He announced, "I love making money and I will connect with those who share my passion for innovation while I learn how to woo women with my sweet talk about finance…." You are forewarned.
The wrestler from Mequon, Wisconsin is one of 47 high school valedictorians in the Class of ‘19. He’s joined by a tap-dancing chemical engineer from Bend, Oregon; a Medford altar boy who works as a box office attendant at the Somerville Theater in Davis Square; a stand-up comedian from Nashville; a tour guide at the U.S. Capitol; and the tomato at Vermont’s annual Chili Festival.
We welcome 215 recruited athletes (go ‘Bos!), the Singaporean naval officer trained in underwater combat, and a sponsored downhill skateboarder from Cambridge, Mass. We salute our 57 National Merit Scholars; New Hampshire’s representative to Boys’ Nation and Maine’s delegate to Girls’ Nation; the three-time Surf Cup champion from San Diego; the winner of the downhill outhouse race in Bristol, Vermont; and the second-ranked high school debater in China.
The Admissions Committee was intrigued by the ukulele playing unicyclist from New York City, the Guatemalan immigrant who wrote computer code on napkins during his lunch break at McDonalds, and the MUN captain from Kiev who offered reports on the Ukrainian Revolution via Facebook as his community service project. And how could we ignore the culinary talents of the bio major from Dallas, PA who worked part-time at her parents’ pizzeria. She told us, "I can make a half BBQ, half extra bacon pizza on whole-wheat crust, thick style, in less than 10 minutes.”
Someone once asked, “What’s in a name?” Well, here are a few highlights. Georgios Frantzis Phylactopoulos from Athens owns the longest name in the freshman class with 30 letters and, with five, Ge Gao from Shanghai has the shortest. Daniel and John joined forces to dethrone Ben as the most popular names in the entering class, but Alex remains the unisex champ with 34 men and women answering when called. Your parents may have named you Emily and Matt but many answer to a wide array of nicknames. The class features the usual assortment of Jacks and Jakes as well as Bibi, Fifi, Gigi and Izzy—a quartet that’s just fun to say! But my annual shout out for most original moniker is the gal from Maryland known as “Chopper.”
We wondered, “Why Tufts?” A Nepalese soccer player didn’t want to choose between dueling passions: “I can be an engineer without losing touch with my artistic, romantic side." Others appreciated our vibe: “Tufts is filled with witty personalities, and I see it as a fit…for this a quiet, indignant feminist with an unquenchable thirst for indie pop.” Another confessed, “I was one of those kids in class who raised his hand at every single opportunity….Tufts brings out the curious kid inside me.” But perhaps my favorite response came from the gay debater who told us he went from eating solitary lunches in school to being Student Government President: “Tufts is the only place that can handle me,” he said. Bring it.
On behalf of my colleagues in Undergraduate Admissions, welcome to the Jumbo herd, my friends. Go make some magic.