Lessons Learned from Barnard Women

I came to Barnard for the first time for a tour and interview rather reluctantly. Convinced that a women’s college was a place where students marched around burning bras and hating men, I had no interest. I stepped out of the taxi with my father and a notebook full of questions that I was sure would confirm my thoughts. When I stepped through the gates I had an instantaneous terrible feeling—I could tell I was going to be wrong. The feeling only continued as I took the tour of the beautiful campus, listened to an admissions counselor speak during the information session, and interviewed with a senior who I wanted to be my best friend. But it wasn’t until I sat in on a class that I knew I would absolutely have no choice but to give in and accept that I did not, in fact, know everything.

A first-year seminar course taught by Timea Szell, Director of the Creative Writing Program.

It was a first-year seminar and the students were discussing Hamlet. A debate ensued over whether Hamlet’s mother was a symbol of female strength or of female weakness. It was so intense that I was scared one young woman was going to lunge across the oak seminar table. The professor let the students debate, only occasionally asking one of them to clarify her point. When the class ended, the students all broke into laughter and headed to Hewitt to grab lunch together. I desperately wanted to return for the next class. At the end of my day on campus I decided to apply and Barnard became my first choice.

While all of you might not have had the same gut feeling when you visited, or may not even have had a chance to visit, you can still get a feel for Barnard. When you look on the website at the students, do you envision yourself spending time with them? Can you look at the list of clubs and decide which ones you would want to join? Does our course catalog make your head spin when you think about how you will fit in all the interesting courses? When you opened that letter, what was your first thought?

I’ll leave you with one final story.

My sophomore year at Barnard I took a course entitled “Reading Barnard Writing.” It was a course entirely dedicated to reading the books Barnard alumnae had written. The syllabus: Jeannette Walls’ The Glass Castle, Jhumpa Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies, and Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying. Major topics were being discussed—Greenwich Village bohemianism, sexual liberation, the rise of the ethnic American identity—and all by Barnard women. While I sat hunched over my desk attempting to write a decent paper on Eve as a feminist hero in Paradise Lost, I envisioned Zora Neale Hurston sitting out on the lawn penning early drafts of Their Eyes Were Watching God. I was in awe.

English Department Book Swap

As the semester came to a conclusion and finals loomed, Professor Sharpe, in his very unique style that always stressed love of learning over academic convention (the requirements section of the syllabus read, “The only real requirement is that you find something in this course useful to you in your own life”) announced our final assignment: create a project to present to class that is meaningful. A classmate of mine and I decided to contact as many Barnard authors as we could and requested brief interviews that we planned to compile into a sort of homemade documentary.

We began to discover patterns forming in the interviews. All of the interviews evolved into intimate conversations. They all said Barnard had an immense influence on their lives, and greatly credited the institution for their successes. They all fondly remembered professors who had made an impact. But amongst all these commonalities, one struck me as particularly powerful. When discussing their favorite things about Barnard, all the women had virtually the same answer. Their favorite things about Barnard were the women studying beside them.

Each writer, as writers do, coined this sentiment in slightly different ways. Cathy Horyn called it spunk. Erica Jong said they had a sparkle, a pizzazz. Mary Gordon said they were simply the best women around. Anna Quindlen called them downright inspiring. I remember sitting listening to these women speaking. Suddenly, I was not in awe only for their beautiful writing, I was in awe of the “Barnard Woman” they described. This woman seemed vaguely familiar, the woman I had dreamt of being while I read the Barnard brochure anxiously awaiting my interview in the Admissions office. I knew she was who I wanted to be, I just didn’t know how I would get there.

Looking at the friends that I made at Barnard and who we all are today, I can confidently say that we have become “Barnard Women.” Barnard women are brave and independent, fiercely intelligent, hard-working, creative, and we know how to have fun. When I meet another Barnard alumna I always feel an instant connection.

They have all become downright inspiring women.

Now the question is, will you?

Alexandra