When I was little (we’re talking four or five here), my dad would take me down to the basement of Sawyer and we would take out a movie. Since my dad is a political science professor, we weren’t checking out Aladdin or Dumbo. Instead, he introduced me to the Mikado, Carmen, The Pirates of Penzance, The Magic Flute, La Bohème, and more operas and Gilbert and Sullivan than the average toddler can pronounce. I would sit in the monkey carrels and try to make sense of the words etched into the decades-old wood while he looked for the preferred version of HMS Pinafore.
Now that I’m actually a member of the class of 2018, it’s weird to think that I won’t be studying in those carrels or going through the secret underground tunnel from Stetson to Sawyer (which, to a five year old, is the coolest thing ever). As much as I hate to admit it, my dad was right to show me that art at a young age. Knowing the queen of the night’s aria isn’t exactly useful on the MCAS, but it made me feel like I was on to something special and unique. So, thank you Sawyer. Thanks for the operas, for the carrels, for the winding staircase and secret tunnel, and thanks for always having a copy of Carmen on hand.