Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

The Dean and I | Part 5

Oasis_in_Libya, Wikimedia.org

Oasis in Libya

I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying this series! I thought it would be over and done with by now. But my mind keeps remembering things I want to tell you about.

Working for Mr. Griswold was an incredibly positive experience during the early years of our marriage. For me, it was a milestone.

I wasn’t yet 25 years old. In some ways, my experience with Mr. Griswold is similar to my experience with Mrs. Hanks, my piano teacher from age 9 through 16. Both knew and accepted me just as I was, yet didn’t leave me there.

As for Mr. Griswold, here’s a man I can trust! That’s so big I could just stop right here and cry my eyes out. They’re already tearing up.

It isn’t about his age or how he looks, or even who he is and what he does. It’s that he’s the exact opposite of my First Boss. I’ve gone from the worst boss I ever had to the best boss I ever had! What are the chances of that happening?

Back then I didn’t know he was my best boss ever. But now, decades later, looking back at the mostly male bosses I’ve worked for and with, Mr. Griswold stands at the top of the list.

Mr. Griswold helped me become the person I am. He wasn’t the only boss who did that. Still, when it comes to integrity, excellence, humanity and trustworthiness, he was the Best.

I didn’t know back then that I’d end up becoming an educator—a professor, and then a dean. I would have laughed in your face if you’d suggested this possibility. Crazy! Yet I clearly absorbed something that carried over a bit from those years of working in Mr. Griswold’s office.

Being on his team wasn’t always easy. The workload was constant. I didn’t sit around twiddling my thumbs, wondering what I might do next.

At the same time, I never felt I was doing it all by myself, without adequate support, or without genuine affirmation from Mr. Griswold. He and my coworkers knew what I was doing and the value of my work. Just as I knew what they were doing and the value of their work.

This was a huge gift. It grew me up as an employee. It’s the point at which I came of age. An adult. Responsible and mature, even though I didn’t always feel I was.

This job also gave me a point of reference. I didn’t read about this in a book. I experienced it for myself! It wasn’t just pie in the sky by and by. It was evidence that a workplace could be life-giving instead of death-dealing.

I’m not saying it was heaven every day. It wasn’t. Sometimes we were stressed out by unexpected circumstances or by unexpected personality issues. Yet I never felt a co-worker was after me, or anything less than happy to have me on the team.

The last point I want to comment on is this. I wasn’t simply a new employee; I was a new wife. Just married! And also, by the way, in a brand new to me location, culture, city, academic community, church, you name it. It was NEW. Heavenly and hellish. Both at the same time.

I’ll say more about early marriage in later posts. Right now I just want to say this: Working in the dean’s office of the Harvard Law School was like finding an unexpected oasis in the middle of a sometimes vast and lonely desert.

When I arrived at work in the morning, coworkers knew my name, what I did, and how to interact with me. It didn’t happen overnight; but it happened quickly.

I needed that oasis. That safe place ‘where everybody knows my name.’ Cheers!

To be continued. . . .

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 6 April 2015
Photo from Wikimedia.org

shiny cars

FRASER_S_0326

shiny cars
dingy townhouses
bare trees

gray sky
single street light
snow route Read the rest of this entry »

The Dean and I | Part 4

FRASER_S_0330President Nathan M. Pusey and Dean Erwin N. Griswold
Harvard Law School Commencement, 1967

Who is Erwin N. Griswold? Click here for a summary of his life and service. Big things. Important things. For me, the little things made all the difference. Here are several small, telling memories. Read the rest of this entry »

Easter Lilies and Justice | Dear Diane

Easter Lilies

Dear Diane,
Funny how things come together: Easter lilies, our first apartment, and Mr. Griswold.

Easter Sunday always reminds me of you. Read the rest of this entry »

The Dean and I | Part 3

Harvard Dean's Office, 4, Elouise 1965

Let’s start with this lovely photo.

The Yard
Remember that gorgeous yard outside Langdell Hall? Well, it’s right outside the window just behind me. See that sleeveless blouse I’m wearing? Read the rest of this entry »

by the feet

George and Louisa MacDonald with their 11 children
plus eldest daughter Mary’s fiancé

Maybe it’s my age. Or the ever-present reality of death in our media-saturated world. I’m grateful for these words from George MacDonald. Good Friday invites me to consider death with my eyes wide open.

March 21 and 22

O Lord, when I do think of my departed,
I think of thee who art the death of parting;
Of him who crying Father breathed his last,
Then radiant from the sepulchre upstarted.—
Even then, I think, thy hands and feet kept smarting:
With us the bitterness of death is past,
But by the feet he still doth hold us fast.

Therefore our hands thy feet do hold as fast.
We pray not to be spared the sorest pang,
But only—be thou with us to the last.
Let not our heart be troubled at the clang
Of hammer and nails, nor dread the spear’s keen fang,
Nor the ghast sickening that comes of pain,
Nor yet the last clutch of the banished brain.

George MacDonald, Diary of an Old Soul,
© 1994 Augsburg Fortress Press

Here, as in an earlier entry, MacDonald thinks about the four children he has lost to death. He longs to be with them. No one where they are now can possibly love them as he does.

Yet as great as his fatherly love is, he would “die of grief to love you only so.” That is, from afar. From this side of death.

He notes that his Lord is “the death of parting.” This gives him hope; the distance between him and his children will end someday.

He imagines that the resurrection, as wonderful as it was, still left Jesus with pain in his hands and feet. The bitterness of death was removed, yet “by the feet he still doth hold us fast”—with his “smarting” hands. Death isn’t the last word; nonetheless, it’s painful. It leaves scars, and empty seats around the table. The deathly silence of missing voices.

Because of this, MacDonald vows to hold Jesus’ “smarting” feet just as tightly as Jesus holds him. As though glued to each other. Inseparable. It’s the only way he can imagine making the journey from this world to the place where his children have gone.

And there’s one more challenge. No matter how much he tries, he can’t hold fast to Jesus’ scarred feet all by himself. His holding on depends on the strong, scarred hands of Jesus holding him. Lest he stray from the path.

Jesus has been through his death. Four of MacDonald’s eleven children have been through theirs. Now it’s MacDonald’s turn, and he knows he won’t make it unless Jesus holds his feet “to the last.”

“But by the feet he still doth hold us fast.”

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 April 2015, Good Friday
Edited on Good Friday, 30 March 2018
Photo found at georgemacdonald.info

The Dean and I | Part 2

Dean's Office Langdell 2,1965

Mr. Griswold’s office, 1965

A grandfatherly looking gentleman opens his office door and comes out to greet me. He’s wearing a plain dark gray suit and a tie. He has graying hair and a serious yet friendly face. I like his unassuming demeanor. This is not what I expected. Read the rest of this entry »

carried away

Good Girl Rule #8:
Don’t display too much emotion verbally or bodily,
whether positive or negative
(especially pride, joy, excitement, anger or general rowdiness) Read the rest of this entry »

The Dean and I | Part 1

Langdell_Hall,_Harvard_Law_School,_Cambridge_MA

Langdell Hall, Harvard Law School 

In late September 1965 I get a call from the university. I’d filled out a job inquiry at the employment office. This was the first and only call I got. Would I please come in for an interview? The Dean of the law school Read the rest of this entry »

Pink Bunny | By Request

Here it is–just the recipe you’ve been looking for! Straight from my ancient Betty Crocker cook book!

Pink Bunny

“This is an easy Sunday supper dish for busy mothers,” says Inez-Muriel McLaughlin, formerly of our staff. Read the rest of this entry »