2005 Founder's Day Award
Recipient
citation
Remarks by Nathaniel G Butler
'64
May 20, 2005
Thank you for your kind words of introduction.
Now that you students at Exeter have been here for
at least one full academic year, you have probably
heard from a number of alumni/ae who have inspiring
tales to tell about what they have done in their professional
careers. Although I had a stellar experience here
as a student and although I wish I could count myself
among those alumni/ae who have a stellar professional
career, as a middle-level bureaucrat in the Massachusetts
state government, I honestly cannot. And, despite
having graduated 30 years ago from Harvard Business
School, that bastion of capitalism, I have never earned
over $100,000 a year -- which is less than the average
starting salary for students graduating from that
school this year. As if to rub salt in the wound,
two of my classmates at Harvard Business School are
Mitt Romney, the governor of the state to our south,
and George Bush. Careerwise, I am not in their company.
Nevertheless, by describing what I have done in one
of my avocations—the one centered on Exeter—I
hope I can offer you some inspiration from a source
other than one’s career, and give you an example
of the personal success I have enjoyed and of having
made a rewarding contribution—without being
President of the United States or making a large amount
of money.
I’d like to take you back, briefly, to what
the world was like when I was a student here at Exeter
from 1960 to 1964. One thing which was different then
was the sense of idealism and of a new beginning in
the entire country, with the election of John F. Kennedy
as President. Despite the frightening aspect of the
Cold War, and Communist Russia, and what was then
the relatively new threat of nuclear weapons, there
was also a sense, with our vigorous new president,
that things could be made better in the world. He
stirred us all with the selfless challenge in his
Inaugural Address, “Ask not what your country
can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.”
Another, somewhat related, difference in our society
in the early 1960s was a much less pronounced preoccupation
with money, and all the material things which money
can buy. Certainly money was around then, and some
people had a lot of it, but it was not flaunted as
much. And there was not so much stuff to buy with
it. I can remember Larry Rockefeller being a student
here then, and even though everyone knew his family
had gobs and gobs of money, somehow it did not matter
much, or elevate his status here as a student. Also,
there were not as many things to buy in those days.
Cell phones and personal computers and HDTVs did not
exist. We had one pay phone per dormitory, if you
can imagine that, and one television set per dormitory,
in the common room, which was highly restricted in
when it could be used. While America was certainly
a society which depended on consumerism in those days,
it was at a much less frantic pace. And the salaries
which were paid to the most highly compensated people
were much smaller then than is the case now. I read
the other day of a chief executive officer who received
$30 million for one year’s work. As much as
any of us might like to have that amount of money,
I don’t feel that anyone’s work is worth
$30 million in one year, certainly not when over 40
million individuals in this country lack health insurance.
With those points in mind—the courageous idealism
of the early 1960s, and the relatively less significant
emphasis on money and the accumulation of personal
wealth—I would like to describe two incidents
which were important to me, and which inspired me,
both of which occurred in this Assembly Hall.
The first event took place in my upper year, 1963,
and it took all of us students, and most everyone
else, by surprise. The Principal in those days was
William G. Saltonstall, known as “Salty.”
He had been at the school then for 31 years, and principal
for 17 years. In other words, no one thought he was
going anywhere else, as he neared his 60th birthday.
However, one day he came into this room for what was
then morning Chapel, and told us he was resigning
from Exeter, and going to become one of the leaders
of President Kennedy’s newly formed Peace Corps.
Salty was going to Lagos, Nigeria.
It is very difficult to convey to you today how electric
that announcement was. Our new President, John Kennedy,
was attempting to advance the well-being of citizens
in other countries by having Americans go to these
countries and work on projects to improve such areas
as education and public health. And Kennedy had chosen
our guy, our principal, to be a leader in this effort.
All of us would miss Salty, and we rose and gave him
a standing ovation which seemed to go on for hours,
as if somehow our clapping might cause him to stay
with us.
Today, by contrast, we have a president who is recruiting
individuals to help deal with a war he began in Iraq.
As talented a man as Tyler Tingley is, I cannot imagine,
and would not want, George Bush picking up the phone
to ask him to go to Iraq and help make things better
over there. Regardless of your political views, I
think we can all agree that the world is a very different
one today from what it was in the early 1960s. But
what I want to leave you with concerning this incident
is the courage and dedication and fortitude of this
former Exeter principal, deciding to enter his so-called
“golden years” in Africa instead of in
a gentle retirement community stateside.
The other event I want to mention today is when I
came back to Exeter as an alumnus in 1991, 14 years
ago, to speak about being a gay person here at Assembly.
This event was enormously important to me because
I felt at last I was able to be honest about myself
with this school which had helped me learn the importance
of personal honesty and integrity. I wanted to help
bring about some change from my lonely experience
here as a gay student in the 1960s.
Again, it is difficult to convey to you what it was
like here in the early 1960s. Although, generally,
my experience as a student here was extremely positive,
being gay here then was an experience in deep isolation,
feeling that no one else was like you. It was not
unlike being dropped, behind enemy lines, into a foreign
country, without knowing the language. There was no
one I could talk to. So I just kept silent.
At that time, homosexuality was classified as a psychiatric
illness. Gay people were arrested, even in New York
City, simply for being in what were then hidden and
secretive gay bars. Being revealed as a gay person
could end your career, and ruin your personal life,
sometimes resulting in suicide.
Gay students were invisible here then, and faculty
who were suspected of being gay were derided, behind
their backs, of course. I am guilty of having made
nasty remarks myself about a gay faculty member in
those days because I wanted to try to differentiate
myself from people like him. I was afraid others might
think I was gay, so I attacked the reputation of another
gay person. I participated in the tyranny of homophobia
as did others in this community at that time, a disabling
prejudice, to use the phrase of former principal Kendra
O’Donnell.
Remembering how disabling my experience was as a
gay student at this school, despite my great success
otherwise here, I volunteered to return in 1991 to
discuss my situation in the hope of reducing the isolation
of other gay students who were here in the early 1990s,
and also to help all individuals in the Academy’s
community, both straight and gay, become more comfortable
with each other. After I gave my talk, I mailed a
copy of it to one of my former English teachers here.
He wrote me a reply in which he said, “Such
honesty, on such a topic, would have been unthinkable
when you were a student here.”
Now I have to tell you, the powers that be here at
Exeter were not at first entirely comfortable with
my efforts to raise the consciousness on the gay issue.
When I was a new alumnus, involved with less controversial
undertakings, Exeter was very grateful for the fundraising
I did, for the other alumni/ae projects I contributed
to, and for the small scholarship fund I established.
However, this school, as wonderful as it is, is somewhat
conservative. The public discussion about gayness
here at Exeter did not begin until 1989, when being
gay was publicly discussed for the first time by some
alumni/ae who spoke here at Assembly. I followed them
by 2 years, for what was then only the second time
this topic had been discussed openly in a large forum
at this school. I felt the discomfort of those in
Exeter’s administration as I wrote to the class
officers of classes in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s
to ask them to consider having an event during their
reunion weekends for the gay members of their classes.
(None of these class officers agreed to have such
a reunion event, but at least they listened to me,
and had to consider the idea.) As I continued my efforts
to connect with Exeter’s gay and lesbian alumni/ae
over the following years, I wondered how concerned
those in the Academy’s administration might
be about what I was doing since, during the same years,
an Academy instructor was fired for possessing and
mailing child pornography. The conservative parents
of some students could have conceivably objected to
my efforts.
However, to Exeter’s credit, I was supported
in what I did, and the support increased as my work
continued. Also, many others on campus and in the
alumni/ae community contributed to these efforts.
I was certainly not acting alone. The gay and lesbian
alumni/ae and students were enthusiastic about Exeter
becoming more open and welcoming. Also, I believe
straight members of the community were able to understand
better the lives of the gays and lesbians in their
midst, and to become more comfortable as well. And
personally, it was extremely gratifying to help educate
an institution which had been so crucial in my own
education and personal development.
You will all receive magnificent educations at this
school, as I did, possibly the best educational experience
you will have in your lives. Remember, as well, that
as you can learn from Exeter, so can Exeter learn
from you. As the school’s charter says, “goodness
without knowledge is weak and feeble…”
The Exeter community has been able to increase its
knowledge of gays and lesbians in the past 15 years,
and, I believe, it is a better community for having
done so.
For four years I sat where you are sitting now, and
I never once imagined that I might have something
worth saying to an audience such as you are. I believe
for a certainty that at least one of you here today,
and I hope more than one, will some day be the recipient
of the Founder’s Day award. So I encourage you
to be alert to those individuals and ideas which inspire
you, which stimulate your curiosity, and which encourage
you to make a contribution to our society.
I encourage you to think hard about what contribution
you want to make—both here at Exeter, while
you are still a student, and in the world, after you
graduate. Do not be afraid to be a voice in the wilderness,
or to take on a challenge, as Salty did! If you are
articulate and thoughtful, you may soon find you are
no longer in the wilderness, but that others are paying
attention to your intelligent passion. When you speak
up, from the courage of your convictions, you may
be surprised at how powerful your words can be. Help
others to learn the important lessons you have learned,
and be ready to learn those lessons which others will
describe to you.
As a wise woman once said, “Character is not
inherited. One builds it daily by the way one thinks
and acts, thought by thought, action by action.”
Go for it!
back to top
