From Hope Coolidge:

Those of us with a Williams spouse, especially one as devoted to the college as mine, Mark Brown ‘74, have the mostly delightful opportunity to attend two reunions every 5 years.  Crazy, I know.  Every reunion weekend though, without fail, I find myself in a rewarding conversation with someone I never knew when I was a student, as well as with classmates I haven’t seen since we left college. Sometimes it’s just fun to be with and talk about our lives with someone who knew me when I was “that young”, before becoming defined by careers, or marriage, or kids.

​

And when my social battery runs down, I go for a hike or a swim, wander around the (new) library, read a book, get a grilled honeybun and find myself a cozy place to sit and eat it.

​

At Mark’s 50th, conversations skimmed over the “organ recital” (hips, knees, shoulders replaced, etc.) and winding down careers, to the “what now” questions – people’s plans for how to continue to learn and contribute as we get older.  There were fascinating talks and panels organized by the class, ranging from the future of nonprofit theater in Berkshire County to the story of the founding of an international organization to prevent women’s trafficking through women’s entrepreneurship, by a pioneering alumna from the class of 1974.  There was a time set aside for remembering classmates who had died.

​

The college is so welcoming, the student reunion workers enthusiastic and warm, the campus beautiful in rain or shine.  I remember the years 1971-1975 mostly happily – a time in one’s life when emotions ran so close to the surface, with intense relationship drama, and friend drama, and of course all the challenges of a rigorous curriculum.  If you are reluctant to take the plunge to return after 50 years, don’t be!  Come find me and let’s talk.  I’ve heard from both 1974 and 1975 alumni attending their first reunions, some having unhappy memories from their college years, who were pleasantly surprised how welcomed they felt.  Everyone has a story, and most of us seem to have become good listeners over the years.

​

 

Rich Pickard gives his reasons:

When I was a Williams student, I was not very mature. I had a group of friends, and it was no risk to hang around with them. So I did!

 

After I left Williams, I began to realize what an extraordinary group of students I went to school with. I also realized that there were many of my fellow students who I did not know and who I wish that I did know. I went to a reunion or some alumni activities near where I lived, and I began to meet interesting, talented, friendly people who went to Williams. I found lots of other people, who, like me, may not have been the most open and engaging people when we were students, but after we left, we began to appreciate what we had in common by going to school in the Purple Valley. We benefited from others’ willingness to open their circle of friends. You can too!

 

If you’ve gone to a Williams reunion, you know. But if you’ve written off Williams because of experiences you had when you were a student there, it might be time to give us another try. You too will likely find that folks who return now are much friendlier. We have matured a bit. We are past the stage of trying to one-up our classmates with our accomplishments. Life has set in. Many of us are dealing with serious illnesses, death, divorce or other issues in our lives or those of family members.

 

We now realize you don’t have to be perfect to have attended Williams. We can be there for each other with the frequency that makes sense given our circumstances. Real friendships can be made for the first time or you can reconnect after a hiatus.

​

Give our 50th Reunion a try. You stand an excellent chance of having a wonderful time!

​

 

And so does Nancy Reece Jones:

​I’m an unabashed fan of our class reunions. From them, I’ve derived a confidence, a sense of belonging, that eluded me during my four years at Williams. 

 

My first reunion, our 10th, was a watershed moment—literally. I enjoyed the meet-and-greet gathering the first evening, yet returning to the little single dorm room that night triggered an unexpected catharsis. All my demons from those years of feeling like an outsider, yearning to connect with others but not knowing how, hit me like a tsunami. I sobbed and sobbed. It was my own mini-exorcism, freeing me from that buried past and enabling me, emotionally, to take my rightful place in our class. 

 

Since then, I’ve become a regular at our reunions. They’re fun, stimulating, and rejuvenating, both socially and intellectually. It’s been as satisfying to spend moments with classmates I barely knew as those with whom I shared classes and dorms. I follow my natural curiosity into conversations with those I once felt to be way out of my league or with whom I never crossed paths, and invariably feel enriched. 

 

Many presume that reunions are rife with reminiscences about old times. Maybe for some, but that’s not my shtick. I find learning about classmates’ life journeys far more compelling than trading stories from decades past. 

 

What brings me back to the Purple Valley every five years is the knowledge that I’m going to have a terrific time. By virtue of being a Williams alum, I’m part of a remarkable community of people whose lives are rich with experiences, accomplishments, passions, and challenges—both personally and professionally. I just need to show up and be open, to laugh and learn and leave full-hearted. What a treat!