Alumni Weekend, Remarks from Caroline Wamsler '87 Honoring Farnham Collins '53

When I arrived on this bucolic campus on a sunny day in the waning days of summer in 1984, my English was functional at best. For those of you who do not know me: I was born and raised outside of Munich, Germany, and other then some summer visits to the United States, my enrollment here at Millbrook marks my first real adventure on this side of the Atlantic. As part of the required curriculum of a Millbrook sophomore, I enrolled in World History, and it is there that I first encountered Mr. Collins. I think he is probably better remembered for his many years in the math classroom, or his much respected AP European History Class – a course that produced many-a Blain History Award winner and about which one of my classmates said yesterday: “Until I took Mr. Collins’ AP History class, I thought I was smart.” But my first encounter with him took place in this introductory class. And yes, as I was preparing for today, I found the textbook: Our Common Heritage: A World History. Meticulously highlight throughout, it looks more like a ‘Color By Number’ project than a history textbook, clearly an indicator that it is a good thing I became an art historian and not a historian. Brief consultation confirms that we indeed covered world history from the ancient world to the Vietnam War, the founding of the Republic of Egypt, and the departure of the Shah from modern day Iran. Almost thirty years later, the view of history is surely a different one!

 

Honestly though, what I remember from my experience as a student in our honoree’s class is not the history of the world, but it is the teacher and the non-historical things he taught. He arrived at class as the true gentlemen we know until today: often wearing his iconic English sporting cap and the silver-rimmed glasses with books and papers in hand, commanding instant respect. He engaged us with his passion for history, knowledge and learning, modeled character and elegance in his mere presence, and taught us about responsible citizenship.
 

Don’t be fooled, though. In addition to these high and overarching ideals, he never shied away from the basics. For example, one day in the late fall right before returning essays he wrote HOW and WHO on the blackboard. He asked for the difference in the two words and then held forth on the bewitched silent "h" in the English language and challenges of non-phonetic spelling. At the time I thought is was for the benefit of the entire class – now, of course, I am fairly confident that my classmates, all of whom were native English speakers, surely knew the difference between "how" and "who" since third grade! Similarly, it was Mr. Collins who forever helped me remember that "A LOT" is not one word. He did so by putting an “A” on the left blackboard and “LOT” on the other. ‘And never shall the twine meet in one word’ – he declared with the regalness of the King of England! Finally, it is thanks to him that sometime in 1986 I learned the difference between a crick and a creek.

 

While he was no longer a dorm parent by the time I arrived on campus, we did encounter him in a variety of rolls, most memorably as the Master of the Hunt when it met here on the hill behind the old gym. High atop a horse he really seemed no different from the Mr. Collins we knew in the classroom, he had simply swapped out his students for teams of four-legged and two-legged athletes, which he did not lead through the mysteries of algebra or world history, but instead through the thickets of the Dutchess County countryside.

 

In the years since I left Millbrook School, our paths have crossed on several occasions. He has been ever interested and engaged, encouraging and challenging about my path. And then about five years ago on a faithful afternoon, the tables turned and here I stood in front of group of eager students as I delivered my first lecture in what has become the “Millbrook Art Class.” And, yes, there he was, sitting upright and elegant as ever, right alongside Anne, in the first row – ready, well prepared, and eager to learn. Yes, the tables had turned, the student became the teacher, and the teacher became the student, and if you think it was intimidating to have him as a teacher, try having him as a student!
 

The truth be told though, all the things that made him a remarkable and memorable teacher make him a perfect student: he is a true humanist with an unquenchable hunger for knowledge, a deep love of history, and a great eye for good art. Five years later I am happy to report that he has perfect attendance, is always well prepared, and if there were exams and papers he would surely receive only A's. As he did 28 years ago, he continues to push me to do my best and models for all of us a life-long passion for learning.

 

While these are my stories, I am confident that many of you have similar experiences to tell. Farnham Collins was and remains a teacher through and through, and his teachings touched many of us in many ways. In life we measure achievements in big markers and big events, but in everyday life the greatest achievements are the small ones. It is in many many small ways and some very big ways in which he touched his students and Millbrook School. He taught basic tools and planted seeds for great goals and hopes, he gave confidence and taught us to celebrate and respect the power of knowledge, he mentored us during our time here at Millbrook and often thereafter, and he continues to model excellence for us in his every fiber. Dear Farnham, I – as a representative of all your students – thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you have done for generations of Millbrook students. If every seed you planted in each of us had grown into a tree, there would surely be a forest by now. We are thrilled to be here and see you receive this Distinguished Alumni Award – an award given today to an alumnus in celebration and gratitude of the years of service to Millbrook School and its students.

 

Thank you.