Everyone's Just Two…Three…Four Degrees of Separation from Dick Celeste
Everyone's Just Two…Three…Four Degrees
of Separation from Dick Celeste
By Anne Christensen
Photos by Owen Riss
Never play Six Degrees of Separation with Dick Celeste. The new president of Colorado College knows everyone, has been everywhere-and he remembers it all: every name, every conversation, every place. Each new person he meets, he connects to some prior experience in a way that benefits or at least implicitly elevates both. It's far beyond a skill - it's an art form, and Celeste is a practicing master.
President Celeste Celeste holds walk-in office hours in the Worner Center every week. One student might request money for a campus organization, another might ask for guidance in pursuit of a goal. But first, Celeste makes a personal connection within two, three, at most four questions - every student, every time.
Where are you from? Oh really, do you know so-and-so? I met her at thus-and-such an event in 1982, I think… What do your parents do there? Oh, I wonder whether they've worked with a former staffer of mine, what's her married name? Oh, I know, it's … What's your major? Now tell me, how does that connect to (insert government agency), because I know someone there you might want to speak with.
One October day, Celeste sits in Worner 117 leafing through papers. When senior class officers Quana Rochelle and Scott Burger approach, he stashes the papers, turns his full attention to their report on commencement speaker balloting. Celeste grins. "At least Martin Sheen's the only current president on this list."
Bill Morton and Wyn Jewett enter next. Jewett's from New York City, and Celeste asks how he got to CC, identifies a mutual family acquaintance. Morton describes the campus computer network as "spiraling downward." Confessing he knows little about T1 lines and bandwidth restrictions, Celeste asks whether they've met with ITS. His cell phone rings.
Senator? Senator? I want to get you out here. Are you doing Olympic stuff? Then you gotta come out here. I'm having a ball here, the energy you get back from the young people, and being in a place where intellectual issues matter…"
Celeste returns quickly to the students. "Sorry about that, Bill Bradley there." He hones in on specific technical questions, says he'll look into whether ITS prevents them from switching to Adelphia cable service. He asks, "What's the policy issue, and what's the system issue? Maybe I can arrange for you to sit down with a team of ITS people." They agree on a follow-up date.
President Celeste Next in, Peter Maiurro and Lucas Farnham. Celeste recalls a trip to Farnham's hometown of Bend, Ore., asks about sophomore slump. Farnham says as class president, he's too busy. Right now, they're planning a bowling activity. Celeste lights up: "Flashing lights, bowling until 4 a.m.?" Sounds like he wants to crash it. "Oh, God, no, we'll meet curfew," says Farnham.
Celeste says he and wife Jacqueline chose to live in Stewart House so they could invite large groups, though they can't fit the entire sophomore class. "We'll have to come up with some zoftig idea," says Celeste. "A massive game of charades?" Maiurro says a downtown restaurant brews great root beer in kegs, and a party idea is hatched. Marlaine Gray comes in to ask for money; she edits the Cipher, which only has enough cash to print four issues instead of the usual six. He makes no promises except to get back to her within a week or so.
Senior Adam Drushal is from Ohio; they compare notes on mutual acquaintances in Ohio politics and higher ed. They discuss Drushal's decision to return to CC to finish his film major. Drushal says some CC professors could be more involved in student life; Celeste replies that they're exhausted by the demands of the block system, then floats the idea of professors as coaches.
The last students for the day express concern about an area of campus that's unlighted late at night (Celeste promises to look into it), and students' difficulties in getting on Colorado Springs voter rolls (he suggests she contact Ken Salazar '77, Colorado's attorney general). As the would-be voter leaves, she says, "It's good to see you on campus, meeting students." Little does she know, she's been added to the Celeste databank. They'll meet again.
