News and Events

Inauguration Address September 23, 2000

"Promises to Keep: Reaching Deep and Reaching Far"

by President Andrew Benton

Chairman Trimble, Board of Regents, platform party, distinguished guests, colleagues in higher education here and elsewhere, students, friends and, never, ever last, my family, I thank you for your presence today. Until December seventh of last year, the date on which I was struck by lightning and selected to serve as the seventh president, I had made a very pleasant career out of associating with and supporting strong leaders—a secondary position, if you will—and three of those mentors join me on the stage today.

I particularly want to acknowledge Pepperdine’s fourth president, William S. Banowsky, and the sixth president, David Davenport. To know them is a privilege, to learn from them has been an honor, and to find myself a successor to their legacy is both bracing and daunting.

Had I known what was in store, I could not have found a better friend and guide than David Davenport. His uncompromising commitment to students, to matters of principle and integrity, will inspire me as I rise each morning.

Reflections on the Pathway
Institutions live and grow by chapters, and this day commences Pepperdine's seventh chapter. The six preceding chapters were remarkable bodies of work: President Batsell Baxter, enabling Mr. Pepperdine's dreams to become reality and laying the foundation that stands strong after sixty-three years; President Hugh Tiner, building the community from infancy to maturity over his eighteen years in office; President M. Norvel Young, leading a period of rededication and faithfulness, setting our direction on a dependable pathway; President William S. Banowsky, creating a period of bold enthusiasm and attainment, shaping the dreams we live today; President Howard A. White, guiding the wave of excellence with confidence in God, and with pride in us that made us proud of ourselves; President David Davenport, under whose enabling and ennobling leadership we came of age, with ageless convictions intact.

The imagery of light has been consistently used through the years. It is a powerful symbol and resonated in my own mind as I thought about one particular pinpoint of light. I love music and poetry. Thirty years ago I committed to memory the verses of Robert Frost’s poem, “Choose Something Like a Star,” and those verses have never failed me. Frost, as you may know, concluded that poem with these lines:

And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.

The poem has reminded me to focus on principle rather than popular opinion. And I believe that Pepperdine has chosen as its own navigational aid the brilliant, the unfailing, the timeless—something like a star.

Even though light is a very appropriate symbol for this institution, I would like to borrow different imagery from Robert Frost today. Allow another of his well-known poems, “Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening,” to whisk you away from sunny Malibu for a moment, to some quiet, rural, wintry evening:

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

The poet’s last verse reads:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

We can almost feel the nip of the air, almost smell the wet trees, almost touch the falling snowflakes. And just when we have settled into the peaceful scene, we are called back to reality. Yes, “the woods are lovely, dark and deep, but we have promises to keep.”

Promises to Keep
And so it is. Day has slipped into evening. We are older as an institution. Not as old and venerable as some here today, but as I listen to our campus conversation, I have the sense we don't have time to ponder our past progress, for we have miles to go.

If you listen carefully to the heartbeat of this University, you will hear the rhythms, the cycles of our story. And a quiet voice from within reminds us—reminds me—that we must meet the obligations of our trust: we have promises to keep.

I am convinced that there is a glorious morning ahead, and that it awaits us on the other side of a good deal, perhaps even a great deal, of hard work.

Another Frost poem, titled “Neither Out Far Nor In Deep,” pictures people standing along a beach, looking toward the sea. It concludes with these words:

They cannot look out far.
They cannot look in deep.
But when was that ever a bar
To any watch they keep?

Though we may not understand everything that lies before us, we must nevertheless keep our watch, remaining vigilant. And, for us, it is imperative that we also reach deep into our motives and principles, and that we reach far into the future for a vision that will propel us forward.

The Journey -- Reaching Deep
Reaching deep involves revisiting and renewing our mission and recommitting ourselves to it. It means nourishing our philosophic and spiritual roots.

As I thought about what makes Pepperdine unique, I was reminded of an afternoon in 1995, when a man named Robert Donovan requested a meeting with me. I was intrigued by his story, how he and his wife had designed the stained glass for our Stauffer Chapel. He said he and Bette had designed and built stained glass art across the nation and abroad. And now, in the twilight years of their career together, especially with Bette’s cancer, they wanted to make sure they left their signature alongside their work, before it was too late. They had left their mark at Pepperdine, but not their name.

Robert told of the thirteen-month project, how Bette stood on the roof of their studio and directed the huge task with their twenty-eight workmen, overseeing every detail. All the pieces, with their myriad shapes and colors, fitted together as one remarkable mosaic. Each piece interesting and unique, to be sure, but when fit together into a whole, something new and wonderful and lasting.

In the same way, this University is a mosaic that is astonishingly beautiful when the pieces are joined together. But surely other universities can say something of the same. They also have wonderful constituents forming an intricate mosaic. Perhaps the question for us, then, is, "What do the many and varied pieces form when they are crafted together here?" I can tell you what I think: And it is very much like what the Donovans created more than a quarter century ago. The wall of glass in our chapel, seen as a whole, pictures a stylized tree of life with swirling shapes and colors, each a brilliant contribution to the whole. In the center of that revolving kaleidoscope is the Word of God. And that may come closest to symbolizing the mosaic we form and what we place at the center of our life together.

It is an extraordinary privilege to work in a place like this. But that privilege must exact from us a sense of responsibility. Indeed, as our motto eloquently states, "Freely ye received, freely give." I hope that we, as individuals and as an institution, will always be both recipients and givers. May we freely receive God’s "river" of blessings and let it flow freely through us. For, as it is written in Ezekiel, "Where the river flows everything will live."

We may be called by many names. It is not what we are called that is important, but rather what we are called to be. Albert Schweitzer said, "I do not know what your destiny will be, but this I do know—the only ones among you who will be truly happy are those who will have sought for and found a way to serve." Or, as Winston Churchill said even more simply, "We make a living by what we get; we make a life by what we give."

The Journey – Reaching Far
But we must do more than merely reach deep; we must also reach far. The world is changing and so are the levers by which important things are accomplished. Some resist change, but that is simply an act of futility.

The environment of our work in higher education is going to be different in the future. For example, I love books, and while I know that labels me something of a Luddite or even troglodyte in this Information Age, so be it. I have a very hard time getting excited about curling up in front of a fireplace with a good laptop. Some have suggested that in the future each student may bring a virtual book to college: a book with electronic paper that displays downloaded information needed for the course. For the most part, I like the idea of the student as tabula rasa, or blank slate, for purposes of learning. But to think of each student filling his or her own virtual book only with what is needed for the course is hard for an unrepentant lover of library stacks to accept.

Whatever the challenge, there will be no universal response: the answer will be different at each of our educational service points. But, I ask you, can we ever replace the mentor, the wise counselor, the teacher? I don't think so. Technology will enhance the teacher's role, allowing the professor to become more of a guide and co-explorer of this strange, brave, and digitized new world. Imagine reading Victor Hugo and, in the realm of cyberspace, walking the streets of Paris, sensing the portent of revolution. Oh, to walk with a gifted professor and for learning to come alive like that.

At Pepperdine, we will embrace distance learning appropriately, but we will specialize in proximate learning, one student, one education, one life at a time.

Strengthening Our Resources
A change in leadership is always attended by questions about vision and direction. I would like to briefly outline, in very broad terms, five of the challenges I see today.

Before we meet other challenges, we must first prepare the University by strengthening our resources. We should have—and I sometimes have a hard time even saying this word—a billion-dollar endowment. Said another way: we should more than double our endowment before our seventieth anniversary in 2007. As we reach far and take the attendant risks, we will need the strength that such an endowment can provide. Just two evenings ago, we announced completion of a $300 million campaign with more than $350 million raised; but we are not finished. The price we pay for educating future generations is merely an appropriate return on what was invested in each one of us.

We probably have no greater challenge than to address the matter of building a truly excellent library and framing an appropriate response to the opportunity of technology. CEO of Cisco Systems John T. Chambers offered a thought-provoking quote in the New York Times recently: "The next big killer application for the Internet is going to be education. Education over the Internet is going to be so big it is going to make e-mail usage look like a rounding error." We must find our own way in this Information Age with both books and databases—with both traditional means and new technology. Perhaps some will choose one over the other, I think we must pursue both.

For many years, our location in Malibu was our endowment. Now, we must be good stewards of these resources and the environment, not only in Malibu, but also at our locations in the greater Los Angeles area and abroad. We have so much construction going on that we should exchange mortarboards for hardhats even today. I will not apologize for the activity we have on campus, since that activity is the mark of progress. At our education centers and overseas study locations, I want our facilities to be first-rate. Here in Malibu, in addition to all that is presently in progress for our teaching and learning programs, I hope we can address library space, parking, indoor recreation, and athletic facilities in the near future. Much will happen in the next two years; much more needs to happen in the next five.

Strengthening Our Diversity
Second, while we have made progress in recent years, we must maintain true diligence in strengthening our diversity. Much remains to be done. Clearly we must reflect the greater community of which we are a part to be relevant in the future. We do not want to be a lonely outpost in Malibu, uninvolved in and unmoved by the great metropolis across the bay. As much as possible, we must reflect what is good and exciting about Los Angeles, including its diversity.

This means finding more qualified women and minorities to teach and serve and lead at Pepperdine. The challenge of diversity is much more important than merely framing a response to cultural pressures. God, after all, is the author of diversity and has created a world replete with lavish variations.

We must also provide more diverse educational experiences for our students. United States Senator Zell Miller, of Georgia, recently reported that fewer than 10 percent of American undergraduates study abroad and that international students comprise only about 3 percent of college enrollments. At Seaver College alone, more than half of our students study abroad at some point. We have an international student enrollment that places us in the top 20 among research and doctoral universities in the nation. We greatly exceed the national average, but we want to do even better. I challenge each dean within the University to demonstrate leadership in providing a broad cultural and international experience for each student. To become insular is to risk becoming irrelevant.

Strengthening the Connection to Our Heritage
Third, we must give attention to the other side of diversity, strengthening the connections to our heritage, reaching deep, if you will. Becoming more diverse does not mean that we must cut our church ties and lay an ax to our roots. Our roots determine who we are—they define us as an institution. Just as we find a large number of Catholics at Notre Dame or Jews at the University of Judaism, it should not surprise anyone to find a significant number of members of the religious body to which Pepperdine is related—the Churches of Christ—as faculty, staff, and students here. Since the University is not controlled by a church and has no organic link with any external organization, Pepperdine remains connected with its heritage through individual members of the Churches of Christ.

This is an uncommon university filling a unique role, and its character is grounded solidly in the first line of our Affirmation Statement: "We affirm that God is and that God is revealed uniquely in Christ." While we trust that there will always be a “critical mass” (as it has been called) of those from our heritage, we invite people of all faiths, who can share and enrich our notion of values, to contribute to the rich tapestry that is Pepperdine.

Strengthening Our Sense of Community
Fourth, we must be about the business of strengthening our sense of community. We must begin and continue a conversation about what our Mission Statement means for teaching and learning, for faith and purpose. A University Strategic Plan, one that embraces and implements the Mission Statement and the aspirations of our five schools, is an important step toward choosing our own destiny.

In this decade we, as a community, must decide our role in higher education or it will be decided for us. It is important to resist the demand that we choose to be academically excellent or true to our faith. Those who make such a demand reveal a deep-seated bias and prejudice in themselves. But, we must be both academically good and true to our mission—or we will have failed.

We must also resist those forces that would crowd us toward standardization of higher education. America has benefited from the dualism of its fine public and private institutions, and from pluralism in approach to quality and emphasis. I believe Pepperdine has the right and the mandate to be distinctive.

This is a remarkable community. Yes, we are individual scholars and professionals with our own ambitions, but together we become a remarkable whole in which all individuals are lifted to new heights.

Strengthening Our Emphasis on Scholarship and Culture
The last challenge I’ll mention is strengthening our emphasis on scholarship and culture. It sometimes seems ridiculous to place what is nothing less than an ongoing conversation concerning the life of the mind and learning on a scale of 1–50, but it is done, and annually. Frankly, I am less interested in rankings than I am in seeing that each member of the faculty is encouraged to rise among his or her peers in scholarship and to advance thinking within that chosen discipline. To that end, we will identify funds to encourage even more research and scholarship. What I offer is a partnership, shared equally, that places us on a path to academic leadership for each one of our five schools. The issue for us, however, is not teaching or research—it is nationally recognized scholarship in support of excellent teaching.

In addition to training students for successful careers, I believe it is important that we help them become enlightened, civil, and cultured citizens. The arts and humanities should flourish within our undergraduate school. Music, drama, literature, poetry, and art should be celebrated and our students should be in daily contact with these expressions of the human spirit. Even at the graduate or professional level, where there is a high degree of specialization, we should encourage an expansive search for knowledge.

A number of distinguished scholars have observed the weakening of our culture. Most recently, the eminent Jacques Barzun, former professor and provost of Columbia University, released his opus, From Dawn to Decadence: 500 Years of Western Cultural Life. They are right: It is certainly not impossible to wake up one day and realize that we have become a nation of highly trained barbarians. I believe higher education has a duty to preserve those things that are timeless, and that ennoble the human spirit.

I should add, in terms of outreach, that I hope this university, through its programs in teacher education, will make a leveraged contribution to society by training and placing teachers and leaders in positions to make a real difference. That would make me very proud. For most of us, we are here today because of someone, probably a teacher, who saw something precious in us and helped us develop that gift. I thank God for teachers.

Conclusion
These are exciting times. We have never been stronger or more capable as a university. We have the power to reach both deep into the soul and far into the firmament; thus, we have the responsibility to do so.

As I bring this address to a close, I want to acknowledge those whose stalwart friendship and support will make our journey successful. As I do, I remember a story told by Mrs. Blanche Seaver to then-President Banowsky. Mrs. Seaver’s beginnings were not grand or assured. At one point, she worked in her father's store cutting glass for their customers. Later in life she resisted being described as a philanthropist, though few have given more to higher education. Instead, she always thought of herself as "a little glass cutter." If that is true, she truly fit the pieces of her life together with our students to form a thing of transparent beauty.

Present today are friends, alumni, philanthropists, perhaps even a "little glass cutter" or two, who believe deeply in this enterprise. Continue to believe, please, and continue to encourage us as we reach deep and enable us as we reach far.

To our devoted professors: If students are the heart of our enterprise, then faculty are the soul. And, I will protect and serve both the heart and soul of this University with all my might. I also value the muscle and sinew, that is, the professional, capable administrators and staff who guide, assist, and facilitate the learning community. I pray daily for all those who serve our students.

I mentioned earlier my affection for music and poetry. There is, it seems, a verse somewhere to satisfy all emotion and to soothe each fear. I serve with many emotions, but no fear; only the sense that there is much to do, even “miles to go before (we) sleep.” May God bless each and every one of you on that journey.

I thank you.