Thoughts from David Brewster.

I, too, have reached the age when we wax a little nostalgic.  Peter’s web site is the perfect opportunity to do just that about a long lost part of my life.

I came to ACP, unlike most of you, kicking and screaming in resistance.  I wanted strong drink, women without virtue and bacchanalian frivolity.   I was not, however, an eighteen year old with a lot of choices and then there was that unpleasantness somewhere in Asia.  Nor was I the type of student ACP recruited (or even wanted).  I had finished last in my high school class, failed French four times (five if you count summer school) and the last place I wanted to be was in a country with a foreign language.  My father, determined to have me educated no matter how much it pained him and in total opposition to my expressed desire, sent my application in and due to some huge bureaucratic error I was admitted.  The admissions staff was at least savvy enough to put me on probation before I darkened their doorway in 1964.

Then some time that fall I began a metamorphosis.  Continuing my errant ways I mourned the night of Goldwater’s loss to Johnson in a stupor at the American Center for Students and Artists (261 Boulevard Raspail for those who’ve forgotten), pursued women who had the good sense to ignore me but I did go to class and I met Lionel Rothkrug.  For those who don’t recognize the name he taught Western Civilization 101.  As I recall he was the Director of Graduate Studies at the U of Wisconsin, was in Paris for a one year sabbatical and he seduced me into academics (lust wasn’t panning out).  His classes were performances and I hung on his every word as we fought the Crusades together.  At the end of the first semester the last class burst into spontaneous applause.

For the first time in my life I was emancipated and not completely frivolous with the freedom.  Classes were interesting, the discussion was stimulating, and the professors provocative.  I even quit drinking beer with lunch for fear of being drowsy in my afternoon classes.  Most frightening of all, I did the assignments and even passed the examinations.

While my change process never turned me into a butterfly I did change in orientation.  I came to view the academy as a surrogate mother.  She provided warmth and comfort, she nurtured me and helped me grow ...  Whenever my life took a new twist I returned to the academy.  At this point I have attended nine colleges earning six college degrees including one doctorate and I have done all course work for a second doctorate.  My emphasis has been the study of higher education and measurement of human behavior/performance. Had it not been for the then American College in Paris I would not be able to write these paragraphs about my life.  It was pure dumb luck that got me a chance and I am truly thankful."

David