Letter from Chris Sherman '07

January 11, 2011

Duxbury, MA

Dean Wagner-

            I was shocked to receive word this morning of Sheafe Satterthwaite’s dismissal from the College.  I feel compelled to write you on his behalf, although I can’t say I know exactly what to tell you.  You no doubt have a healthy knowledge and respect for the weighty role that educators play in the formative years of our lives, so I’m sure you can relate to the overwhelming sadness I felt upon learning that my favorite teacher was forced into early retirement. All that I can do is to describe to you my relationship with Sheafe and Williams as just one of the thousands of students he must have lectured over the years.

            Fresh out of public high school, when I first met Sheafe early in my tenure at Williams my initial thought was that the private boarding schools where lots of my new friends had come from must be littered with men like him—tweed-wearing curators of vast vocabularies that had been locked in mahogany paneled rooms for most of their lives.  Essentially, I thought he was a cliché; however, it was very soon thereafter he revealed himself to be anything but.  The most distinguishing of Sheafe’s good qualities was a singularly open mind (and open heart) sprung not from any sentimentality or adopted philosophy, but from a dogged and almost naïve drive to observe and interpret his world academically.  It also became clear that there are two schools of thought as to this trait’s desirability.  Some flock to it, some are repulsed by it, but whether traipsing through a field and accosting a farmer somewhere in Vermont or on a conference call with an art collector from Los Angeles, this was the constant essence of what it meant to be in one of his courses—to perceive the world with a wide open and adroitly analytical mind.

            It was sitting with Sheafe and the rest of our Art History 201 class in an old iron foundry in upstate New York that I realized (or rather was told by the proprietor) that this was the essence of my entire Williams education as well.  Sheafe had a brilliant way of conveying lessons subtly through his human subjects.  Over the years I have given a lot of thought to this theory—that above all else Williams taught me to lead a considered life and gave me the knowledge to do so.  Thus, for me and for so many others a Williams without Sheafe is no Williams at all.

            Incredibly, waiting in my inbox this morning a few messages away from the sad news of Sheafe’s dismissal was an email from a friend of my employer asking about my experience at Williams to help inform his daughter’s college search.  I gave him my usual enthusiastic endorsement, but this time the normally unabashed fondness and joy with which I wrote was tinged with guilt—the guilt of a salesman who knows his product is tainted.  Sadly, if Sheafe’s contract is not renewed the knowledge that the College has somehow changed for the worse since my graduation will always taint my love for it.  With no knowledge of the situation surrounding this unhappy turn of events and only my high esteem for the faculty member in question, I strongly urge you to reconsider your decision.

                                                                                    Sincerely,

Christopher G. Sherman ‘07