I remember first hearing about the trustees during my third-form year, back when I was young and impressionable. None of my peers seemed to know exactly what they did, but it was no secret that when they got together and became the single entity known as the Board of Trustees, they collectively held more power than—and this took me a long time to fully grasp—Mr. Ford. Even as a naïve third former, I knew enough to realize that any individual who could look eye-to-eye with Mr. Ford on student issues like sit-down lunch and dress code was way out of my league. I began to see the influence of the trustees almost everywhere, yet they remained in my mind an untouchable group of extraordinary men and women with more power than I could ever imagine.

Two years later, I found myself as a rising sixth form Student Council representative at dinner with the same people I thought resided in a place similar to the Mt. Olympus of Greek mythology. As the trustees made their way to the Sally Hart Lodge, I wasn’t completely sure how I, a mere infant in the professional and political world, would meet and greet such prominent and successful alumni and parents of alumni. To my great surprise, however, I learned that they were more than eager to approach us first.

They introduced themselves by their first and last names, leaving out their well-deserved titles and honors like M.D., Ph.D., and CEO. They shared amusing stories about the teachers they had who are still here. They reminisced about the school’s timeless traditions and gave us some great ideas for our senior prank. In short, they filled us in on life after Choate and painted a picture of what we have yet to look forward to from this school.

After our initial meet-and-greet session, where the conversations ranged from Tibet to Mr. Yankus’ pre-Ford tenure as Dean of Students, we were encouraged to make our way to the assigned tables for dinner. To my immediate right at the table was Thomas M. Viertel ’59, the stage producer of The Producers and a pivotal presence on Broadway. Despite his impressive credentials, he seemed far more interested in hearing about my trivial debut in Choate’s theater program this spring than talking about rubbing shoulders with the biggest stars in modern musical theater.

There was no tone of superiority or boredom when we discussed our favorite experiences at Choate, though I would have welcomed any manner of conversation with a man of his standing. Well into our discussion about the many oppotunities Choate offers, his phone rang. He didn’t miss a beat—he simply ignored the call and turned off the phone. He continued, telling me about how theater was never his most obvious career path, but that the fond memories of performances here kindled a strong passion that remained through college and beyond. It was fascinating to hear about his experiences because they confirmed one of my many suspicions about Choate—you don’t have to be the best at what you do or even know what you like to do best to find success later on in life.

Being a naturally clumsy person, I dropped my butter knife on the floor as Mr. Viertel wrapped up our pleasant conversation. When I reached for the knife, another hand got to it just as mine did. It belonged to Susan R. Cullman ’67, a proud graduate of the original Rosemary Hall before it merged with Choate in 1974. I apologized to her for the disruption as I silently cursed my uncanny ability to make a fool of myself. She smiled at me forgivingly and inquired in her soft-spoken manner about my role as a student leader.

Before I knew it, I was caught up in a rant about my vision to restore and implement great traditions to get students fired up to be a part of the Choate legacy. She listened intently until I realized I was talking too much, at which point I asked what some of her favorite traditions from Rosemary Hall were. She looked nostalgic as she began reflecting on what made the school worthwhile for her. She had much to say about the importance of education and the formation of close relations, and it was incredible to see how many details she remembered about her personal experiences.

I left dinner in good humor and with a whole new perspective on the trustees that made me ashamed of my own ignorance. They were no longer how I envisioned them as my third-form year, as the rich, old alumni who took care of all the school’s finances. They were as colorful as they were experienced, and they didn’t seem to mind putting aside formality and business for a nice, heartfelt chat with students and teachers alike. They represent everything that life after Choate has to offer, and they can help put things in perspective with their rich personal stories and practical advice.

If you ever get the opportunity to meet a few or all of the trustees during your time here, I would urge you to take it and make the most of it. Trust me when I say that the Board of Trustees will do anything but make you bored of trustees.