Finding the Words 

Reviewed by Bill Pruden
Director, Upper School/College Counselor
Ravenscroft School (NC)

Learning, Growing and Living

James O. Freedman’s memoir Finding the Words is not strictly speaking about college admission. And yet this compelling work by the late president of both the University of Iowa and Dartmouth College is, in fact, about everything people in the admission profession should be about as they go about the process of opening up the world of higher education to young people everywhere. Indeed, while the book traces in powerful and affecting language Freedman’s personal journey—from isolated, self-doubting, New Hampshire Jew to accomplished Yale Law School graduate—it also paints a broader equally affecting picture of the timeless power of education in such a transformation. Indeed, while the story ends with the start of his judicial clerkship with legal icon Thurgood Marshall, anyone familiar with Freedman’s later career can discern in these early years the traits that would later allow him to emerge as a national leader in higher education.

Beyond its heartfelt lessons, the book offers a joyful reading experience. Whether paying homage to the memorable teachers whose influence proved to be life long or recalling with obvious delight the books and authors that opened up new worlds for the shy boy with the big ears, on page after page, Freedman, as the title suggests, finds the words that illustrate, in the most human terms, the power and importance of education for both a society and its citizens. In doing so, he turns the spotlight on the academic focus and the personal learning process that should be at the heart of the college experience and thus in the forefront of the admission process, but which seem increasingly to be pushed to the back burner in the midst of sometimes frivolous debates over crafting classes, or the role of athletics, or the strategic value for applicant and institution of early decision.

As he was in life, Freedman, in this posthumously published memoir, remains a passionate advocate of the power of ideas and the importance of a liberal arts education in a society that can only thrive and survive if its discourse is civilized and informed. He recognizes clearly that he is sharing a personal journey, and his introspective, ongoing ruminations on the source of his own ambition—was it, he wonders, the nexus between the helicopter mother ahead of her time, one whose unquenchable ambition for her son was never clearer than when she greeted the news that he had been named President of Dartmouth by quickly asserting that next time it would be Harvard and the gentle and learned, if uninspired father, seemingly satisfied with his lot as a respected, if under appreciated high school teacher—can’t help but strike a chord in any educator.

In the end, what becomes clear is that while never denying his own ambition, his often-stated pursuit of his destiny, Freedman’s story is not about the measurable aspects of ambition—the plaudits or positions. Rather, it is about a process of learning, of loving to learn, of growing, of coming to an understanding of self that can only be achieved by undertaking the journey that he experienced, one grounded in the pursuit of knowledge and an openness to the broader world. And in that, it is a story that offers lesson for all of us, but especially for those who work with young people for whom so much of the journey lies ahead.