The Sesquicentennial Grove with Morrill and McGraw looming in the background (Photo by Samuel Kim, Cornell Review)
On the precipice of the slope, past the toothpick and gallows on the Arts Quad, one can find art that is objectively beautiful. Unlike other art on campus, with clashing colors that demand attention (and offend the human mind), this art is different. Unlike other art on campus, with clashing colors that demand attention (and offend the human mind), this art is different. It cries from the hilltops singing the song of wisdom, to be overlooked for the kindling on the arts quad.
Some may ask what art I am referring to. It is the Sesquicentennial Grove, given to the University to celebrate her 150th anniversary. The grove is a collection of stone slabs behind Ezra Cornell’s statue on the slope which some use to sit down, get drunk, and watch the sunset (which I have witnessed first-hand). Some would question why these polished benches are art. It is not the stones, but the words carved into them which provide the beauty of wisdom to campus.
The stones carry the words of our alma mater, motto, and quotes from past university presidents and professors. “Far above Cayuga’s waters … far above the busy humming of the bustling town” the lyrics which are carved into one of the stones have much more depth when able to see the gorgeous blue waters of Cayuga Lake and the bustling city of Ithaca. It also makes you wonder how many Cornelians from Ezra Cornell, Ruth Gader Ginsburg, Bill Nye, and beyond shared that same view. Generations of Cornellians, past, present, and future will glance upon the crystal waters of Cayuga Lake and the town embracing it.
The next part of the grove has Cornell’s motto emblazoned upon it: “I would found an institution where any person can find any study.” It embodies the vision Ezra Cornell had for our institution: a place for engineers and pre-meds, but also Hotelies and government majors. The motto also contains a truth not just about the variety of schools and majors but also about the variety of people who inhabit Cornell’s campus. New arrivals will, understandably, worry about fitting in. However, the sheer number of people with diverse interests means that anyone—from the bowler to the bird watcher—can find a group of people that they are lucky enough to call friends.
Yet the most meaningful part of the grove, to me, is the wisdom from past professors and presidents. From the names we recognize, like President Dean Waldo Malott or Professor Liberty Hyde Bailey, to the ones we do not. The quotes range from proclamations such as “The Cornell tradition … allows a maximum of freedom and relies so confidently upon the sense of personal responsibility for making good use of it” to useful proverbs such as “Education is an inspiration, a taking hold of a broader life.”
These quotes to most people may seem like empty words; the yelling of the elderly at clouds at best. Boisterous at best and pretentious at worst, these quotes serve as destinations and guardrails for in the words of Ezra Cornell: a university “not finished” but “just begun.” The first quote by history professor Carl Becker, refers to the core components of not just Cornell but the idea of the American university. One of the key aspects of learning is the ability to learn from failures, which is why you should try classes from all around the university, even engineering classes. An integral component of this freedom is being able to withstand the B+ from taking Linear Algebra as an English major.
The quote by Professor Liberty Hyde Bailey should cause Cornelians to pause and reflect whether their classes serve not as an ends in themselves, but as a spark to continue and pursue more knowledge, take more classes, and read more literature. If not, then Cornellians should find courses that do.
As you walk around the campus, take time to read the words left by those who used to roam these storied halls, whose names are etched in stone on the buildings we visit each day. Each time you see the kindling on the Arts Quad, remember what true art and beauty lies behind, overlooking the bustling town and the waves of blue.
Next time you are on the slope staring at the sunset, remember to read the words of wisdom that you sit on. When you enter the Sesquicentennial Grove, remember those words inscribed on the Eddy Street Gate, “So enter that daily thou mayest become more learned and thoughtful. So depart that thou mayest become more useful to thy country and mankind.”
This article was originally published in the Cornell Review’s semesterly print edition.
