Tributes to Rosemary
I'm Eve Wasmer Scott and I'm the administrator for the Departments of Philosophy and Religious Studies. I've known Rosemary for almost ten years now, first as a co-worker and for the last three years as her nominal supervisor.I say nominal because in fact she knew her job as Graduate Services administrator much better than I did.
All of us staff members, as her co-workers, knew very well that Rosemary worked because she LOVED it -- not because she HAD to, but because she truly enjoyed working with the students, truly valued working in education, and-- I like to think -- enjoyed the camaraderie and the mutual respect that exists among the members of our departments.
When I took on the job as department administrator, my predecessor provided me with a great deal of excellent and thorough training and advice. One of the final pieces of very good advice she gave me was to recognize what a valuable resource Rosemary would be to me.
She was right. I found Rosemary to be a truly wise and humanitarian colleague whose advice could always be trusted. I often went to her as a sounding board on issues that I found particularly problematic, relying always on her good sense and discretion to help sort things out or just to listen.
I knew Rosemary had taught high school students in a previous career, and I sometimes wondered whether that had helped to mold that unflappably calm personality, to develop her very evident self assurance and secure sense of self.
Rosemary had a very practical, no-nonsense approach to life combined with a unique ability to really DELIGHT in the simple pleasures of life. Along with that, a smile that lit up her whole face and the most extensive collection of Christmas sweatshirts any of us on the staff had ever seen!
Quick-minded, quick-witted, resourceful, generous of heart, a mentor. That's how we see Rosemary. Smart, funny, strong, independent, determined, a world traveller, and a great friend. She cared about her students and their lives, was ever interested in news of their weddings or babies, or there to help them through a trial.
A proud mom whose family came first. She loved to talk about them and their accomplishments, and we all remember Rosemary sending care packages to Eric in Wisconsin, helping Kirsten with the purchase of home appliances, and describing Richard's flying and sailboat racing adventures.
We will all miss her greatly.
My co-workers and I, and members of the two departments, had a great deal to say about Rosemary, and I was overwhelmed by the number of tributes and messages I've received, but as I can't read them all here, I've incorporated many of these comments into these remarks.
In closing, I'd like to read a paragraph from a tribute submitted by one of our graduate students {Kitty Maguire of Religious Studies}:
In my religious tradition, when someone "goes to sleep in the Lord," as death is called, we chant a haunting prayer that repeats the phrase "Memory eternal." The prayer is a promise that the person will not be forgotten by generations on earth. I think the best tribute to Rosemary and, I hope, comfort to her family, is that we remember her, as she was here on earth: lively, happy, energetic and ever-gracious. And I am sure that she will have Heaven well-organized and running efficiently before Autumn quarter begins!
Hi, I am James Robson a graduate student in the Religious Studies Dept. at Stanford. In many ways we graduate students played a relatively brief part in the big picture of Rosemary's life, while she played such a big role in all our lives. Indeed, it was often alone in her office that we passed meaningful milestones in our graduate careers as we filed forms for this or that requirement. In one sense we were part of her day to day work, and based on the mountain of paperwork on her desk hard work is certainly what we all were. Some of us may have even popped up now and again in stories around the dinner table as she related with disbelief, and hopefully a laugh, the kinds of administrative tangles we had gotten ourselves into which only she could free us from. In my own case, she was the kind of person I could call in the middle of the night from Japan to find out the status of a late stipend check and who didn't get angry after spending days tracking it down only to find out that while she had (of course) mailed it, I had left her with envelopes with the wrong postage on them. As the Graduate Student Administrator she was the intermediary between the faculty --who wanted the students to fulfill requirements in timely way-- and the graduate students-- who tried everything in their means to delay, put off, or side step some of those requirements. Yet, she somehow always finessed these anxiety ridden situations elegantly and with just the right mixture of calm, commonsense and understanding. Rosemary spoiled us into thinking that administration and bureaucracy could be something that is efficient, humane, and not devoid of humor. Rosemary always opened the door with a smile, made time to talk, and dealt with all of our personal sagas behind the scenes with genuine concern and good advice. And when one of us had good news about jobs, scholarships or personal news like a marriage or the birth of a child, she spread the news far and wide. Through these types of messages Rosemary helped to knit together a wide-spread community made up of those who came, stayed for a few years and then went on to other places. As students, while certain professors may have an affect on our minds and intellects, there are precious few who also have a deep impact on our hearts. As a day to day living example of kindness, good humor, and compassion, Rosemary made a lasting impression on the hearts and minds of all the graduate students whose lives she became a part of.
I teach in the Philosophy Department at Stanford. During this past decade, while Rosemary served as the graduate studies administrator for our department and for the department of Religious Studies, I served a term as Chair of the Philosophy Department, and several terms as Director of Graduate Studies. So there have been many occasions on which I had the privilege and the pleasure to work closely with Rosemary on shared projects.Rosemary's job was a very demanding one, in ways both technical and personal. She administered a complex budget for the graduate programs. She played a major role in helping the graduate students and faculty in both departments navigate the complexities of a large university. She provided enormously valuable support for the "inputs" and "outputs" of our graduate programs, that is: graduate admissions and graduate placement.
In all these contexts, and many others as well, Rosemary worked with quiet efficiency, grace, and great competence. She was completely in control of the technical side of things, and was always a source of sage advice for both students and faculty. She cared deeply about the graduate programs and about the people involved.
As I think about the years we worked together my most vivid image is of Rosemary sitting at her desk, with various student files spread out on her desk, her computer displaying a complex budget spreadsheet, the cabinets next to her stacked full with the files of applicants who had made the short list for Ph.D. admission next year -- some of whom Rosemary had been personally in contact with in order to ensure that a certain letter, or a certain writing sample, arrive in time; next year's course schedules, which she had been instrumental in preparing, pinned to her bulletin board; the phone ringing -- perhaps from a graduate student who needed help figuring out a complex university regulation, or perhaps help in making sure his placement file was complete; another student waiting by the door for the chance to consult with Rosemary -- and Rosemary -- completely unfazed and completely in control -- handing to me 5 pages of detailed information she had just prepared on who had made it to what stage of the Ph.D. program and when, information we needed for our yearly report to the Mellon Foundation. And the question I frequently found myself asking her, in the middle of all this, concerning, perhaps, a problem a student had run into, or a technical issue about the Mellon Foundation grant, was: "What do we do now, Rosemary?"
Rosemary was a wonderful colleague. We will miss her greatly.