In Beethoven’s penultimate piano sonata, Op. 110 in A-flat major, we expect the fury of a man abandoned by his beloveds and patrons; the torment from within a musician unable to hear. Instead, opening the piece are four pure triads in A-flat, played con amabilità: pleasantly. They evoke an image of the composer in thoughtful reflection, realizing that choler cannot alter his past, but reconciliation with his demons can protect the great, though uncertain, possibilities that the future holds. Then, like a battle cry projecting in the silence upon the cliffs of Dover, an extended trill crescendos in a phrase otherwise marked piano, or soft; this trill announces a chain of filigree passages, depicting the man as he wanders about in his relentless search for the promise of his future.

When I first heard this sonata, I was shocked that amid the frustrations and tensions that dominated his late era, Beethoven produced music that is almost impressionistic in its serenity. But to me now, this piece, a function of the conditions from which it arose, embodies the beauty of the human spirit: the faculty to transcend the present and push the frontiers of Possible.

Transcendence may involve overcoming personal barriers, as Beethoven and Helen Keller did, but more fundamentally, to transcend is to exit, and subsequently expand, the realm of comfort and security to the uncomfortable and insecure in pursuit of some Good. In this way, the beauty of the human spirit manifests itself not only in Helen Keller’s social and political activism, but also atop the Lesotho mountains, where some of the world’s best-trained physicians exchange suburban America for disease- and poverty-devastated villages accessible only by horseback and helicopter. The beauty of the human spirit manifests itself not only in Opus 110, but also in the executive suite at Morgan Stanley.

In the executive suite at Morgan Stanley.

The week of September 15, at the peak of the financial meltdown, Lehman Brothers’ bankruptcy precipitated a run on the bank at Morgan Stanley that tanked its stock price and depleted its cash reserves. Fighting until the very end to protect the jobs of his 45,000 employees, Chairman/CEO John Mack risked losing his personal wealth (locked in Morgan stocks and options), shareholder wealth, and, indeed, the firm. He audaciously (think lawsuits) ignored government pressure to sell the firm, which would have resulted in mass layoffs; at one point, he dared tell a pushy Tim Geithner (then-New York Federal Reserve Chairman) to “get fucked.” Then, having saved his firm at the eleventh hour, Mack became one of the most influential and most vocal Wall Streeters to advocate reevaluation of the compensation practices that facilitated the disaster; no hypocrite, he himself has refused an year-end bonus three of the past four years while his subordinates made many times what he did. Thus, Mack transcended: He defied existing wisdom, placing himself and more in jeopardy to protect the people who worked for him and subsequently arguing for dramatic change, which is why I say with no little pride that he is John Mack T’68.

Likewise, my favorite part about Duke is that it helps Dukies transcend by exploration. I can practice the third Rachmaninoff concerto and then hear Murray Perahia live, his Beethoven sonata at one point inducing a collective sigh from the audience. I can pore over a problem set on financial markets with my classmates and then discuss how to expand research on social marketing in underdeveloped contexts with a faculty member who works there. I can study voluntarism in my Writing 20 seminar and then create a writing workshop for low-income middle schoolers, aided by a $500 grant from Thompson Writing Program that was used to produce an anthology of their writing. Finally, I can participate in President Brodhead’s dinner-discussion on 19^th-century American authors and then check out Hawthorne’s short stories from Perkins Library.

In this environment of seemingly unlimited opportunity, the B.N. catalyzes exploration and then facilitates work through extending financial flexibility and abundant, diverse developmental support. To me, this flexibility and support implies a special imperative to work and make contributions, whether they involve finding the Original Idea, applying existing knowledge to create impact, or anything in between. That imperative may seem stressful, but not here: Work is so much fun.

Other activities/honors:

Made solo debut with Charlotte Symphony Orchestra; Performed in masterclass for Leon Fleisher; Valedictorian; Advanced Placement State Scholar; Founder, Providence Peer Mentors