Sandy Smith

Now that he’s no longer photo-opping and glad-handing nonstop as mayor of Philadelphia, Ed Rendell (C’65), the latest addition to Penn’s faculty, ought to be able to show up for class on time. Fat chance.

If it’s Thursday, this must be (a) the Penn Reading Project, (b) a meeting with my advisor, (c) a field trip to the Reading Terminal Market, (d) time for a little bonding with my fellow freshmen.

Blame it on Mom. On second thought, give Mom the credit. It may be reductionist to put it this way, but if it were not for his mother, Michael Awkward (Gr’86, Hon’97) might not have become a feminist literary scholar.

Kelly Kozik is a gregarious bundle of energy — “I can talk forever,” she said. And she did, about her latest effort to help others, the Adult Student Network [ASN], a virtual support group for working people enrolled in Penn’s part-time and evening degree programs. The ASN had its first formal organizational meeting Jan. 18.

Robert Barchi, M.D., Ph.D., hadn’t expected to hit the ground running when he became provost of the University one year ago this month. But that’s what happened when the issue of alcohol abuse on campus was thrust into his lap in the wake of the death of a Penn alumnus at a fraternity party.

If Teresa Maddox and Shamara Davis become novelists or literary critics someday, they’ll have Stephanie Perkins-Lane to thank. Okay, that may be stretching it a bit. But in her role as a Penn VIPS mentor, Perkins-Lane is exposing the two Sulzberger Middle School students to both the worlds of work and academic life while providing them with emotional support and encouragement.

You could probably call Andrew March (C’00) a citizen of the world. He’s lived on both sides of the Atlantic. He had studied five languages by the time he applied to Penn. His wife, Munhtuya Altangerel (C’99), is from Mongolia. And he’s spent much of his undergraduate career traveling to global hot spots — Northern Ireland, Palestine, Bosnia, Kosovo.

Twenty members of the Penn and University City communities are getting an up-close-and-personal look this semester at how the University works to keep its students, faculty, staff and neighbors safe and secure.

If you’re going to do business on Internet time, you’d better be first with your hot new idea. Then you’d better be prepared to hold your breath until you turn blue waiting for everyone else to find out how brilliant it is. But once that happens, you’re golden, and it will be hard for others to knock you off your perch.

It’s a Thursday afternoon on the first full week of 2000, and the level of activity on campus, like the temperature, is low. Half the food trucks are taking an extended vacation, and there are no lines at those that remain. And there are few people on the walkways. Where is everybody? Many of those who are still around, it seems, are in the library.