Peter Georgescu

It was mid-August 1954.  My father and I had been invited to have dinner at Exeter by the legendary principal, William Gurdon Saltonstall.  I remember that dinner with amazing clarity.  I should.  That dinner marked a remarkable turnaround in my life.  I recall I was excited and in awe of the campus I saw on the way to dinner.  The three of us chatted for a while with “Salty,” gently asking a few probing questions.  At the end of dinner, this imposing person said simply, “I like you Peter.  If you can pass your classes on your own, with no consideration for your background, you get to stay here.  If not, I’ll find the right school for you.  Is that okay?”  Not really grasping the full meaning of the statement, I said, “That’s okay.”  As he escorted us out, the Principal tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Well, what grade would you like to be in?”  If there was a right answer to that question at that time, it did not come to me.  “I’d like to be in the same class with boys my own age,” I blurted out.  He smiled broadly, patted me on the back and said, “What difference does it make?  Welcome to Exeter.  You’ll be a Lower.”

And so, it was, my first encounter with Exeter.  I was fifteen years old and in April of that same year, I landed in New York to be reunited with my parents after an eight-year separation.  I didn’t speak a word of English and I hadn’t been in school for the previous four years.  Instead, I had been in a forced labor camp.  I had been cleaning sewers and digging holes for electrical poles six days a week for ten hours a day.  It was one of those “WWII and aftermath” sagas.  The Iron Curtain separated the Communist regimes from the West.  Luckily, with intervention from Congressman Frances Bolton and President Eisenhower, we (my brother Costa and I) got to arrive in New York on April 13th, 1954.  (If you’re intrigued by the story, check out my website www.petergeorgescu.com.)  Days after I landed in New York, Saltonstall called my dad and said, “I’ll keep a place for your younger boy in our school.”  My dad told him how grateful he was but that his son didn’t speak English and that I hadn’t been in school for several years.  A reassuring answer came back.  “I read the story in the press Sir.  Your son learned a lot of other things about life.  You help him learn English and let’s have dinner at Exeter in August.”  That’s how I got to visit Exeter four months later.

Exeter did change my life in every way.  As I look back, Exeter exposed me to the joy of learning.  From spending days doing physical labor to being able to use my mind ten+ hours a day was pure joy.  Dealing with Chaucer that first year and learning how to divide in my Algebra course made for a challenging but uplifting experience.  The support I felt from the faculty was reassuring.  They responded to my obvious enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge.  I passed the year with a solid “D.”  By the end of that year, I felt I belonged.  I even got into Andover sports. I played soccer and got my “E” sweater (even though I never played soccer before, unlike any boy coming out of Romania…but that’s another story.)

What made Exeter special for me?  It clearly revolved around the Harkness Table.  I learned to speak out.  I was strongly motivated to prepare so I could contribute in class.  My classmates soon began to treat me like any other boy, rather than the oddity who badly mispronounced words.  (Why in the world would you not pronounce both “b’s” in bombers?)  Was I teased?  Absolutely, but it was all in good fun.

The Harkness Table experience was the driver of my growing confidence and building of self-esteem.  It taught me to defend my perspectives, allowed me to take risks and to always be prepared with ever increasing rigor.  New ideas and different perspectives were encouraged if the explanations were sound.  To be fair, I did have an advantage over my classmates.  The routine of hard work at Exeter was a snap.  The homework preparation was pleasurable.  The clan, with the supporting cast of classmates and teachers were a far cry from the brainwashing sessions I had endured from the Romanian Secret Police.

At Exeter I learned how to compete fairly--on the playing field, in the classroom and in dealing with roommates and down-the-hall neighbors.  I learned that values matter.  I learned that shortcuts don’t work.  I learned what I later recognized as an Exeter culture that permeated most every experience that took place.  I embraced that culture.  I learned that I wasn’t the brightest kid in my class nor the best athlete.  But I also learned to push myself to be the best I could be, every chance I got.  And being my best, was good enough.  However, I also learned how great it was to be surrounded by folks smarter than me.  That proved to be a big advantage throughout my business career.

By the end of the third year at Exeter, I was in the top half of my class.  I scored well enough on my SATs to get into Princeton and graduated cum laude.  From there, as a good immigrant boy, I wanted to go out West.  I got a MBA from the Stanford Business School.  After my Stanford years, I entered Young & Rubicam, a multidisciplinary communication company in advertising, PR, promotion, design and digital.  I started as a trainee in the research department.  Thirty years later I became the company’s first non-American born Chairman and CEO.

After retiring from Y&R, Exeter’s motto drove me to give back.  I’ve done that in various educational not-for-profits, as a Trustee of Polytechnic University, Vice Chairman of New York Presbyterian Hospital and more.  My third book, Capitalists ARISE! challenges business people to change their behavior and begin to heal the grave inequality which permeates our nation.

In every chapter of my life the shadow of Exeter follows me.  The joy of learning is now an everyday guest.  I seek out the more talented and better minds for inspiration and guidance.  I am comfortable speaking out.  Yes, I lecture and my favorite part is the Q&A period.  There, I’m back to the Harkness Table which, in writing this, feels like yesterday.

It’s easy for me to say what Exeter did for me.  You see, this immigrant boy got to live the American Dream--being the best Peter Georgescu I can be.  It all started at a dinner in Exeter that August afternoon in 1954.  Now, as a new Trustee it’s so very appropriate to say thank-you Principal Saltonstall.