Lately, I’ve wondered why I’m so upset about the drop to Division III at my alma mater, Saint Francis University.

For many alumni, their reaction grew out of a long-term investment in the athletics program as athletes, spectators, or believers in the prestige of a Division I program atop a mountain in west central PA.

In contrast, my understanding evolved over several decades.

I attended Saint Francis from 1986 to 1990. I was not an athlete, so attending a Division I institution was not a deciding factor for me.

I chose Saint Francis for its academic offerings, size, ethos, faculty, and distance from my home and because of the feeling I got when I visited the campus.

I had friends who were athletes and loved it. I understood it was their passion, just as mine was theatre.

At the time, I simply saw many people pursuing what they loved, whether it was athletics, Greek life, theatre, campus ministry or student government.

In 1991, the men’s basketball team went to the NCAA tournament, and even though I was away from campus, the excitement rippled through the alumni base and beyond.

I recall my boss’ excitement over my small college making it to the Big Dance.

Working in the D.C. area for many years, when I’d mention Saint Francis, I noticed many people knew about Maurice Stokes or Norm Van Lier or its Division I status.

In 2005, I returned to Loretto to become the director of alumni relations.

My position interfaced with athletics in many ways, with me serving on internal committees or organizing pre-game receptions around away games. Thus, I began to understand our Division I program and why it was so important to our small private school.

My understanding was aided by then-athletic director Bob Krimmel. He made the case for Saint Francis’ Division I program, starting with his job interview.

Discussions of dropping to a lower division came up during his tenure, and he instead argued for improvement and expansion of facilities, making the link between those changes and recruiting outcomes. Bob frequently shared his vision and the success of our program with alumni.

However, my time as alumni director expanded my understanding the most. My job was to know what our alumni loved most about their alma mater and to keep their connection to the university strong.

Since many alumni had been athletes, there were thousands who, decades later, still wore their Division I participation as a badge of pride.

Many non-athlete alumni also loved the program wholeheartedly. These alumni, whom I knew by name and whose stories I heard, shared freely what they loved and why. When they felt heard and believed what they valued was equally valued by their alma mater, they felt connected to the university.

When they felt connected, they were more inclined to donate and to return to campus. It was a relationship cycle where making an effort to hear and understand was a key factor in achieving institutional outcomes that progressed the university forward.

Being a part of that process helped me to understand what I didn’t before, but I didn’t really realize the depth of my understanding until the recent announcement.

After disbelief, I felt sadness. I am connected to hundreds of alumni on social media, and I saw reactions ranging from anger to sadness to worry and everything in between.

I could empathize because I knew how I would feel if theatre were to disappear from Saint Francis.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I believe we are a lot farther from our past than ever before. The ties that bind seem frayed.

And it’s worrisome because, without a connection that motivates those from the past to support the future, viability becomes questionable.

Godspeed to my fellow alumni and all those, past and present, who made that little place on the mountain special.

Anita Baumann

Flinton