Ã山ǿ¼é

I love dogs and all animals, but I did not want one at the time, especially a puppy. I was the new Provost for Ã山ǿ¼é, when my family and I arrived in Evansville from Buffalo, New York, in 2010, and knew I would be too busy to participate in its care and that it would take all of us to simulate and create the loving home it deserved.

Having had many pets in my life and both bachelor's and master's degrees in animal sciences, I knew how much work a pet can be. I also knew we were a spontaneous family, with a lifestyle unsuitable for a puppy. Still, my wife, Lynn, insisted. "It would be good for the children," who had been uprooted from their home and friends.

I was a firm No, but she was a firmer Yes.

Our children, Ayinde and Nia, promised to care for the dog but did not know what they were promising. They did not know the responsibility that goes into caring for a life. Nia, my then 10-year-old researcher, found a breed known for its smaller size, limited shedding and positive temperament. Despite my ignored objections, I drove us to Kentucky to get our new family member, Jaz, an eight-week-old, beautiful, jet black cockapoo.

The first evening, Jaz cried and cried. Nia woke me in the middle of the night to tell me he was sad. I explained we were his new family now and it would take time for him to get acclimated. The next morning, Nia and Ayinde got up early to feed, pet and take Jaz outside before going to school, like I knew they would on his first day at our home. But it wouldn't take long for their promises to take responsibility to fade.

A few days after we got Jaz, Nia asked if the family could go get ice cream. I reminded her of our responsibilities to Jaz, that he was new to our home and could not be left alone. We have to be here with Jaz, engage with Jaz, learn who Jaz is and help Jaz learn about us. Now, go get your brother, get Jaz's leash and take him for a walk. That happened three days in a row. First it was ice cream, then a movie and then a family ride. After each request, I said the same thing: No. Go get your brother, get Jaz's leash and take him for a walk.

Nia came to me on the fourth day holding Jaz and in tears. Baba, she said, WE made a mistake. Our family doesn't have enough time for Jaz. We are a family on the go and Jaz is not able to go, he's just too young.

I sent Nia to get her mother and brother so we could have a family discussion. When they were all in the room, Nia's crying became more intense while she petted Jaz as if to convey, don't worry, we will get you a good new home—a family with time.

I asked Nia to read aloud what was on Jaz's collar.

She read his name, address and phone number.

I said, read all the words on the collar. It says Jaz Rochon. You left off Rochon. Nia and Ayinde, Jaz is a family member. He is one of us. We cannot give him away. That is not the way we work in this house. We, all of us in this household, made a commitment to Jaz when we brought him into our home. His life depends on each of us. He is our responsibility.

Responsibility is something I think a lot about as a father, husband, son, brother, friend, neighbor and President of our University. I constantly ask myself, "What lessons in responsibility am I teaching my children and what responsibilities to the world at large is this University teaching our students?"

I believe each of us has a responsibility to not only our immediate, personal worlds but the world at large as well. Young people are always watching the way adults in their lives navigate responsibilities, (especially when corners are cut) and it influences their understanding of commitment and responsibility. As the leader of the Ã山ǿ¼é, I am committed to instilling in our students a sense of responsibility to society. To teach them the importance of being intentional in making the world a better place for all living creatures, humans and animals alike.

At Ã山ǿ¼é it's not just about academic excellence; it's about cultivating a compassionate and socially-aware community. Whether it's ensuring that our students engage with children through the Boys and Girls Club or simply fostering a campus environment that promotes global citizenship and respect. Our responsibility as an educational institution is honorable and immense.

Thirteen years after Jaz's arrival in my family's lives he still serves as a poignant reminder of the profound responsibilities we all bear. The lessons Ã山ǿ¼é imparts on responsibility echoes beyond the classroom, shaping the future actions and contributions of our students to make the world at large a better place. The responsibilities each of us bears to society—from the neighbor next door to those being persecuted halfway around the world— are equally immense.

I believe that we all (beginning with me and including our entire campus community—students too) must deeply consider our responsibilities—how we define them, how we engage them and how we execute them. Our children and the world at large deserve this effort from each of us. Remember, their eyes are upon us.