Student plays president for a day at Widener

Jay Bechtel's first decision as president of Widener University was a doozy.

He could pluck from the waiting list and admit the hopeful high school senior whose grades and SATs were mediocre at best. Or, despite that student's improving attendance record and ambitious course load, he could send him packing.

"I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt," Bechtel said. "I hope he doesn't prove me wrong."

"Sounds good, Mr. President," responded Ed Wright, Widener director of admissions. "We'll admit him."

And just like that, at 9:20 a.m. Tuesday, Bechtel - a senior mechanical engineering student - made his first executive decision as president for the day at Widener.

Bechtel had been among 10 students who applied for the role and four finalists who auditioned. He was selected by a panel of university faculty and staff led by James T. Harris III, Widener's real president, who designed the program so students can learn about the power of leadership and the many facets of a 6,600-student, $190 million enterprise.

During his one-day reign, Bechtel asked an alumnus for money, brainstormed how to reduce student apathy, and helped plan graduation - all while gracefully ducking requests for raises.

"Give me a call tomorrow on that one," Bechtel told Charles Nippert, one of his engineering professors.

Meanwhile, Harris played student, taking over Bechtel's schedule.

In the morning, Harris gave a group of prospective students and their parents a tour - Bechtel's campus job - and worked out in the gym. In the afternoon, he really sweated, through Bechtel's advanced-engineering courses.

"He's a social studies guy," Bechtel noted.

Harris has been doing the part-Cinderella, part-Freaky Friday switch for his seven years at Widener and for eight years before that at Defiance College in Ohio.

Students, Harris said, "get a firsthand look, behind the scenes, of how the university runs. And it's good for me to know what it's like to be a student again."

Harris, however, intervenes if a sensitive issue requires his attention. On Tuesday, for example, he took a conference call with the National Collegiate Athletic Association on the future of Division III athletics.

Over the years, some student presidents have fired a favorite staff member, essentially giving him or her the day off. Bechtel wanted to dismiss associate professor Mark Nicosia, but Nicosia had too many classes to teach.

Operations director Carl Pierce has been "fired" several times; a few years ago, he showed up prepared, golf clubs in hand. Bechtel didn't can him this year.

"I'm glad he didn't," the clubless Pierce said, motioning to the steady rain outside the window.

To become president, each finalist had to present to the selection committee an issue that he or she would try to address.

Bechtel, 21, a Baltimore native with a long string of student activities, including student representative to the board of trustees, chose apathy. He said he wanted to get his classmates to care more about the school, its home city - Chester - and the world.

"Very presidential," said Cecilia McCormick, Harris' aide.

Bechtel, a 6-foot-2 former high school football player, took the president's parking spot behind Old Main at 8:30 a.m. and began his day behind Harris' cherry oak desk. His next stop was the admissions office, where he reviewed the cases of two students on the waiting list.

Bechtel struggled with his choice.

"You didn't think we were going to give you an easy one, did you?" asked Wright, the admissions director.

Bechtel admitted both students.

"Softie," Harris kidded later.

Harris said he had never rescinded the borderline admissions decisions made by student presidents over the years.

Bechtel, in suit and tie, found the task "a little unsettling" but enlightening as he weighed a daily dilemma for admissions officials.

"From a sheet of paper, you have to figure the guy out," Bechtel said.

At 9:30, he delivered bagels and doughnuts to the engineering department. Harris makes surprise breakfast drops once a month. Engineering was due; Bechtel picked it.

"I guess it pays to know people in high places," secretary Georgeann Gardner said.

Bechtel then sat in on a graduation planning meeting, a war room of sorts.

"I didn't know we had a table that long," he said later. "There were so many people."

At 11, he met with a group of students and staff to discuss apathy. Afterward, he planned to propose to Harris that someone be appointed to better market student organizations and encourage participation. He also would like to see a "live in Chester for a day" program in which students spend time in a poor neighborhood.

Then it was on to the president's dining room for a private lunch with Michael Brady, a 1997 graduate, trustee, and president of the alumni council.

Bechtel's job? Ask for money.

"Once you make an ask, don't backpedal," Harris advised the day before. "Wait for his response."

The meeting was scheduled for one hour. Fifty-five minutes in, Bechtel still hadn't popped the question.

Brady, a local financial planner and gym owner, helped him out and offered to increase his pledge to $2,500.

"Is that OK?" Brady asked.

"That will be great," Bechtel said, looking relieved.

Bechtel also learned not to order a club sandwich at a business meeting: "Crumbs got everywhere."

Meanwhile, outside the university center, Harris boarded a shuttle bus with parents and students to give them a tour of the 110-acre campus.

The day before, Harris asked Bechtel: "Where do you take them?" It wasn't a job he had done.

But Harris, donning a student tour guide windbreaker, was ready: He pointed out the expansion on campus, the extensive athletic facilities, and the university's historical trivia, including how Fitz Eugene Dixon Jr., grandson of George D. Widener, always wore Widener's ring. Widener, who died when the Titantic sank, persuaded his wife to get in a lifeboat so she could save the heirloom.

"He was our largest benefactor over the years," Harris said of Dixon.

"Wow," said Florida real estate developer Charles Huether, who brought his 17-year-old son on the tour.

With six children, Huether said he had been on 50 college campus tours over the years, but never one given by a president.

"What a warm touch," he said.

Later, in assistant professor Tulong Zhu's mechanical-engineering class, Harris tried his best to take notes for Bechtel, who was across campus in the University Center atrium, standing at a lectern before faculty and students and making his "town hall" speech.

"The main reason I wanted to be president for a day is because I believe in Widener," Bechtel said. "I believe that Widener is producing students who are better educated, more engaged, and better prepared for the real world than anywhere else."

With that, Bechtel's presidential day was almost done.

"Tonight, I'll try to knock out a little homework," he said. "Back-to-school world."