Editor's note: This story from The Journal's archives was originally published on May 16, 2004.

After 50 years, some thought this
would be the year he retired.

By JENNIFER D. JORDAN
Journal Staff Writer

The Providence Sunday Journal
Sunday, 5/16/2004

PROVIDENCE - John Nazarian starts signing the 1,300 diplomas in early May, tackling a box at a time. He uses a blue pen, so students know the signature is genuine. Occasionally he finds a typographical error and puts that diploma aside; sometimes he chuckles to himself as he reads a familiar name -- a child of a close friend or a student who struggled to finish. "You finally made it through," he thinks.

Since Nazarian became president of Rhode Island College, in 1990, he has autographed each diploma in this way. The gesture is characteristic both of Nazarian's devotion to his students and his tendency to manage even the smallest detail of the institution he has called home for 54 years.

At RIC's commencement yesterday, the college celebrated its 150th year and the 50th anniversary of Nazarian's graduation from Rhode Island College of Education, as RIC was then known. The son of immigrants, Nazarian was a first-generation college student from Pawtucket who couldn't afford to go anywhere else.

"If there had not been a Rhode Island College, he could not have gotten a higher education," said Lenore A. DeLucia, RIC's vice president of administration and finance, and a friend of Nazarian's for 42 years. "RIC was his first job. The college has become his family."

Many observers thought this would be the year Nazarian, 71, would step down. Several intimates, including DeLucia and George Metrey, dean of the School of Social Work, announced their retirement this spring. But Nazarian still has one year left on a three-year contract and won't say much on the subject of retirement. Colleagues say they have given up guessing what Nazarian might do or when.

"John will always see the unfinished business at the college," said math Prof. James E. Bierden, who is retiring after 35 years. "He sees himself as so entwined with the institution."

Some wish he were less so, and say it is time for new leadership. Others say a successor could not love or fight for RIC as intensely. When Nazarian leaves, they say, something irreplaceable will go with him.

"Some faculty don't like him, don't like his style," said Jason Blank, president of the faculty union. "But this is a president who loves being president and loves this place. The students matter to him, the faculty matter to him, like family."

A BORN PERFORMER, he used to play the violin and the oud (a lute from the Middle East) before audiences. In the classroom, Nazarian managed to capture his students' attention even when he was not in the room with them.

He was one of the first professors to lecture by closed-circuit television in the early 1960s, teaching 10 math classes at once. Nazarian's stage presence -- all 5 feet 6 inches of it -- was undiluted. Students sometimes raised their hands when he asked a question, forgetting he couldn't see them.

When he heard students were packing up their books toward the end of his televised lectures, Nazarian decided to retaliate.

The next class, he looked straight into the camera lens as he approached the lectern, the signal the lecture was ending. "Sit down!" he barked, and the startled students obeyed.

Although he hasn't taught math in 32 years, the professor in him hovers close to the surface. He doesn't hesitate to correct people's grammar in mid-conversation. Split infinitives and the use of "hopefully" instead of "I hope" are pet peeves.

"I should sometimes hold my tongue," Nazarian said. "It's the teacher in me."

At nearly 10,000 students, RIC is now too big for Nazarian to know everyone by name. But he still maintains an open-door policy, suspending business to hear students' concerns.

"John never forgets a name, so there's always an immediate recognition of who that person is," DeLucia said. "He makes an immediate connection with someone, and problems often get solved through that personal relationship."

Nazarian proofreads most documents that flow from the college -- from the biggest grant proposal to the most mundane announcement. More often than not, he finds mistakes.

"He reads every page of the course catalog," said Peg Brown, vice president for development and college relations. She jokes that Nazarian even selects the toilet paper for the college. "There's a [paint] at the college called 'Nazarian white' because that's the color he prefers in all the college's public spaces," Brown said.

Nazarian values precision in his passions, as well -- music, math and Arabic, the native tongue of his parents, which he still speaks fluently.

"They are all languages," he said. "I think we should be precise in language."

NAZARIAN'S perfectionism and paternalistic approach rankle some of RIC's faculty and staff, who say his meddling undermines their work and stymies progress.

"The advantage is that everything comes under his eye and he's a perfectionist," Blank said. "The drawback is that it slows everything down considerably."

Brian R. Allen, a former president of the professional staff association, said he and Nazarian had a relationship that fluctuated between "testy" and "cordial." He thinks Nazarian should retire.

"We need fresh blood," said Allen, who runs the campus center.

But Allen also praised Nazarian's financial leadership during lean times and the many physical improvements to the campus during his tenure. He called attention to Nazarian's character, saying he never broke his word.

"The one thing I can depend on is he is a fair man," Allen said.

Robert K. Bower, current president of the association and sometime critic of Nazarian, said the president's level of involvement can be frustrating.

But Bower says he's noticed that Nazarian has mellowed a bit recently.

"The president's traditional style is to play things close to the vest and make sure he has a hand in things," Bower said. But during the past year, Bower's publication department had greater latitude in creating logos and slogans for the college's 150th celebration.

Bower credits Nazarian with strengthening RIC's sense of identity and pride and helping the college to grow. When tensions between the union and administrators arise, mutual respect helps resolve them, Bower said.

Despite their union squabbles, Bower calls Nazarian "a very caring individual."

Nineteen years ago when Bower lost the mortgage on a house he was trying to buy, he called Nazarian for help.

"I was a fairly lowly director at the time," Bower said. "Behind the scenes, he found us another lender and the deal went through."

"It's a side of the president that most people don't see," Bower said.

Nazarian's compassion doesn't surprise his friends.

After George Metrey, dean of RIC's School of Social Work, lost his wife, Cheryl, in a car accident four years ago, Nazarian was a steadfast source of support.

"I was still in the emergency room in Tennessee," Metrey said. "He was the first one to call me."

THE EIGHTH OF 11 children born to immigrant parents from Armenia and Syria, Nazarian never married. A young love didn't work out and then life became busy, caring for his aging mother, becoming an administrator at RIC, working long days.

"I accept that what's meant to be, will be," he says of the way his life has worked out. "I'm not always happy about it, but I believe in a higher power. As I've gotten older, I've become more accepting, more emotionally mature." Nazarian remains close to his five surviving sisters and dozens of nieces and nephews. He is active in his Melkite Catholic church, loves to play golf and reads voraciously.

But retirement holds little allure for him right now.

"My energy comes from being able to make a difference," he said. "I believe this is still the college of opportunity for the people of Rhode Island."

Nazarian sees himself in RIC's current students -- many of them the children of immigrants with little money, students who couldn't pursue higher education if a place like RIC didn't exist.

"You'll always find we'll have people here who are the first ones in their family to come to college, and having come from a bilingual family, I know what that is like," Nazarian said. "I think that they should learn English, but they shouldn't ever forget their roots, their customs, language, traditions and culture."

DELUCIA, METREY and Bierden's departures leave a personal, as well as professional, void for Nazarian, and are another reminder of his own eventual exit. He mentions that only one of his five brothers lived past age 70.

"I think about it every day," he said. "But as long as I have my health and can make a difference, I won't retire."

He has left RIC only twice in 54 years -- on sabbaticals that allowed him to earn advanced degrees in mathematics.

Nazarian rattles off college history the way people recite family anecdotes. He recalls being interviewed as an incoming student by the college's second president, Lucius Whipple.

His favorite professor remains the late Christopher Mitchell, his mentor at RIC and the person who introduced him to golf. Mitchell died in 1957.

Over the years, he worked under the next five presidents.

In fact, Nazarian was passed over for the top job in 1986 after serving as acting president when President David Sweet died in office in 1984. The faculty union told the board of trustees that an outside academic was needed more than an inside administrator. The next president, Carol Guardo, stayed only three years.

"Sometimes you have to wait for the right time," DeLucia said. "It was just a perfect match. I often think he was more successful in his presidency because he didn't get it the first time."

ON A WARM May evening two weeks ago, Nazarian prepares for RIC's alumni award ceremony, an annual event that now draws almost 400 people.

Burnishing RIC's image matters to him, and he enjoys seeing former students who have succeeded.

"No matter where you go in Rhode Island, you will meet a Rhode Island College graduate," he said, listing names of state officials and top CEOs.

"We have a growing reputation. People are finding out about what we do here and how we do it."

Dressed in a gray glen plaid suit and a red print tie, he arrives an hour early at the Donovan dining center and wanders into a corner, where honorees will stand to have their pictures taken with him. He notices that a RIC Alumni Association banner is slightly crooked and instinctively straightens it.

Faculty, staff, friends and former students towing their children trickle in. Solomon A. Solomon, a member of the Board of Governors of Higher Education, receives a kiss on each cheek, Mediterranean style. Both men worship at St. Basil the Great, in Lincoln. Others receive a quick hug or a warm handshake, Nazarian's brown eyes seldom leaving their faces as they catch up. He doesn't flag, even after 90 minutes of such greetings.

"He just thrives at these events," Peg Brown says.

Nazarian chides some graduates. "You say you miss me, but you never come to visit me," he jokes. He straightens pins on Solomon's lapel, admonishing him for wearing so many.

AS HE STROLLS through the heart of his campus, Nazarian reflects on his accomplishments. He's hired more than half the faculty and still insists on meeting every potential hire. Under his leadership, the campus has expanded, the School of Management and Technology was created, a new School of Social Work was built, new departments were added and curriculum updated. A few years ago, the college kicked off its first capital campaign, which is expected to reach its target of $25 million by the end of this year.

But all that is not enough. His work is not finished. Talk of retirement quickly turns to plans for the future. Nazarian is pushing for a $30-million dormitory he hopes will enhance campus life and alter RIC's commuter-school image, if only state funding hurdles can be overcome.

He remembers when the college moved to the Mount Pleasant campus in 1958 with just six buildings. Today there are 41, including the Nazarian Center for the Performing Arts, which opened in 2000. "It's humbling," he said of the honor. "Especially since I'm on this side of the earth."

* * *

THE NAZARIAN FILE

June 1954: Graduated from the Rhode Island College of Education with degree in mathematics and science.

September 1954: Hired as math instructor at RICE.

1957: Received master's degree in mathematics and education, Brown University.

1958: Promoted to assistant professor.

1961: Received master's degree in mathematics, University of Illinois.

1967: Received Ph.D in mathematics, New York University.

1967: Promoted to associate professor.

1969-70: Named acting chairman, department of mathematics.

1971: Named full professor.

1970-72: Named associate dean of arts & sciences.

1972-77: Named special assistant to president.

1977-81: Named vice president of administrative services.

1981-89: Named vice president for administration and finance.

1984-86, 1990: Named acting president.

May 1990: Named president.