Centennial
The following is an excerpt from the Alumni Magazine of Salus University, Spring 2012.
After 36 years of service at the Pennsylvania College of Optometry (PCO) and Salus University, vice president and dean of Student Affairs Robert E. Horne, MS, plans to retire on June 30, 2012.
“Whatever you do, you’ve got to stop and think about the potential impact on students,” was the advice of the late Dr. John Crozier, recalled Dean Horne of the mentor and predecessor who hired him in 1976.
Indeed. During Dean Horne’s tenure, students have transformed and thrived. Student leadership opportunities flourished at many levels, providing them with experiences in service, governance and professional organizations, thereby enhancing their professional proficiency. Under his leadership, PCO also won renown for successfully recruiting and graduating more minority students than its fellow optometry schools. Salus graduates continue to uphold and extend the reputation of the University.
Yet, the man who has spent his career “caring about students and what they deal with on a daily basis,” once stood on the brink of becoming a career athlete or a government bureaucrat.
Back Story
Robert Horne grew up in Washington, D.C. “I had parents who were extremely hard-working common folk, who put us in a neighborhood where people pulled together. You cared about everybody in the community.”
Starting in eighth grade, Horne ran every day. He was into cross-country and he was competitive.
In high school, he qualified for a summer internship program under the Kennedy administration. He spent one summer as a messenger in the White House Executive Office Building (EOB), returning as a college student to work in publications, organizing bills and budget documents, and even driving for federal budget director, Charlie Schultze.
Contemplating college, Horne had “a suitcase full” of scholarships from which to choose. “My parents never said I had to go to school. But my mother, in her own way said, ‘You know, a lot of people don’t have the opportunity that you have.’”
In contrast, he confesses, “My idea was I can work, make money, get my own apartment, car, the usual. But the guys I worked with at the White House were older, and they said to me, ‘We’re not telling you you’ve got to go to school. We’re just not going to make it comfortable to work here if you don’t.’”
At Bowling Green University, Horne became an All-American in track and field, competing as a sprinter and setting a national record. “I ran with most of the guys who went to the 1968 Olympics,” he recalled. He majored in accounting since he loved numbers, and continued working at the EOB on the federal budget during semester breaks.
His entry into Student Affairs followed commencement, when he became assistant to the dean of students at Bowling Green while earning a master’s degree in higher education administration.
Spending time crunching numbers taught him how much he missed interacting with people. Horne shuns routine, which he calls “boring,” preferring “people work,” complete with its unpredictability. He explained, “I need to come to work and have my day planned, and have it go straight to hell when I walk in the door.”
Beyond Minorities
Tuning into the needs of all students - not only minorities - has been the hallmark of Dean Horne’s tenure. In doing so, he has never forgotten advice from Dr. Crozier. “John constantly reminded us that things were not always black and white, that there were many shades of grey. There might be other ways of looking at something.”
Horne said that the year before he came to PCO, the school had enrolled 10 minority students. Most of them had left the program before he arrived. He likened the situation to that of a host who invites five guests to dinner, but only serves food to four of them. The new director of Minority Students Affairs recognized that, although the institution had opened its doors, no changes had been made to the “culture of the organization.”
Change began. Things changed down to the slides used in classrooms that had inadvertently depicted diseases of deprivation as racial conditions, he said. Dean Horne credits those positive changes to “a complete institutional commitment, from the president’s office to the lowest paid individual on campus.”
Horne was instrumental in creating the PCO Summer Enrichment Program (SEP) in 1977. Originally funded by the government to support disadvantaged students, this six-week program was continued by the College when government funding ended and, by the early 1980s, its mission had shifted.
In contrast to some lingering misperceptions, today’s SEP draws many of the University’s finest students - from all programs - to its preview of a professional science curriculum. Some of the most well-respected faculty members teach SEP classes, bonding with students and serving as advisors. Dean Horne praised the dedication of Drs. Pierrette Dayhaw-Barker, Lorraine Lombardi and Charles Wormington, who have been with the Summer Enrichment Program since its inception, and Dr. Joan Wing, who has taught in the program since her arrival at PCO. “They provide a rigorous, disciplined introduction to a professional curriculum, within a welcoming context that helps students really belong,” said Dean Horne.
“The proof is in the pudding,” he added, pointing to the caliber of the leaders from myriad backgrounds that have entered their professions through SEP.
Whither Salus?
Salus is a microcosm, noted Dean Horne. “What you find within this institution reflects what’s external, and what’s going on outside the institution, you’ll find internally.”
He has observed important changes in students nationwide, over the generations spanning his service. He described today’s students as “extremely bright and motivated,” and noted that, for all their book smarts, these children of “helicopter parents” (he freely admits to being one himself) seem to have trouble “doing life” more than the students of the last decade.
“Students are looking for somebody to listen to them and help them grow,” he explained. Translating that into institutional operations, he said, “We’ve had to adjust.” That has meant the expansion of the student services, tutoring and counseling necessary in order to support successful students and ultimately, successful professionals. Dean Horne believes everyone on campus - faculty, staff, maintenance, security - now have a deeper understanding of their roles in encouraging students and in “becoming listening posts.”
“It’s worth it,” emphasized the dean. “Whatever we can do to support the students in their mission to accomplish this program, we’ve tried to put into the system.”
Having interviewed countless applicants over the years and being the senior administrator responsible for the Offices of Admissions and Registrar, Dean Horne has a comprehensive, holistic view of the entire recruitment process. He said, “It’s not just the responsibility of the folks in admissions to do recruitment. It’s everybody’s responsibility.”
He includes alumni in that message, noting, “Over sixty percent of our optometry students are here because of an experience with an optometrist.”
Whither Dean Horne?
Graduation may be Dean Horne’s favorite part of what he considers his “calling.” He appreciates the hugs, but said there’s more to it than that. At commencements, he remembers back through each student’s progress. He especially likes “to get behind the numbers,” recognizing those students whose “numbers” would not necessarily have predicted their glowing accomplishments. He is proudest of those many students who worked to turn their potential into great success.
Dean Horne is pleased to have helped ensure that health professionals do a better job of meeting the needs of all the public, “as opposed to just a segment of the public.”
A talented family welcomes Horne’s retirement. He anticipates more visits to his daughter in Maryland, “an incredible teacher,” and his “very talented” daughter in NYC, a recognized actress and singer. He was quick to note the musical talent comes from his wife, Valerie, a former backup singer for McFadden and Whitehead (“Ain’t No Stopping Us Now”) and her father, a bass player “for most of the jazz greats.”
Until Robert Ludlum writes a book, Horne has yet to read, Corvette clubs may be seeing more of this retiring dean. He has owned a Corvette since he was 18, and “enjoys tinkering.” His undetermined agenda also includes “re-building a 50s-era hot rod.”
It was Dean Horne’s goal “to make a difference, to leave this institution a better place” than he found it. He hopes he has done so. Legions of PCO and Salus graduates believe so.
