A LIFE REMEMBERED
by Lydia Hall
Tufts Observer Online, MA
Oct 21 2006
Tufts alumna Ricanne Annik Hadrian had a passion for campus activism,
a commitment to fighting for social justice, and a love for the color
purple. At the end of her life, she also had breast cancer, a disease
that one in every eight women will contract during her lifetime,
to which Hadrian succumbed ten years ago, leaving behind a husband,
a four-year-old daughter, and a group of friends committed to keeping
her memory alive. Hadrian was raised in Providence, Rhode Island,
in a traditional Armenian family. After attending a high school at
which she was involved in student government and she came to Tufts as
a member of the Class of 1978. As a freshman she lived in Carmichael
with future close friend Liz Schnee. "Living with Ricanne was great,"
Schnee remembered. "She was extremely outgoing, warm, and very tidy
and organized. She made our room a welcoming place for friends to hang
out." Schnee also recalled that her roommate was a supportive friend,
helping her to learn college-level study skills and introducing her
to new people.
Throughout her time at Tufts, Hadrian was well-known on campus. Robyn
Gittleman, Director of the Experimental College, who worked closely
with Hadrian, remembered that "Ricanne was so energetic and passionate
about what she believed in that she seemed 'bigger than life.'" Schnee
says her friend was "a radical, independent thinker, [a] risk taker
who spurned conventions, wore outrageous, clown-like colorful (purple,
red, turquoise) clothes, [and] was not shy to speak her mind."
Hadrian brought this dynamism to many activities at Tufts, including
theatre, the Women's Center, and the Committee on Student Life,
as well as activist work that extended beyond campus. She was an
involved member of the Tufts Political Action Committee (TPAC).
Schnee noted that at one point Hadrian even "led a student takeover
of [a campus] hall in protest of the apartheid government." Gittleman
also remembers this determination, recalling that Hadrian "never took
no for an answer. If things did not work out as she wanted, she would
come back with a new approach or a different focus on a proposal she
thought was important and keep trying until she got a positive answer."
Surprisingly, love turned out to be among the many things that
Hadrian's activist work brought to her life. During a summer internship
at the Somerville United Neighborhoods she met her husband, Scott
Spencer. Spencer reminisced about his initial attraction to his
future wife: "She was beautiful and smart and committed to social
justice, and cared deeply about others and was fun to be with,"
he remembered. "She loved a good argument and was very passionate
about what she believed in and cared about." They married in 1987,
and Hadrian gave birth to their daughter Annik several years later.
Even after her graduation from Tufts in 1978, Hadrian remained in the
area. As Gittleman noted, "Her interest in our neighboring community
kept her nearby." Gittleman and Hadrian also remained friends after
Hadrian graduated. Gittleman recalled, "I always looked forward to her
visits and found she was someone I wanted to talk with, argue with,
and hug."
Hadrian found another passion after graduation in her work as an
affordable housing activist, after training as an urban planner at
MIT, lobbying for lower-cost homes for the underprivileged. She was
an effective community leader, as Schnee remembered, "she harnessed
her excellent people skills, her keen intelligence, her ability to see
opportunity in tough times, her perseverance and her manners, to make
incredible things happen for low-income people." Indeed, this last
quality was one that, according to Schnee, served Hadrian very well
in building ties with the local community, "developing professional
relationships with banks and other financial institutions in her work
in affordable housing."
Hadrian tackled her unexpected breast cancer diagnosis with strength.
She was "brave but realistic throughout her illness," Schnee noted,
adding that Hadrian's selfless spirit prevailed and even then:
"She worried more about the impact of her death on Scott, Annik and
her mother than she feared the process for herself." Towards the end
of her life, Hadrian entered a hospice, where she continued to make
friends among the patients and nurses, some of whom told Schnee that
"she was the person they were the saddest to lose in all of their
time at the hospice."
During her last days at the hospice, Hadrian held a small "letting go"
ceremony, involving prayer, song, and expressions of her thankfulness
for the time she had with those she loved. Said Schnee, "I think
we were all a little taken aback at her ability to organize such
a selfless and also such an attention getting event at the very
end of her life." In 1996, just shy of her 40th birthday, Hadrian
finally succumbed to breast cancer. At her funeral, even those with
whom she had sparred during her life came out in support. As Scott
Spencer recalled, "At the end of her professional career she was an
absolute 'thorn in the side' to the banking community as she lobbied
for affordable housing. Nonetheless, at her funeral dozens of bankers
were there to honor and celebrate her work."
It has been ten years since Ricanne Hadrian died, but her extraordinary
presence is still felt in the lives of her husband, her daughter,
Annik, who is now 14, and her friends. This October is Breast Cancer
Awareness Month, as well as the ten-year anniversary of Hadrian's
death. Schnee wanted to remember her friend's life. Along with Annik,
Scott Spencer, and a group of Hadrian's friends, Schnee will walk
in the American Cancer Society Breast Cancer walk in Providence on
October 22. There has been an outpouring of donations from those who
knew Hadrian, which makes her daughter happy: "Ricanne Hadrian loved
to bring people together for a good cause and I think she would be
touched to know that we are all supporting such a worthwhile event,"
she wrote in a letter to sponsors. "From the many pictures, stories
and memories friends and family have shared with me, I realize what
an astounding person she was."
"We remember her most deeply in our hearts and how she lives through
the actions and life decisions of people she touched and influenced,"
Scott Spencer said. Schnee, for her part, will never forget a
speech that Hadrian made at their 1978 Tufts graduation. Hadrian
"encourage[ed] each graduate to take our education and play a role
in making the world a better place." As Schnee remembers, "It was
beautiful, and her life and words have inspired [my] work."
by Lydia Hall
Tufts Observer Online, MA
Oct 21 2006
Tufts alumna Ricanne Annik Hadrian had a passion for campus activism,
a commitment to fighting for social justice, and a love for the color
purple. At the end of her life, she also had breast cancer, a disease
that one in every eight women will contract during her lifetime,
to which Hadrian succumbed ten years ago, leaving behind a husband,
a four-year-old daughter, and a group of friends committed to keeping
her memory alive. Hadrian was raised in Providence, Rhode Island,
in a traditional Armenian family. After attending a high school at
which she was involved in student government and she came to Tufts as
a member of the Class of 1978. As a freshman she lived in Carmichael
with future close friend Liz Schnee. "Living with Ricanne was great,"
Schnee remembered. "She was extremely outgoing, warm, and very tidy
and organized. She made our room a welcoming place for friends to hang
out." Schnee also recalled that her roommate was a supportive friend,
helping her to learn college-level study skills and introducing her
to new people.
Throughout her time at Tufts, Hadrian was well-known on campus. Robyn
Gittleman, Director of the Experimental College, who worked closely
with Hadrian, remembered that "Ricanne was so energetic and passionate
about what she believed in that she seemed 'bigger than life.'" Schnee
says her friend was "a radical, independent thinker, [a] risk taker
who spurned conventions, wore outrageous, clown-like colorful (purple,
red, turquoise) clothes, [and] was not shy to speak her mind."
Hadrian brought this dynamism to many activities at Tufts, including
theatre, the Women's Center, and the Committee on Student Life,
as well as activist work that extended beyond campus. She was an
involved member of the Tufts Political Action Committee (TPAC).
Schnee noted that at one point Hadrian even "led a student takeover
of [a campus] hall in protest of the apartheid government." Gittleman
also remembers this determination, recalling that Hadrian "never took
no for an answer. If things did not work out as she wanted, she would
come back with a new approach or a different focus on a proposal she
thought was important and keep trying until she got a positive answer."
Surprisingly, love turned out to be among the many things that
Hadrian's activist work brought to her life. During a summer internship
at the Somerville United Neighborhoods she met her husband, Scott
Spencer. Spencer reminisced about his initial attraction to his
future wife: "She was beautiful and smart and committed to social
justice, and cared deeply about others and was fun to be with,"
he remembered. "She loved a good argument and was very passionate
about what she believed in and cared about." They married in 1987,
and Hadrian gave birth to their daughter Annik several years later.
Even after her graduation from Tufts in 1978, Hadrian remained in the
area. As Gittleman noted, "Her interest in our neighboring community
kept her nearby." Gittleman and Hadrian also remained friends after
Hadrian graduated. Gittleman recalled, "I always looked forward to her
visits and found she was someone I wanted to talk with, argue with,
and hug."
Hadrian found another passion after graduation in her work as an
affordable housing activist, after training as an urban planner at
MIT, lobbying for lower-cost homes for the underprivileged. She was
an effective community leader, as Schnee remembered, "she harnessed
her excellent people skills, her keen intelligence, her ability to see
opportunity in tough times, her perseverance and her manners, to make
incredible things happen for low-income people." Indeed, this last
quality was one that, according to Schnee, served Hadrian very well
in building ties with the local community, "developing professional
relationships with banks and other financial institutions in her work
in affordable housing."
Hadrian tackled her unexpected breast cancer diagnosis with strength.
She was "brave but realistic throughout her illness," Schnee noted,
adding that Hadrian's selfless spirit prevailed and even then:
"She worried more about the impact of her death on Scott, Annik and
her mother than she feared the process for herself." Towards the end
of her life, Hadrian entered a hospice, where she continued to make
friends among the patients and nurses, some of whom told Schnee that
"she was the person they were the saddest to lose in all of their
time at the hospice."
During her last days at the hospice, Hadrian held a small "letting go"
ceremony, involving prayer, song, and expressions of her thankfulness
for the time she had with those she loved. Said Schnee, "I think
we were all a little taken aback at her ability to organize such
a selfless and also such an attention getting event at the very
end of her life." In 1996, just shy of her 40th birthday, Hadrian
finally succumbed to breast cancer. At her funeral, even those with
whom she had sparred during her life came out in support. As Scott
Spencer recalled, "At the end of her professional career she was an
absolute 'thorn in the side' to the banking community as she lobbied
for affordable housing. Nonetheless, at her funeral dozens of bankers
were there to honor and celebrate her work."
It has been ten years since Ricanne Hadrian died, but her extraordinary
presence is still felt in the lives of her husband, her daughter,
Annik, who is now 14, and her friends. This October is Breast Cancer
Awareness Month, as well as the ten-year anniversary of Hadrian's
death. Schnee wanted to remember her friend's life. Along with Annik,
Scott Spencer, and a group of Hadrian's friends, Schnee will walk
in the American Cancer Society Breast Cancer walk in Providence on
October 22. There has been an outpouring of donations from those who
knew Hadrian, which makes her daughter happy: "Ricanne Hadrian loved
to bring people together for a good cause and I think she would be
touched to know that we are all supporting such a worthwhile event,"
she wrote in a letter to sponsors. "From the many pictures, stories
and memories friends and family have shared with me, I realize what
an astounding person she was."
"We remember her most deeply in our hearts and how she lives through
the actions and life decisions of people she touched and influenced,"
Scott Spencer said. Schnee, for her part, will never forget a
speech that Hadrian made at their 1978 Tufts graduation. Hadrian
"encourage[ed] each graduate to take our education and play a role
in making the world a better place." As Schnee remembers, "It was
beautiful, and her life and words have inspired [my] work."