I have spent the majority of my lifetime researching, analyzing, and just plain struggling to understand women. Finding someone who has a deep knowledge and understanding of a subject that perpetually mystifies you is easy, so needless to say, I do very much admire the subject of this week’s Gentleman’s Time: the Dean of Women, Toni Clark.

Another difficult task is waking up at 6:45 am for a dog walk with said Dean. Clark and her husband Larry Thornton walk their dogs at the same time every morning because “it’s better for the dogs to have a routine,” says Ms. Clark. Admittedly, despite the early hour, her dogs were incredibly excited and knew they were going to smell the same bushes, chase the same pets, and turn the same corners as the countless days before. They only have two dogs, so I was just along for the ride as it were; I walked ahead with Ms. Clark and their large, black dog Valentino, while her husband Mr. Thornton stayed behind with the smaller, blonde dog Daisy. The couple’s attitude of being responsible members of a larger community is apparent even in their happy dogs- the dogs came from a shelter for abused or abandoned animals.

Talking with Ms. Clark occasionally makes me nervous. Ms. Clark, along with carrying the air of a refined intellectual, is uncannily articulate. Yours truly is hardly so, and I did my best to hide any trace of accent or slang that usually speckles my vernacular. I would hate to mislead my audience however; it is an immense pleasure to talk with Toni Clark. Ms. Clark is very honest, but never brash, and is very willing to share her experiences and wisdom with anyone.

Along the morning walk, we encountered a parade of other morning regulars who commented on the addition of a new member to the Clark/Thornton party. The most plucky of these passer-by comments was “Boy, he’s sure not a dog!” Indeed, I am not a dog, but seeing that most of the neighborhood is a decade Ms. Clark’s senior, I was often introduced in the manner that a young nephew or even grandson would be. Truthfully, while I had never put my finger on it before, Ms. Clark’s and my relationship is something like that of a grandson to grandmother.

Dean Clark is nothing like the grandmother I knew; she doesn’t wake up before dawn to smoke cigarettes and drink brandy, she bestows wisdom in eloquent bits instead of bitter rants, and she presumably drives more defensively. I consider Toni Clark and my original grandmother both ladies, but in completely different ways. The wisdom my grandmother taught me while young was incredibly useful in the backcountry of Louisiana, but would be hardly relevant to my life now in suburban California. Ms. Clark’s wisdom, however, is local. She wielded her erudition of Southern California gardening and contemporary politics freely, although I bet she’s not half the shot Grandma Jackie was with a .22 .

We talked for almost an hour along our tour of her Claremont neighborhood, and the most poignant thing I believe she spoke about was related to passion. She happily noted that President Oxtoby had come to the Women’s Union Thursday lunch discussion. I asked how it went because I would personally feel slightly uncomfortable at one of these discussions, so I figured The Ox might as well. Everything went fine (as noted last week, Oxtoby is a far better man than I), and it consisted of the usual intense discussion of social inequality and fight for justice. I believe the words “raging” and “passionate” were used, but it was early in the morning. I inquired of Ms. Clark if any of the anger of her youth had subsided, but surprisingly she replied that “it’s hard to forget the passions of your youth.” I don’t really think I grew up with adults who were outwardly passionate about social issues. My father participated in protesting the Vietnam War, and while he certainly wasn’t a fan of the new situation in Iraq, he is hardly a passionate activist working with young people who will continue to try and change the world. In short, Toni Clark is inspiring.

One of the more humorous instances on our walk was when I confessed that I was worried that I was addressing her wrongly, because I didn’t really know if using “yes ma’am” or calling her “Ms. Toni” was appropriate. My mother raised my brothers and myself to respect adults, but I told Ms. Clark honestly that “my mother didn’t exactly verse my three brothers and me in feminist theory.” This surprised her for reasons that aren’t really clear, but she assured me that I was doing just fine.

Although we did discuss serious issues like political demographics in Claremont and her protesting days in undergraduate school at UC Berkeley, we also engaged in plenty of light banter. We talked about her and her husband’s recent trip to Venice for the premiere of her husband’s first adapted screenplay. We joked with Professor of History Sam Yamashita, out for his morning jog, about the tans that he and Mr. Larry had when they returned from their respective trips to Maui; Prof. Yamashita claimed he was so tan that the new Japanese resident in Oldenborg thought he wasn’t even Japanese. As we continued on, we passed the houses of Deans and Professors. We petted other dogs of the neighborhood that belonged to Lord knows who. And most importantly, I had the opportunity to catch an amazing woman’s lighter side, despite it being so early in the morning.