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Feature Fall 2001 Summer 2005 Summer 2007 Winter 2015
It’s good to be back at BYU. There’s not another campus in the world that I have visited half as often as BYU. For many years, EY has been the number one employer of BYU students, and most years BYU has been the number one source of candidates for EY. It’s a wonderful two-way relationship.
It seems like only a few years ago that I sat where you are sitting. I was an English major, and that meant that I liked reading and writing. It also meant that I had no idea what I was going to do with my career.
The Sound of Music swept the box office, Martin Luther King Jr. led thousands to Alabama’s capital, and the first commercial satellite launched into orbit. The year was 1965, and the BYU MPA students of the inaugural class were collecting their diplomas and preparing to embody the credo “Enter to learn; go forth to serve.”
One of the most important projects in my ongoing education is training my emotions and recognizing how vital they are in doing good work. We don’t check our emotions at the door when we come to work. And we take the emotional aftertaste of work back into our homes.
Judith Martin, of Miss Manners newspaper fame, wrote in a recent column, "Question: At what age should children be taught how to eat properly? Answer: In their mid-to late-twenties. Question: What is the best venue for this instruction?
This is the third of a five-part personal financial planning series sponsored by the Peery Institute of Financial Services. The next installment, about getting out of debt, will appear in the Fall 2005 issue.
In finance there’s a well-known problem called the principal-agent conflict. The conflict arises when managers and owners of a firm have different incentives. When that happens, managers may make decisions that benefit themselves at the expense of owners.
A student-initiated fundraiser is reaching new heights at the Marriott School. The second annual Corporate Climb, held 26 March 2005, helped raise more than $12,000 for the school’s annual fund. Participants sprinted up stairs and raced around corners—but not because they were late for class.
Several weeks ago, I traveled to the north side of Chicago to visit my son. I drove from downtown Chicago to Lincoln Park, where he lives. As I turned onto Clybourn Avenue, I suddenly encountered a scene that I hadn’t seen or thought of in years—the Clybourn Gospel Chapel.