It has come to the attention of the Dean's Office that the motto is asked about more than any other feature of the institution — more than the seal, more than the parchment weight, more than the curious fact that the Registrar answers her own correspondence. We have, to this point, declined to explain it. We have allowed the Latin to do the work Latin is supposed to do, which is to look serious and be left alone.
This policy is now relaxed. Only briefly. Only once.
Per Arduum ad Assholum is best rendered in English as "through difficulty, to assholery." The first half is borrowed, shamelessly, from the older and more respected mottos of older and more respected institutions — the kind of places that have crests carved into limestone and alumni who write checks without being asked. Per aspera ad astra, "through hardship to the stars," is the family the phrase came from. We file it under inspiration by adjacency.
The second half is ours. It is the thing that makes the motto not a motto but a statement of scope. Many institutions promise to elevate the student toward something grand — a star, a truth, a career in public service. We promise to deliver the student, after a reasonable amount of effort and the payment of a modest fee, to a credentialed and confident version of the self they already were on the walk in. This is not a ladder. It is a mirror with a better frame.
The word itself — assholum — is, properly, a pseudo-Latin construction. A Classicist would not approve. A Classicist, in our experience, does not approve of most things and can be safely ignored on this specific point. The declension is constructed to fit the rhythm of the surrounding phrase, to scan when spoken aloud, and to retain its precise English meaning without being softened by translation. A prestigious university education should, at a minimum, be able to say what it means.
People sometimes ask whether the motto is "serious." We would like to answer that question with another. Is a crest serious? Is a seal serious? Is the act of commissioning a full regalia of ribbons, ornaments, and ceremonies to mark a milestone in an individual's life — a milestone that, in many cases, consists of successfully submitting forms — serious? Every institution is a performance. Ours is merely honest about the register.
There is, of course, a practical matter. A motto is not decoration. It is a filter. A visitor who reads Per Arduum ad Assholum and continues browsing has self-selected into our tradition, and a visitor who reads it and leaves has done the institution and themselves a favor. The Registrar's time is limited; the motto saves her days.
We will add, by way of closing, that the motto is engraved on every certificate and embossed on every seal. Graduates are not required to explain it to family members who inquire. In fact, explanation is contraindicated. The Latin is there to be left alone. If it is read, and understood, and quietly agreed with, that is sufficient.
Per Arduum ad Assholum, then. Through difficulty, to assholery. A promise we keep, because the alternative is a motto we do not believe in, and we believe in this one wholeheartedly.