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President Christ, Provost
Bourque, Shelly Lazarus, distinguished faculty, parents,
friends and members of the
Class of 2003, good afternoon.
I want to begin by thanking
you very much for the honorary degree. I know I speak for
my fellow honorees in saying how
grateful I am. I have seen the list of those who have received
such degrees from Smith in the past and it is breathtaking.
I can now say I have something in common not only with Eleanor
Roosevelt and Toni Morrison, but also Garry Trudeau and President
William McKinley.
To understate the case, this
college has a storied history as a pioneer in women’s
education, a defender of academic and intellectual freedom,
and a leader
in teaching the responsibilities
of global citizenship. Looking now at the Class of 2003,
it is obvious to us – not that we are biased -- that
those traditions continue to pay rich dividends.
To the parents,
I can only say, as the mother of three college graduates,
that I think I know how you feel this afternoon.
The day has finally come. You cannot help marveling at how
short the interval has been between diapers and diplomas.
You are a little sad, a little relieved, a little astonished,
and totally proud.
To the students, I say congratulations.
Today is a time for celebration, for looking back and admitting
that all the
reading and studying, papers and presentations were worth
it. In future years, you will recall this ceremony and realize
that today, May 18, 2003, was the day you first began to
forget everything you learned in college. But as the names
of dead European kings and the various body parts of dissected
frogs begin to fade, the true value of your days here at
Smith will become more and more apparent. Because although
you have learned a great deal about the world around you;
chances are you have learned even more about yourself.
That
is vital, because from this day forward, you will have
to rely not on grades or guidance from professors to tell
you how you are doing and where you stand. You will have
to rely, instead, on an inner compass; and whether that
compass
is true will determine whether you become a drifter who
is blown about by every breeze; or a doer, determined to
chart
your own course and unafraid, when necessary, to set sail
against the strongest wind.
Today is a day of joy and for
approaching the future with optimism, yet in our high spirits
we cannot help but be conscious
of shadows. These include the shock of terror. The sorrow
of innocent lives lost whether to war, disease or some other
plague. The insecurity and injustice caused by confusion
resulting from the gap between rich and poor around the world.
And the uncertainty caused by confusion about the direction
of change in Iraq and the possibility of future conflicts.
There
is a temptation to withdraw mentally from such perils,
as if focusing our thoughts elsewhere might cause them to
vanish. But avoidance is no way to live life. One of the most
moving stories to come out of September 11, 2001 involved
a passenger on United Flight 93, which went
down in Pennsylvania. The passenger, Tom Burnett, called
his wife from the hijacked plane, realizing by then that
two other planes had crashed into the World Trade Center.
“I know we’re going
to die,” he said. “But
some of us are going to do something about it.” And
because they did, many other lives were saved. Since that
awful morning, the memory of their heroism has inspired us.
It should also instruct us. Because when you think about
it, “I know we’re going to die,” is a wholly
unremarkable statement. Each of us here this afternoon could
say the same. It is Burnett’s next words that were
both matter of fact and electrifying. “Some of us are
going to do something about it.”
Those words, it seems
to me, convey the fundamental challenge put to us by life.
We are all mortal. What divides us is
the use we make of the time and opportunities we have.
Another
way of thinking about the same question is to consider the
recent discovery of similarities between the genetic
code of a human being and that of a mouse. We are ninety-five
percent the same. Perhaps each night, we should ask ourselves
what we have done to prove there is a difference. After all,
mice eat and drink, groom themselves, chase each other’s
tails, and try to avoid danger. How does our idea of “have
a nice day” depart from that? It is possible, of course,
that we are all so busy using time-saving devices we don’t
have time to do anything meaningful.
Or we may have the right
intentions, but instead of acting, we decide to wait – until
we are out of school, until we can afford a downpayment on
a home, until we can finance
college for our own children, or until we can free up time
in retirement. We keep waiting until we run out of “untils.” Then
it is too late. Our plane has crashed and we haven’t
done anything about it.
It’s not my intention
this afternoon to deliver a lecture -- or a sermon. But I
will ask a question.
When you accept your
diploma a few minutes from now, will you do so with complacency
and self-satisfaction, or determined
to strive for goals that matter? Will you go through life
congratulating yourself for all that you have, or challenging
yourself to find more and better ways to give? That is your
choice. Fortunately, in making it, you will have no shortage
of role models, for others have blazed a path in the right
direction.
For example, Sophia Smith could
have made her bequest to some frivolous cause -- Amherst
perhaps -- but instead
she placed her faith in educating women, creating a legacy
that has opened doors for you and helped change the face
of the world.
One hundred years ago, Jane
Addams was a rare woman college graduate living in Chicago.
She could have
settled comfortably
into a middle class life; instead she opened a settlement
house that prodded our country to address the downsides
of industrial development: such as child labor and dangerous
working conditions, thereby earning an honorary degree
from
Smith College. Fifty years ago, Smith granted
another honorary degree, this time to a woman named Rachel
Carson for her
brilliant writing
about the sea. Ms. Carson could have been content with that;
instead she used her talent to expose the dangers posed by
pesticides, sparking an environmental movement that has long
since gone global.
Thirty-eight years ago, Rosa
Parks could have done the expected thing and moved to the
back of the
bus in Montgomery, Alabama;
instead she stood her ground, and helped create the higher
ground of civil rights that has moved our nation closer to
its founding promise.
As I speak, Aung San Suu Kyi
could be living a life of ease and renown anywhere in the
world except
the one place in
the world she truly belongs, fighting in Burma for the freedom
of her people against a brutal police state.
There are many
more models I could cite, from Susan B. Anthony and Sojourner
Truth to the heroines of our own day in the
arts and professions, business and public life. There are
also countless women from cultures across the globe who have
lived lives rich in love and accomplishment but whose names
we do not know because they were or did not care to be famous.
Their examples, too, I invite you to consider.
When we are
very young, we do not acknowledge there are limits to what
we may someday do. This is human nature, especially
in America. When we get older, we realize that not every
dream is possible. But we also learn that the investment
of energy, the gaining of experience, and the application
of knowledge is empowering.
One day, you look around and
realize there are things you can do that others cannot. All
of a sudden, you are looked
to for leadership. All of a sudden, you realize that you
really can make a difference if only you have the courage
to do it.
Among those receiving degrees
today, I sense a bountiful mixture of energy, intelligence
and courage. So I am optimistic
that individually and collectively you will become a mighty
and positive force. Perhaps one of you will compose a poem
that inspires the mind; another a song that engenders love;
a third a novel casting light upon the mysteries of life;
while the fourth writes a play so sophisticated it can only
be understood by someone who is a genius or French.
Perhaps
one of you will develop a new foreign policy doctrine that
spells out America’s appropriate global role --
somewhere between an isolationism shunning the problems of
the world, and a neo-imperialism scaring the dickens out
of friends and foes alike. Perhaps one of you will make history
by serving as President of the United States or by doing
what is so obviously beyond the power of any male, and managing
the Boston Red Sox to their first world championship since
1918.
I have tried today to speak
with a light touch, but I do not mean to understate or in
any way make light of the
seriousness
of the work that is crying out to be done on this planet. I
am incredibly proud of America. I believe in the goodness
of our power, and in the uplifting power of our ideals.
No nation has done more to aid others around the globe. But
I also believe we could do better.
Decade by decade, we
have shared less and less of our wealth. Today, among industrialized
countries, our government ranks
dead last in the percentage of our giving.
Nothing bothered
me more when I was Secretary of State than the lack of resources
we were prepared to invest in human
development. I was supposed to be the world’s most
powerful woman, and yet when I saw girls and boys in refugee
camps who had survived exploitation and war I was all too
often unable to promise them hope. When I saw courageous
women coming together across cultural lines to prevent renewed
genocide in Africa, I was unable to guarantee help. When
I saw mothers dying of AIDS, I was unable to assure care
for the infants they were leaving behind. When I saw children
who had lost an arm or a leg to a land mine, I was unable
to say with certainty that the same thing would not happen
to their sisters and brothers.
Let us never forget as we enjoy
the privileges of living in this country that no human being
is dispensable. That
is true of the young and old, regardless of race, nationality
or gender. It is true of civilians and soldiers, apple-pickers
and CEOs. A human being is not some thing to be used and
thrown away once he or she has contributed on the front lines
or to the bottom line; no person is a means; every person
is an end, and the health and well-being of each and every
one of us should matter to each and every one of us. That’s
true in America at its best, and we should do all we can
to make it true around the world.
To those who graduate today,
let me say that I do not intend this afternoon to put the
weight of the world upon your shoulders,
for that will always be your parents’ job. But I do
hope that each of you will use the knowledge gained here
at this magnificent college to be more than a consumer of
liberty, but also a defender and an enricher of it, employing
your talents to heal, help and teach. I hope you will be
doers not drifters, and that you will choose to live life
boldly, with largeness of spirit and generosity of heart
-- and that you will encourage our leaders to do the same.
It is
said that all work that is worth doing is done in faith.
This afternoon, at this ceremony of celebration and anticipation,
I hope you will each embrace the faith that every challenge
surmounted by your energy; every problem solved by your wisdom;
every soul awakened by your passion; and every barrier to
justice brought down by your determination will ennoble your
own lives, inspire others, and explode outward the boundaries
of what is achievable on this earth.
To the Class of 2003,
I say again, “congratulations.” And
thank you once again for allowing me to share with you this
wonderful day. |
