N.B. Dakota State University President, José-Marie Griffiths, recently asked if I would deliver the university's December commencement address. José-Marie is a long-time friend and a former collaborator and colleague at UNC Chapel Hill. She and I also served together on the U.S. President's Information Technology Advisory Committee (PITAC). It was, as they say, a "no brainer" to gladly accept the invitation. I was also humbled to be recognized with an honorary doctorate.
In the past, I have offered advice on the art of giving commencement addresses. See, for example, my commentary in the Chronicle of Higher Education, Commencement Speakers: Be Cool. You can judge whether I honored my own advice. And yes, that is me at my own college graduation.
Reflections
Thank you, President Griffiths, for that kind and gracious introduction. It is both a pleasure and an honor to be here today.
I am very mindful of the cardinal rule of speaking to a captive and restive audience – be funny and be brief, and when lacking in humor, by all means, be brief.
In that spirit, let me begin with two simple questions. Why are we here today? What are we celebrating?
Outstanding achievement? Yes, of course! Anticipation for the future? Absolutely! Celebratory photographs with family and friends? That too!
Looking back on those photographs, you will marvel at the youth of everyone in the photo, your parents and yourself. Then you will shudder at your attire. Trust me on this. In my case, neither the plaid, polyester suit in my commencement photo, nor my long, curly hair, have stood the test of time. Especially my hair! My wife now leaves the engine running when I dash in to get a haircut.
Humor aside, we are here today to celebrate something extraordinary, something that defines our very humanity – the hopes of parents and the dreams of children – shaped by public education and the dedication of teachers and scholars.
The Dangers of Knowledge Loss
Let's go back, way back, to the beginning. Two great inventions – agriculture and writing – have defined our civilization. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that writing created history. For the first time, knowledge could accumulate and be passed from generation to generation by more than oral tradition.
Today, it seems inconceivable that accumulated knowledge and insight could be lost. Yet knowledge and learning have always been at risk, and that remains true today.
While the United States continues to disinvest in education and scholarship, other countries are increasing their investment. Why? Because they know their country's most precious asset is an educated citizenry. It is both the best defense of democracy and the powerful engine that drives a knowledge economy. We need to remember that too.
That history I mentioned earlier has something to teach us on this topic.
With the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, a thousand years of intellectual darkness fell across Europe. During that time, it was the Arab world that preserved and extended science and mathematics. Our word "algebra" is a Latin variant of an old Arabic word. In these days of global fear and strife, it's worth remembering that we are united by common intellectual history.
Here's another illustration of the dangers of intellectual loss, one near to my heart as an amateur astronomer. In 1902, archeologists discovered a curious and puzzling device in an ancient shipwreck near the Greek island of Antikythera. Over 2000 years old, it was a gear-driven analog computer of astonishing mechanical and intellectual complexity, capable of predicting planetary motions. It took over 1500 years – 60 generations – and the Renaissance – for European engineering skill and astronomical knowledge to equal and then exceed that of the ancient Greeks.
The recurring moral of these and countless other tales – when we waver in our commitment to the pursuit of knowledge, even for a moment, the consequences can be grave. Why? Because each of us – graduates, faculty, citizens, and parents -- is connected by a chain of discovery and creativity that stretches beyond the dawn of history.
An Idea Embodied in a Place
As graduates, your place in that chain is what we celebrate here today, as both beneficiaries of the past and stewards of the future. Though a few of you may feel burdened by student debt, you all leave here today intellectually wealthy beyond measure, having dipped deeply into the well of human knowledge.
The precious contents of that well are preserved, expanded, and shared by teachers and scholars at public universities like this one. As professors, the thrill of adding a small piece to the great mosaic of human knowledge is extraordinary. One can live a lifetime in the moment of insight. But any teacher will tell you that thrill is equaled by the joy of sharing one's knowledge with others.
From them, you learned to teach yourself new things – to solve complex, ill-defined problems. This perhaps the most important skill you take with you today.
As citizens, our support for institutions of learning is a defining attribute of our culture and our civilization. A great university is an idea embodied in a people and a place – connected to the past by knowledge and wisdom – and connected to the future by society's commitment to the dreams of our children.
The Hopes of Parents and the Dreams of Children
As parents, you know an ancient truth, one held deeply in every heart. Every child deserves a chance – a chance to live a life defined by the content of their character, the scope of their talent, the reach of their dreams, and their willingness to work.
If you remember nothing else I say today, remember this. All too often, the circumstances of birth limit the future, with opportunity crushed and children's' dreams stillborn. This is wrong.
On this, I speak from sad personal experience. I grew up in poverty. Too young, you learn some ugly lessons about not wishing for what can never be, about being hungry and cold.
Yet even among the poor, there is a hierarchy. Kathy, one of my grade school classmates, occupied the bottom rung. She was dressed in handed down, hand-me-downs – a sweater that had seen better days before she was born – and worn out shoes.
Kathy lived just up the hill. In the third grade, she and I sat in adjacent seats.
One day, our teacher told Kathy, "I will not grade your homework. You erase and reuse your paper." It was a casual reprimand; it was a life changing moment, for both of us.
I knew the painful truth. I had watched Kathy practice her multiplication tables in the winter cold, using the only flat writing surface she had – the unpainted siding of her weather-beaten house.
I watched Kathy's face, and I saw her shame. I saw the light fade in her eyes; I saw hope disappear. I knew, with childhood certainty, that there was sin in the classroom.
I see Kathy still, practicing her multiplication tables in the cold, the dying dream of a little girl.
Kathy was lost, but I was found. I was a poor, unknown boy from the Arkansas hills, the son of a father with a fifth-grade education. This country invested in me, as a scholarship boy. It was a gift and societal act of faith that still beggars my imagination. It is a debt I can never repay, for reality has exceeded my dreams.
I've preached this message the world over. Talent knows no social or economic boundaries. The nurtured dreams of our children are our most precious asset. When we sacrifice investment in their future in the name of expediency, our hands are red with the blood of children's dreams. Kathy's dreams.
Education pays bountiful dividends, pressed down, shaken together, and running over. It connects us to the past, and it is our bridge to the future. All of you are powerful witnesses to that enduring truth.
The hopes of parents and the dreams of children – that is what we celebrate here today.
Looking Forward
As graduates, you leave here empowered by a valuable education, facing a world awash in change. As your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man wryly noted, "With great power comes great responsibility."
Here is my advice.
Meet and engage people unlike yourself. Learn to see the world through their eyes. It is both humbling and illuminating. Dare to take some risks. Make new and original mistakes – life's more interesting that way. Be involved in issues that matter. Make a difference in the world. Do good things for others, especially when no one is watching.
Pay your blessings forward. Someday, you too will harbor the hopes of parents and nurture the dreams of children.
Finally, remember what I told you about commencement photographs. If you want to borrow a plaid, polyester jacket, I'll be here by the podium. You are on your own when it comes to hairstyle; I have none to spare.
Congratulations! Thank you!
Dr. Reed, this is an inspiring read and a great reminder about the power of education to transform lives and communities.
Thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Mark Nolte | December 19, 2017 at 07:49 AM