I will finally get back to posting on a semi-regular schedule soon. I promise. After I get my deadlines met. Which, by the way, at this time I’ll have them met in about . . . never.
Meanwhile I’ve been considering what time of year it is. No, not the beginning of summer or the signal that I can wear black socks and sandals. Rather, I’ve been considering graduation time. My niece and nephew both graduated from High School last week and I’ve been thinking about what a glorious, and frightening, time it was.
You’ve accomplished something. Hooray! Crap! Now what? Sure, there’s college and all that. But you suddenly realize that your parents can’t protect you anymore. You’re actually responsible for yourself. Just you. If you flunk out of college, it’s your fault. If you get a crappy job, it’s your fault. If you don’t pay your rent, it’s your fault.
Well hell, what am I so excited about then? Of course, you’ve been longing for independence for so long that you thought it would be a welcome sight. I’m free! You’re dying to say that. But then you think about credit cards, student loans, car repairs and ramen noodles.
So, today I thought I’d jump on the bandwagon and offer a commencement address for the class of 2003. (Appologies to Kurt Vonnegut.)
Class of 2003:
I look out here today at a group of young, eager faces ready to conquer the world. I see a group of people who have finally accomplished something they’ve been aiming for since they were five years old. That’s thirteen years. Most of us can’t keep our attention focused on something for thirteen years. But you did. You surmounted endless tests, studying, long weekends, peer pressure, class strata, teen pregnancies, drug addictions, car accidents, football games, humiliation and the SATs. And here you are.
Don’t let anyone tell you that you haven’t accomplished anything because you have. You never stopped. You didn’t give up. Sure, I know what some of you are thinking. Notall of us tried. Of course, there is the guy who snuck the bong into the boys’ bathroom and got wasted before the ceremony and there is the guy who thinks he’s cool because he’s only wearing underwear under his robe. We’ll forget those guys for the time being. We won’t have to worry about them until their court dates come up for negligence and driving under the influence.
Today is about you. And the fact that you survived this ordeal that we call childhood. And now you are officially adults. Some of you will go to college. Some of you will get jobs. Others will wander around Europe for a year thinking that you will build character somehow by living in hostels and riding the train from Luxombourg to Versailles.
You’re wrong. If you want to learn something while traveling, get a job on a Texas ranch or fighting fires in Oregon. Your thirst for knowledge should first be quenched by learning about the people and places in your own country. Go visit a Zuni elder in Arizona on your way to the shrine to Richard Feynman at Cal Tech. If you want real world experience, give your own countrymen a chance. I guarantee there are thousands of stories to hear on porches across this country. Better yet: You already speak the language and you enjoy the food. What an opportunity!
But I’m not here today to tell you about what adventures lay ahead. Rather, I have a request.
I know what sort of world you are inheriting. And thousands of people like to blame the people that came before. It’s always their fault isn’t it? Your stupid parents and the fat cat politicians they voted into office.
Forget that. We have to stop laying blame and find ways to fix the problems we have. Invest in real science, do away with superstition. Spend your time and money trying to find cures for diseases. Cancer, Diabetes, Heart Disease, Blindness. There are a thousand ways that nature tries to kill us. But these ways never allow us to be happy. Let nature kill us in ways that allow us to keep our dignity. Where we can go out happy, without having to ask someone to wipe up after us, or laying alone in a bed hallucinating. What kind of way is that to go?
But there is one disease that kills so many people. A disease that allows the flesh to survive, but the spirit to die. A disease that we’ve tried to cure with alcohol, marijuana, heroin, and a variety of FDA approved drugs and psychological treatments.
But there is only one cure to this ravaging disease.
The disease? Loneliness. The cure? Community.
As you grow, and as I’m sure you’ve already encountered, you’ll find that thousands of communities pop up around you. Groups of like-minded individuals who try to take care of each other. Groups organized around political beliefs, religion, race, sex, hobbies and more.
But these communities are weak communities. They are too single-celled and simple. They do not allow us ways to help one another using our skills. If you are in a group of men who get together because they are men, do you have the proper skills to help each other through any situation? Probably not. Why? Not enough diversity in skill and experience.
To you, the class of 2003, I say build communities. Don’t worry about building baseball stadiums or monuments to the dead. Work on erecting monuments to the living. Build communities of people who are carpenters, garbage men, stay at home parents, writers, executives, nurses, doctors, pilots, soldiers, bakers and candlestick makers. Build communities of the young, old and middle age mixed together. Allow the young to learn from the past of the old. Allow the strong to help out the weak, for someday the weak may be the strong. (Seems to me that someone once said something very similar but, alas we’ve forgotten. Or, perhaps we no longer know what “meek” means.)
Forget about like interests and beliefs. These are artificial constructs that we use to build walls around us. There must be a balance between important things and that means we must disagree at times.
It’s okay to argue as long as it goes somewhere.
So right now look around you. Look at these people who you’ve shared the last four years with. I’m sure you’ll see several people you’ve spent all thirteen years with, learning and growing. Look to your right and tell that person what you can offer. Tell them your skills and the way you can help. Someday they might need it. Now listen to what they have to say. Someday you might need it. File away that name, face and information. And when your phone rings asking for help, offer it gladly.
Tonight rather than spend your time drinking yourself into a frenzy in an attempt to stave of the fear and loneliness, go to your neighbors and offer some help. Tell old man Johnson that you’ll mow his lawn this weekend because you know his knees hurt.
Bring the family down the street that just had a baby a pre-made dinner because you know how tired they are. They’ll appreciate it.
But most of all go home and care about each other. Because, in the end we all fear loneliness. So let’s start fighting it off now.
Discuss
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