应届毕业典礼独特三分钟英语演讲稿（通用33篇）
You’ve been very lucky, seriously, to study at a place that attracts some of the brightest minds in the world. And during your time here, MIT has extended his tradition of groundbreaking research and innovation. Most of you were here when LIGO proved that Einstein was right about gravitational waves, something that I – as a Johns Hopkins engineering graduate – claimed all along.
And just this spring, MIT scientists and astronomers helped to capture the first-ever image of a black hole.
Those really are incredible accomplishments at MIT. And they are especially incredible when you consider that the Wi-Fi barely works here.
For God’s sakes, how many PhDs did it take to plug in a router?
But really, all of you are a part of an amazing institution that has proven – time and time again – that human knowledge and achievement is limitless. In fact, this is the place that proved moonshots are worth taking.
50 years ago this month – or next month, I guess it is – the Apollo 11 lunar module touched down on the moon. It’s fair to say the crew never would have gotten there without MIT. And I don’t just mean that because Buzz Aldrin was class of ‘63 here, and took Richard Battin’s famous astrodynamics course. As Chairman Millard mentioned, the Apollo 11 literally got there thanks to its navigation and control systems that were designed right here at what is now the Draper Laboratory.
Successfully putting a man on the moon required solving so many complex problems. How to physically guide a spacecraft on a half-million-mile journey was arguably the biggest one, and your fellow alums and professors solved it by building a one-cubic-foot computer at the time when computers were giant machines that filled whole rooms.
The only reason those MIT engineers even tried to build that computer in the first place was that they had been asked to help do something that people thought was either impossible or unnecessary.
Going to the moon was not a popular idea back in the 1960s. And Congress didn’t want to pay for it. Imagine that – a Congress that didn’t want to invest in science. Go figure – that would never happen today.
What’s worse is that we come up with a lot of excuses for this behavior. We tell ourselves that we’re making decisions based on efficiency, on the balance sheet, on superior intelligence or unique talent and understanding. We tell ourselves it’s for the protection of our tribe or our trade. But by reducing decisions to these standards, we are forgetting about the empathy we are born with, about the trust others have put in us, and about the obligations to one another as human beings.
That is why culture is so important. Culture resists reduction and constantly reminds us of the beautiful complexities that humans are made of, both individually and collectively. The stories we tell; the music we make; the experiments and buildings we design. Everything that helps us to understand ourselves, to understand one another, to understand our environment – culture.
But, it’s not just the culture we learn about in textbooks or see in a museum. It’s the arts and sciences; all the different disciplines that ask us to try, to trust, and to build. It’s culture that inspires deep learning and curiosity, that makes us want to seek the universal principles that drive everything.
Today, everywhere I go – whenever I hear music effortlessly crossing a border or see an example of art transcending economic and political differences or witness scientists from dozens of countries collaborating – I am reminded how essential culture has always been, in every era, every tradition.
My visit to Casals’ house was a reminder to me that we must all try to use our power well. Because to not use our power is to abuse it.
To not speak, to remain silent in the face of uncertainty, in the face of the insecurity and massive changes that confront us today, that every one of us confronts every day of our lives – that is an abuse of power.
Let us remember: Every struggle for reform, innovation, or justice starts with a voice in the wilderness. A voice in the wilderness. Vox clamantis in deserto. You all know that.
So, as you go forward today, I’d just like to leave you with this one thought: You have, and always will have, more power than you know. Never abuse this power. Never abuse this power. It is a gift. Use it with great care and with great intention. Listen to the voices crying in the wilderness; become one of those voices, a voice for justice and for hope.
Remember, always, that you are a human being first. It’s a truth embedded in the very foundation of your liberal arts education. Practice your humanity daily. Practice that truth. Let it power your decisions, let it inspire your thoughts, and let it shape your ideals. Then you will soar. You will fly. And you will help others soar and fly.
To do it, we will defeat in the courts the EPA’s attempt to roll back regulations that reduce carbon pollution and protect our air and water. But most of our battles will take place outside of Washington. We’re going to take the fight to the cities, and states – and directly to the people. And the fight will take place on four main fronts.
First, we will push states and utilities to phase out every last U.S. coal-fired power plant by 2030 – just 11 years from now. Politicians keep making promises about climate change mitigation by the year 2050 – hypocritically, after they’re long gone and no one can hold them accountable. Meanwhile, the science keeps moving the possible inflection point of irreversible global warming closer and closer. We have to set goals for the near term – and we have to hold our elected officials accountable for meeting them.
As I was preparing these remarks, I realized that when I was first elected President, most of you – the Class of 20xx – were just starting high school. Today, you’re graduating at college. I used to joke about being old. Now I realize I’m old. (Laughter.) It’s not a joke anymore. (Laughter.)
But seeing all of you here gives me some perspective. It makes me reflect on the changes that I’ve seen over my own lifetime. So let me begin with what may sound like a controversial statement – a hot take.
Given the current state of our political rhetoric and debate, let me say something that may be controversial, and that is this: America is a better place today than it was when I graduated from college. (Applause.) Let me repeat: America is by almost every measure better than it was when I graduated from college. It also happens to be better off than when I took office – (laughter) – but that’s a longer story. (Applause.) That’s a different discussion for another speech.
But think about it. I graduated in 1983. New York City, America’s largest city, where I lived at the time, had endured a decade marked by crime and deterioration and near bankruptcy. And many cities were in similar shape. Our nation had gone through years of economic stagnation, the stranglehold of foreign oil, a recession where unemployment nearly scraped 11 percent. The auto industry was getting its clock cleaned by foreign competition. And don’t even get me started on the clothes and the hairstyles. I’ve tried to eliminate all photos of me from this period. I thought I looked good. (Laughter.) I was wrong.
I would like to leave you now by playing one song. It’s called…it’s called the “Song of the Birds” – Pablo Casals’ favorite folk song from his beloved Catalonia. A love song to nature and humanity, a song about freedom, about the freedom of birds when they take flight, soaring across borders.
And I would like to dedicate this piece to you, Class of 20xx, with, once again, my heartiest congratulations.Graduates at universities and colleges around the United States are wrapping up the academic year, preparing to face a new era of life. As part of that tradition, celebrities, politicians, athletes, CEOs and artists are offering a range of life advice in commencement addresses.
Here is the commencement speech by Oprah Winfrey at Colorado College in 20xx.
In it, she tells college graduates in Colorado small steps lead to big accomplishments.
Winfrey quoted black activist Angela Davis, who said: "You have to act as if it were possible to radically change the world. And you have to do it all the time."
Winfrey says change doesn't happen with big breakthroughs so much as day-to-day decisions.
The television personality and philanthropist once gave away a car to everybody in the audience on her show. Winfrey didn't give the college graduates cars but copies of her book, "The Path Made Clear."
She told them to expect failure in life but know that everything will be OK.
Question three:
As you heard a moment ago, the second person to walk on the moon was Buzz Aldrin. Buzz was the first astronaut to have a doctoral degree, and he earned it from the school that has produced more astronauts than any nonmilitary institution. In fact, of the 12 humans who have walked on the moon, four graduated from that same institution, which is known by just three letters.
MIT.
You are great. I knew you could do it. “The beaver has landed!” Mrs. Reif, I believe they are ready.
As you…as you prepare for liftoff, I’d like to use the Apollo story to reflect on a few larger lessons we hope you learned at MIT because the spirit of that magnificent human project speaks to this community’s deepest values and its highest aspirations.
The first lesson is the power of interdisciplinary teams. We live in a culture that loves to single out heroes. We love to crown superstars.
As graduates of MIT, however, I expect you’re already skeptical of stories of scientific triumph that have only one hero. You know by now that if you want to do something big, like detect gravitational waves in outer space or decode the human genome, or tackle climate change, or finish an 8.01 pset before sunrise, you cannot do it without a team.
As Margaret Hamilton herself would be quick to explain, by 1968, the MIT Instrumentation Laboratory had 600 people working on the moon-landing software. At its peak, the MIT hardware team was 400. And from Virginia to Texas, NASA engaged thousands more. In short, she was one star in a tremendous constellation of talent. And together – together – those stars created something impossible for any one of them to create alone.
I realized this during the struggle of my life trying to build a network at the same time as running a show. I did not have the right leadership, and everything is about having the right people around you to support you. All of my mistakes were in the media—I can’t do anything privately. So when everything is about struggle-struggle, I had to say: What is this about? What is this here to show you? That is now my favorite question in crisis: What is this here to teach you or show you?
Jack Canfield in Chicken Soup for the Soul says “The greatest wound we’ve all experienced is being rejected for being our authentic self. And then we try to be what we’re not to get approval, love, acceptance, money...but the real need for all of us is to reconnect with the essence of who we really are…we all go around hiding parts of ourselves." He said he was with a Buddhist teacher years ago who said, “Here’s the secret: If you were to meditate for 20 years, here’s where you’d finally get to: Just be yourself, but be all of you.”
I’ve made a living—not a living but a real life—by being myself, using the energy of myself to serve the purpose of my soul. That purpose, I’m here to tell you, gets revealed to you daily. It is the thread that’s connecting the dots of who you are.
I’ve made a living—not a living but a real life—by being myself.
I’ve yet to meet anyone who thinks that this world that we live in is perfect. This is not a political statement. It’s equally true of liberals and conservatives, Democrats and Republicans. And if you don’t think the world that we live in is perfect, the only way it gets better is if good people work to repair it. Our students, our faculty, our staff and alumni are doing that daily, and it makes me so proud.
This year, I had the privilege to meet, and be moved by, not just one but two of the nation’s preeminent poets – the United States Youth Poet Laureate, our own Amanda Gorman, and the United States Poet Laureate, our own Tracy K. Smith. I’ve also had the chance to marvel at artists who every day breathe life into our campus with their performances and their creative work – it’s amazing to see the talent that is represented on this campus and among our alumni, our faculty, and staff.
And every day, I’ve learned more about the remarkable efforts of our faculty to improve the world:
Alison Simmons and Barbara Grosz were [are] making sure that the next generation of computer scientists is prepared to address the ethical questions posed by the development of new digital technologies;
Ali Malkawi and his HouseZero, which is demonstrating the possibilities of ultra-efficient design and new building technology to respond to the threat of climate change;
In my inaugural address, I remarked that just 60 years earlier, my father might not have been served in a D.C. restaurant – at least not certain of them. There were no black CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. Very few black judges. Shoot, as Larry Wilmore pointed out last week, a lot of folks didn’t even think blacks had the tools to be a quarterback. Today, former Bull Michael Jordan isn’t just the greatest basketball player of all time – he owns the team. (Laughter.) When I was graduating, the main black hero on TV was Mr. T. (Laughter.) Rap and hip hop were counterculture, underground. Now, Shonda Rhimes owns Thursday night, and Beyoncé runs the world. (Laughter.) We’re no longer only entertainers, we’re producers, studio executives. No longer small business owners – we’re CEOs, we’re mayors, representatives, Presidents of the United States. (Applause.)
Noe, I am not saying gaps do not persist. Obviously, they do. Racism persists. Inequality persists. Don’t worry – I’m going to get to that. But I wanted to start, Class of 20xx, by opening your eyes to the moment that you are in. If you had to choose one moment in history in which you could be born, and you didn’t know ahead of time who you were going to be – what nationality, what gender, what race, whether you’d be rich or poor, gay or straight, what faith you’d be born into – you wouldn’t choose 100 years ago. You wouldn’t choose the fifties, or the sixties, or the seventies. You’d choose right now. If you had to choose a time to be, in the words of Lorraine Hansberry, “young, gifted, and black” in America, you would choose right now. (Applause.)
Here we are again. My favorite moment of the year. It’s a genuine day of dreams: in the student section, dreams of new careers, marriage, children, new adventures. In the parents’ seating, dreams of what to do with that disposable income they’re no longer sending to West Lafayette. All in all, a day like no other.
My own dreams about today sometimes are more like nightmares. What to say that’s fitting – that’s meaningful but still concise enough to get us on to the main event quickly? Hardest of all, what to say that’s the least bit original?
While dreaming, or daydreaming, about today, I found myself thinking about Purdue Pete. Again, this year, Pete was ranked among the most identified college mascots in the country, and the favorite in our Big Ten Conference.
A few years before your class arrived on campus, someone tried to redo Pete and turn him into some new symbol of our school. I wasn’t here, either, but as told to me, the idea started an immediate backlash, a near-riot, and died within days. I got to thinking about “why?”
Maybe part of it was his uniqueness. At my last count, there were 64 Eagles, 46 Tigers, and 33 Wildcats among college mascots. But there’s only one set of Boilermakers.
But I think our attachment to Pete stems mainly from the way he personifies our self-image of strength. When our up-and-coming football program chose its slogan for this year, it was “Only the Strong.” One of the year’s YouTube sensations featured a five-foot-nine Purdue player squatting 600 pounds.
Don’t be frightened! When a Bennington student, 10 minutes before you come up to the podium hands you a mace, that he made,
If you don’t bring it to the podium with you, you will never be Bennington.
So I would like to thank you Ben for helping me put the fear of God in the audience tonight. But I have to put it down because I’m an actor, and I am really weak. That was heavy! It wasn’t like a prop. That shit was real!
Thanks Ben.
So now I’m going to read. And I’m not off book. So I might be looking down a lot.
Thank you, President Coleman, Brian Conover, faculty, students, family, alumni, some of whom are dear friends of mine who have travelled all the way from the big city to see me hopefully not humiliate myself tonight.
And especially thanks to you, the Graduating Class of 20xx.
See, as a joke I wrote, hold for applause, and I was actually going to read that. So you kind of killed my joke!
Think about what’s at stake. Everything you write, everything you say, every topic of curiosity, every stray thought, every impulsive purchase, every moment of frustration or weakness, every gripe or complaint, every secret shared in confidence.
In a world without digital privacy, even if you have done nothing wrong other than think differently, you begin to censor yourself. Not entirely at first. Just a little, bit by bit. To risk less, to hope less, to imagine less, to dare less, to create less, to try less, to talk less, to think less. The chilling effect of digital surveillance is profound, and it touches everything.
What a small, unimaginative world we would end up with. Not entirely at first. Just a little, bit by bit. Ironically, it’s the kind of environment that would have stopped Silicon Valley before it had even gotten started.
We deserve better. You deserve better.
If we believe that freedom means an environment where great ideas can take root, where they can grow and be nurtured without fear of irrational restrictions or burdens, then it’s our duty to change course, because your generation ought to have the same freedom to shape the future as the generation that came before.
Graduates, at the very least, learn from these mistakes. If you want to take credit, first, learn to take responsibility.
The television execs fired Oprah said she was unfit for TV but she kept going. Critics told Beyoncé that she couldn't sing she went through depression. But she kept going.Struggle and criticisms are prerequisites for greatness. That is the law of this universe and no one escapes it. Because pain is life but you can choose what type? Either the pain on the road to success or the pain of being haunted with regret.You want my advice? Don't think twice.We have been given a gift that we call life. So don’t blow it. You’re not defined by your past instead you were born anew in each moment. So own it now.Sometimes you've got to leap. And grow your wings on the way down. You better get the shot off before the clock runs out because there is ain't no over time in life, no do over. And I know what sound like I'm preaching on speaking with force but if you don't use your gift then you sell not only yourself, but the whole world. Sure.
They wanted Stanford’s faculty, students, and staff to pursue knowledge and excellence not just as ends in themselves, but for the sake of humanity and the world.
I’ve often wondered what motivated the Stanfords to place this greater purpose at the heart of our university.
I think I got a clue recently, when, in January, I visited the Stanford Family Collection at the Cantor Arts Center.
Jane and Leland Stanford were some of the most influential citizens of California in the late 19th century, and the Cantor holds a number of artifacts relating to their lives. The collection also includes some childhood journals that belonged to their son, Leland Stanford Jr.
Reading these journals was, to me, a revelation. They are a record of Leland Junior’s childhood studies and interests: from arithmetic practice to sketches and photography.
But what truly leaps from the pages is Leland Junior’s extraordinary curiosity.
He was learning and absorbing everything he could about the world. Though he was just in his early teens, he had ambitions in anthropology and history and art. And he was fascinated by other cultures.
He spent his time studying and reflecting on contemporary and historical objects – from fossils to armor, to buildings and monuments, to the ruins of ancient temples.
At other places, but I’m happy to say not yet at Purdue, students have demanded to be kept, quote, “safe” from speech, that is, mere words, that challenge or discomfit them. At one large university, one, quote, “study”, I enclose it in quotes, purported to find a quarter of the student body suffering from PTSD because of an election outcome. Referring to such young people, someone has coined the distasteful but descriptive term “snowflakes.”
Some find a cause in the social media, which have reduced personal interaction among your younger contemporaries. Easier grading in high schools can lead to an unexpected jolt when a student arrives at college, at least if it’s a place like Purdue where top grades are still hard to come by. Another diagnosis points to overprotective parenting that limits some children’s opportunities to play and explore in unsupervised ways that require them to solve problems and resolve conflicts on their own.
It is not death most people are afraid of.It is getting to the end of life, only to realize that you never truly lived.There was a study done, a hospital study on 100 elderly people facing death close to their last breath. They were asked to reflect about their life’s biggest regret. Nearly all of them said they regretted not the things they did but the things they didn't do.The risks they never took the dreams they didn’t pursue.I ask you would your last words be; if only I had – hey, you wake up.Why do you exist? Life is not meant to simply work, wait for the weekend and pay rent. No, no I don’t know much. But I know this: every person on this earth has a gift.And I apologized to the black community but I can no longer pretend Martin Luther King. That man never had a dream, that dream had him. See people don't choose dreams, dreams choose them. So the question I’m getting to is, do you have the courage to grab the dream that picked you? That befit you and grips you; or will you let it get away and slip through?
Taken together, these four elements of Beyond Carbon will be the largest coordinated assault on the climate crisis that our country has ever undertaken.
Thank you. We will work to empower and expand the volunteers and activists fighting these battles community by community, state by state. It’s a process that our foundation and I have proved can succeed. After all, this isn’t the first time we’ve done an end run around Washington.
A decade ago, no one would have believed that we could take on the coal industry and close half of all U.S. plants, but we have.
A decade ago, no one would have believed we could take on the NRA and pass stronger gun safety laws in states like Florida, Colorado, and Nevada, but we have.
Two decades ago, no one would have believed that we could take on the tobacco industry and spread New York City’s smoking ban to most of America and to countries around the world, but we have.
And now, we will take on the fossil fuel industry to accelerate the transition to a clean energy economy. I believe we will succeed again – but only if one thing happens, and that is: you have to help lead the way by raising your voices, by joining an advocacy group, by knocking on doors, by calling your elected officials, by voting, and getting your friends and family to join you.
Back in the 1960s, when scientists here at MIT were racing to the moon, there was a populist saying that went: if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem. Today, Washington is a very, very big part of the problem.
I have met faculty across our schools who are expanding religious literacy; who are exploring the role of the arts in promoting justice; who are confronting the opioid epidemic from every angle; who are working to make state and local government more effective. Their work is nothing short of inspiring.
And I’ve come to know our students – absolutely amazing students. To the parents who are here, thank you, thank you for sending these remarkable young people to us. They are nothing short of inspiring. Interacting with them is one of the great privileges of living and working on a college campus. Adele and I have had dinner with them in the Houses. We’ve watched them perform on the stage and on the playing fields. I’ve met with them during office hours and talked to them as I’ve gone running with them. If you spend time with our students, you cannot help but feel optimistic about our future.
This past week, I had lunch with thirty graduating seniors. It was wonderful to hear how they think they have changed and matured during their four years here. I actually asked them how is your current self different from your 18-year-old self that arrived here on campus, and the stories were marvelous. And I’ve witnessed this process of transformation myself.
I helped to advise three of our incoming first-year undergraduates this year, and they helped me experience and understand Harvard through their eyes. To Andrew, Claire, and Karen, thank you for sharing your first year for [with] me and for teaching me so well.
Members of the Class of 20xx, Stanford faculty and staff, former and current trustees of our university, government officials, distinguished guests, and cherished family members and friends:
I thank you for joining us on this very special day to celebrate Stanford’s 128th Commencement. It’s my great honor to warmly welcome all of you.
To all those who are receiving degrees today, I offer a very special welcome:
Our senior class members and our graduate students – congratulations to each and every one of you. Today, we celebrate your accomplishments during your time at Stanford, and we look ahead with anticipation that everything you will do next.
Now we gather this weekend in joy and celebration. But as we do, we are also thinking of those in our community who have left us this year – including, tragically, within the last few days.
The loss of any member of our Stanford community is a loss to all of us.
And so, as we begin this morning’s program, I’d like us to take a moment to acknowledge their passing and to reflect on how they have enriched our lives.
Please join me in a moment of silence.
Thank you.
I'm here to tell you that your life isn’t some big break, like everybody tells you that is. It’s about taking one big life transforming step at a time.
You can pick a problem, any problem—the list is long. There’s gun violence, and inequality, and media bias...and the dreamers need protection...the prison system needs to be reformed, misogyny needs to stop. But the truth is you cannot fix everything. What you can do here and now is make a decision, because life is about decisions—and the decision that you can make is to use your life in service. You will be in service to life, and you will speak up, you will show up, you will stand up, you will volunteer, you will shout out, you will radically transform whatever moment you’re in, which will lead to bigger moments.
having a view on these great men in the history of hunmanbeing,they all made full use of their youth time ,to do things that are useful to society,to the whole mankind,and as a cosquence ,they are remembered by later generations,admired by everyone.so do something in the time of young,although you may not get achievements as these greatmen did ,though not for the whole word,just for youeself,for those around!the young is just like blooming flowers,they are so beautiful when blooming,they make people feel happy,but with time passing by,after they withers ,moet people think they are ugly.and so it is the same with young,we are enthusiastic when we are young,then we may lose our passion when getting older and older.
Embracing otherness. When I first heard this theme, I thought, well, embracing otherness is embracing myself. And the journey to that place of understanding and acceptance has been an interesting one for me, and it's given me an insight into the whole notion of self, which I think is worth sharing with you today.We each have a self, but I don't think that we're born with one.You know how newborn babies believe they're part of everything; they're not separate? Well that fundamental sense of oneness is lost on us very quickly. It's like that initial stage is over -- oneness: infancy, unformed, primitive. It's no longer valid or real. What is real is separateness, and at some point in early babyhood, the idea of self starts to form.
Here’s my corollary: “Your mentors may leave you prepared, but they can’t leave you ready.”
When Steve got sick, I had hardwired my thinking to the belief that he would get better. I not only thought he would hold on, I was convinced, down to my core, that he’d still be guiding Apple long after I, myself, was gone.
Then, one day, he called me over to his house and told me that it wasn’t going to be that way.
Even then, I was convinced he would stay on as chairman. That he’d step back from the day to day but always be there as a sounding board.
But there was no reason to believe that. I never should have thought it. The facts were all there.
And when he was gone, truly gone, I learned the real, visceral difference between preparation and readiness.
It was the loneliest I’ve ever felt in my life. By an order of magnitude. It was one of those moments where you can be surrounded by people, yet you don’t really see, hear or feel them. But I could sense their expectations.
When the dust settled, all I knew was that I was going to have to be the best version of myself that I could be.
I knew that if you got out of bed every morning and set your watch by what other people expect or demand, it’ll drive you crazy.
So what was true then is true now. Don’t waste your time living someone else’s life. Don’t try to emulate the people who came before you to the exclusion of everything else, contorting into a shape that doesn’t fit.
It takes too much mental effort – effort that should be dedicated to creating and building. You’ll waste precious time trying to rewire your every thought, and, in the meantime, you won’t be fooling anybody.
Graduates, the fact is, when your time comes, and it will, you’ll never be ready.
I am honoured to be at the Royal Hospital today as your reviewing officer once again, on this the 75th Anniversary of D-Day.
Not only is today a prominent historical occasion, it is also a special day in the Royal Hospital calendar – bringing together families, old friends and the chance to make new ones.
Both your founder King Charles II, and Sir Christopher Wren himself would be delighted to know that the institution which opened its doors to the first Pensioners over 325 years ago, continues to fulfil its original purpose of giving exceptional care to soldiers in retirement.
They’d also be amused to hear about the late-night cricket in the hallways! Much less the serenading by Colin, who I am told is Royal Variety standard, but let’s assume they haven’t seen your synchronised buggy drill quite yet!
Now I stand here before you to not only acknowledge the incredible contribution you have made to this nation, but to acknowledge that you, my friends, are also seriously good fun to be around!
For every person I’ve named, for every example I’ve cited, there are thousands of other Harvard citizens – students and alumni, faculty and staff – who are making the world better in more ways than we could possibly imagine. That is the power of this institution – not its brand, not our buildings, not our pomp and circumstance (as wonderful and terrific as that is). This University, Harvard, is its people – their aspirations, their achievements – their diversity of background, experience and thought – their desire to see beyond themselves and their devotion to serving others.
So, yes, I am an optimist. I’m an optimist because I live and work among all of you – because I see what you can do and because I know the boundless potential of what you can do. May we look to one another for inspiration in the years to come. May the expectations placed on us be exceeded only by our ability to meet them. And may Harvard continue to be a wellspring of hope for the world. It’s an honor to serve you as your president.
Congratulations to our newest alumni – and thank you to all.
Instead of challenging Americans to believe in our ability to master the universe, as President Kennedy did, the current administration is pandering to the skeptics who, in the 1960s, looked at the space program and only saw short-term costs and long-term benefits.
President Kennedy’s era earned the nickname, ‘The Greatest Generation’ – not only because they persevered through the Great Depression and won the Second World War. They earned it because of determination to rise, to pioneer, to innovate, and to fulfill the promise of American freedom.
They dreamed in moonshots. They reached for the stars. And they began to redeem – through the Civil Rights Movement – the failures of the past. They set the standard for leadership and service to our nation’s ideals.
Now, your generation has the opportunity to join them in the history books. The challenge that lies before you – stopping climate change – is unlike any other ever faced by humankind. The stakes could not be higher.
If left unchecked, the climate change crisis threatens to destroy oceanic life that feeds so many people on this planet. It threatens to breed war by spreading drought and hunger. It threatens to sink coastal communities, devastate farms and businesses, and spread disease.
If any one of you has doubts about your own creative capacity, think again. Over these last four years, you’ve designed – with the help of our faculty, staff, and those around you – the greatest masterpiece of all: yourself.
Class of 20xx, I have every confidence that you will let your creativity reign as you seek to impact the world and become every bit the person you wish to be.
Congratulations, once more, to all of you! May you meet with success and happiness always, and forever keep Dartmouth close to your hearts. Congratulations.
I’d like to offer my best wishes to my fellow honorands; to the staff and faculty of the College; to the parents and families of the graduates, who have supported and guided them through all these years; and to all the graduates – this is your day! Congratulations!
You have not only completed four memorable years, you even made it, in whatever state you’re in, to commencement!
I could begin by telling you you’re special, but I suspect your families have already told you that. I could tell you that you’re smart, but I’m certain your professors have already told you that, too. That you’re accomplished is without question – just look at where you’re sitting today!
Sasha Kill Ewald, who’s revealing how marriage and parenthood affects wages, and helping us understand why economic inequality persists across generations – and also how we might break the cycle of poverty.
I’ve also come to know about the work…
Of Conor Walsh, who’s helping people with neurodegenerative and neuromuscular diseases walk again with soft exosuits that use the latest robotic technology to help improve movement;
Of Sara Bleich, who’s helping to address the obesity epidemic by considering how changes in public policy can reduce consumption of high-calorie foods and soft drinks;
Of Tony Jack, who’s changing how colleges think about supporting disadvantaged students and improving their prospects not just in college but throughout life;
Of Arlene Sharpe and Gordon Freeman, who are giving hope to cancer patients by harnessing the body’s own immune system to treat disease;
Of Xiaowei Zhuang, whose super-resolution imaging is enabling scientists to look inside cells with unprecedented clarity and see how molecules function and interact;
Of Andrew Crespo, who’s culled massive amounts of data from our trial courts to change how we think about our system of criminal justice – and how we might actually improve it.
Two weeks ago, I was in Spain. I made a pilgrimage to visit the home of one my great heroes, the Catalan cellist Pablo Casals. He was 97 years old when I was a freshman in college. He had lived through World War I, the Spanish Civil War, World War II.
I was so lucky to have played for him when I was 7 years old. He said I was talented. His advice to me then: Make sure you have time to play baseball.
And I’ll let you imagine how that might have worked out.
But in reality, that wise counsel, “to make time for baseball,” was a profound reflection of the philosophy that motivated his life. Casals always thought of himself as a human being first, as a musician second, and only then a cellist. It’s a philosophy that I’ve held close to my heart for most of my own life.
Now, I had always known Casals as a great advocate for human dignity. But standing in his home two weeks ago, I understood what it meant for him to live that philosophy, what it meant for him to be a human being first. I began to understand just a few of the thousands of actions he took every day, every month. Each was in the service of his fellow human beings.
I saw letters of protest he wrote to newspapers from London to Tokyo. I saw meticulous, handwritten accounts of his enormous financial contributions to countless refugees fleeing the carnage of the Spanish Civil War – evidence of a powerful, humanistic life.
we have to be part of a solution through political activism that puts the screws to our elected officials. Let me reiterate, this has gone from a scientific challenge to a political one. And it’s time for all of us to recognize that climate change is the challenge of our time.
As President Kennedy said 57 years ago on the moon mission, “we are willing to accept this challenge, we are unwilling to postpone it, and we intend to win it.” We must again do what is hard. Dammit, I meant to say hard.
Graduates, we need your minds and your creativity to achieve a clean energy future. But that’s not all. We need your voices. We need your votes. And we need you to help lead us where Washington will not. It may be a moonshot, but it’s the only shot we’ve got.
As you leave this campus, I hope you will carry with you the MIT’s tradition of taking – and making – moonshots. Be ambitious in every facet of your life. And don’t ever let something stop you because people say it’s impossible. Let those words inspire you. Because just as trying to make the impossible possible can lead to achievements you’ve never dreamed of. And sometimes, you actually do land on the moon.
Now, to the Class of 20xx: I want to express just how proud we are of all that you have accomplished during your time at Stanford, and of all the hard work that brought you to this stadium this morning.
Today, we will award 1,792 bachelor’s degrees, 2,389 master’s degrees, and 1,038 doctoral degrees.
For those students who are receiving bachelor’s degrees:
· 313 will graduate with departmental honors and 301 with university distinction.
· 106 have satisfied the requirements of more than one major and 33 are graduating with dual bachelor’s degrees.
· 451 of our seniors completed minors and 201 will graduate with both a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree.
As Stanford is proud to enroll students from all around the globe, many of our international students will receive their degrees today as well:
162 members of our undergraduate class hail from 55 countries and 79 countries are represented by the 1,077 international students who will receive their master’s and doctoral degrees.
Now, all the numbers I have cited illustrate the tremendous accomplishments of Stanford’s graduates and their potential to have a positive impact on our world.
Graduates, during your time at Stanford, our faculty and staff have dedicated themselves to nurturing that potential in each of you. And I want to take this moment to thank them for their ongoing support and encouragement.