Katharine Stockrahm: I have never been one for using tired figurative phrases, especially
to open a speech as important to me as this one.
But, I have to say that blood, sweat, and tears went into getting this degree.
Now, the tears are easy.
If you were to look to the back of this center, I am sure you would see my mother shedding
plenty of them right now; enough for all the parents, faculty, and friends combined.
The sweat; well that comes from the brisk, run, walk between classes that start on Michigan
time, which despite my best efforts has never provided me the leeway to slow even to a weird
fast jog situation when scurrying from large hall to the Chem building.
But the blood, that comes from one of my first days of class when I fell off of my bike trying
to avoid an overzealous squirrel as it barreled across the sidewalk.
Yes, it was just as hilarious and stupid looking as it sounds.
My shriek and cartoonish flop under the pavement, the squirrel stopping to show again his intentional
evil and finish his acorn, and I struggled to regain my composure.
It was needless to say, incredibly embarrassing.
But, what happened after that unfortunate incident?
What happened the rest of that day is the purpose of my remarks this afternoon.
Other students after watching what could only be described as a comically atrocious fall
came hurrying over to help me up.
They didn’t laugh as they rightfully should have but pulled my bike off of me.
They asked me if I was all right, where I needed to be, if there was anything that they
could do.
I was shocked.
That squirrel was still glaring at me.
His Satan like eyes creepily expressive of his self-satisfaction but I was already being
escorted to the oddity that is the Mason, Tisch, Haven, Angell Hall conglomerates with
a new group of friends in tow.
When I arrived at class, my professor let me run to the bathroom to wash off my now
bleeding kneecaps, and another student offered me band-aids when I returned to the room.
It was as if this whole campus came together to right that demon squirrel’s wrong, and
I was the lucky benefactor of my peers’ generosity.
That monstrous rodent for all his intentional villainy indirectly marked the beginning of
an incredible journey here at the University of Michigan.
Aside from the squirrels, the campus also provides its students an abundance of opportunities.
We have interned across the country and researched across continents.
Some of us have won Big Ten championships in bowl games, others have held leadership
roles, volunteered in the community and been published.
We have done so much in our short time here.
The University has refused us the option of just passively participating, in class or
out, and although that ill-meaning squirrel thought he taught me a lesson that day, this
institution and the individuals within it have actually taught me so much more.
People always talk about the Michigan difference as if it could be defined simply by carefully
selected string of words.
I am here to say it's really a collection of experiences.
It's the tears of pride my mother is still pouring out in the back of this arena, it's
the sweat shed during the run-walk we did each day in the pursuit of one of the best
educations in the world.
It's the figurative blood we poured into our work, and the literal blood that our friends
wouldn't let us deal with alone.
My knees have since scarred over and that squirrel has hopefully since been hit by a
car.
But, what I learned that day has stayed with me the entirety of my experience here, and
will remain with me throughout my lifetime.
Thank you all for making my years at the University of Michigan as exceptional as they have been.
Thank you family and thank you faculty!
And to you, my classmates, to you my hundreds of friends, I wish each one of you the best
in your future plans.
May they treat you as well as Michigan has and be as squirrel-free as possible, thank
you!
[Applause]