Now, that is just a glimpse of the diversity engagement that
characterizes our class. My name is Elizabeth Woo, and I studied economics
and biology in the college and lived in Tufts house before serving
as the RA for Stony Island.
And as part of the graduating class, I can only stand and admire at the
talent, passion and creativity of my peers. And, so, I'm incredibly excited to introduce
our next three speakers who will share what their four years here have
meant to them. Our first speaker will be Adolfo Alexander,
Vincent Alex Morales. Alex is a theater performance studies and psychology
double major. He hails from Mooresville, North Carolina. And as a
theater performance studies major, Alex has been active in university
theater and has curated theater 24, where teams of student writers, directors,
designers and actors have 24 hours to create a stage experience.
At the same time, Alex has been active in House life, participating in
intramural sports and is your served in a leadership position. Please
welcome to the podium, Alex. [Applause.]
>>> Alex: It's a packed house. When I first heard that the university
was getting graduated, I couldn't believe it. I was really touched when
the University of Chicago asked me to be its best man and then I realized
I had to write a best man speech. And, yes, we've been best friends
forever, but at least since we went to school together. But speeches are
very difficult. I don't think I could get away with making fun of the
university for still being in its gothic phase or how it pronounces try
trimasters as quarters. But the university could find someone like all
of you, I mean taken holistically, you are everything the university
could want. And, you know, most people meet online these days so there's
no shame in using Tinder or any common app. And here you are. Smart.
Intrepid. Curious. You know where Waldo is. [Laughter]
You've known each other for years now, and it's obvious that you guys
have something special. It's no secret that the university has been
graduated before. And we all thought that the 529th time would be the last.
But I am confident this will be the last graduation for the University
of Chicago. It's great that they finally found that special
one -- thousand people. I remember the first time I met the university
and its soon-to-be graduates. They showed me how deep their empathy
really ran. Allow me to set the scene.
It was during the polar vortex. During Chiberia, during what I could only
assume was due to the death of Aslan the lion. It was so cold that the fire
alarm went off in my dorm. Yeah, they work both ways.
[Laughter] It was 6 in the morning on the first day of
winter quarter. We all dressed, slowly, groggily. We went outside.
One of the people in my house thought that there actually was a fire
and they ran outside in just their robe.
It was -40 degrees. Immediately instinctively and without thinking,
everyone in my house surged around them like penguins might to
make sure that they would be okay in the cold.
That's when I knew that the university was head over Ivy for these
people, who all chose to go to school here in this frozen hell scape.
I often wonder what sort of person came to the literal swamp that is
Chicago and said: Ah, yes, here is where I will found my city.
I often wonder what sort of students came to this aforementioned frozen
hell scape and said, Ah, yes, here is where I will go to school.
I have since realized that it is the type of person who will huddle
around someone when they aren't dressed for the cold. This type of
person would come to a cold gothic place to learn about what they care
about because they all have that same fierce fire of determination,
caring and curiosity burning inside of them. And when nothing else, and I mean quite literally
nothing else will keep you warm because it is colder at school
than it is on the planet Mars, that fire will burn inside of you and
keep you warm. As you go forth after this graduation, take
this chance to play Prometheus. Bring that fire with you to everyone
and everything you encounter.
Shield others from the cold. Keep your curiosity. Keep your determination.
Keep a tab on that Waldo character.
Everything after this is easy. And hopefully warmer.
So, I would like to propose a toast to the University of Chicago and
its soon-to-be graduates. May this be only the start of your many years
of happiness. [Applause.]
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE] Thank you.
>>> Thank you, Alex. Our second speaker today is Karen pay to to know.
Karen is an English language and literature major, and she calls
Chandler, Arizona home. On campus, Karen has been involved in with
the Chicago Maroon, our school newspaper, as a staff photographer. She was
also a documentary filmmaker and a producer for fire scape films.
When she is not busy making films or taking pictures, Karen is also
involved in her house, Wendt House, as a social chairperson. Please
welcome to the podium, Karen. [Applause.]
>>> Karen: Hi. Let me start out with a confession. I am a fifth year.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE] You weren't expecting that.
She doesn't even go here. I know. Yes, I am that unicorn.
And I'm an odyssey scholar, so I have the wrong class T-shirt and I
have too many loans to pay for the right one. Let's review, shall we?
First year. You're not that bright. You play broom ball. You use a lot
of synonyms in your essays. But you realize there is no synonym forbad
argument. Second year. You're hoping you learn the material
by osmosis. You found five different majors to pack yourself
into. You ask someone out who speaks three languages. And in all
three of them they say no. Third year, your living situation deteriorates.
Your toilet explodes, your upstairs neighbor is a good tap dancer.
[Laughter] Your method of selling yourself for internships
is "if you give me this opportunity, you'll give me this opportunity."
Most pre-meds are no longer. Fourth year. I forgot core bio!
Oops. For the past four plus years, we've been measuring
ourselves against failing systems and lucky moments. We asked
ourselves: Do you like who you've become?
And the answer was off enno. You know, no one wants to hear a graduation
speech about dark matter unless it's related to physics. But I capped
stand here without -- and being grateful -- without acknowledging that
that gratitude is the result of pain and failure. That pain is now humility.
And that failure has become a hab it of maintaining a steady diet
of truth. Many of us came here excited and leave here
angry. Many of us struggled with our mental health.
Many of us were punished for it. Some of us are better for it. Some
of us lost things or found things, met people who changed us, partied
hard -- or didn't -- lost people. Lost hope here.
I know I did. Like many students, I am a fifth year because
I went on leave. Why?
Because I thought about ending my life here. And I came close twice.
I stand here two years after one of "the" worst years of my life to
acknowledge that most of college is rarely having anything turn out as
you expected. And the things that do work out are often the result of
luck and privilege. And acknowledging that uncomfortable truth
is eye opening, really. We have learned so, so much from the darker
parts. For years, I couldn't think critically except
about myself. The depths of that sadness opened me up.
The days ahead won't be harder for us. We have already been in the real world. It
isn't hard. It's just a new challenge.
But we are resilient. And our curiosity is real.
I stand here like everybody, a bit damaged. But ready in my
unreadiness. And prepared to fail again. And what a wonderful feeling it is to know
that you received one of the best educations in the world that showed you
that you are not the best. That you were of the world. Realizing that
a good education makes you question the institution you received it from.
How it has taken your passions and matured them. How it can restore
your vision in a time of darkness.
Graduation not only marks a moment of change; it marks a moment that you
have changed. And I do firmly believe with everything in
me that that is the aim of education.
And, remember to give back if you're working at Goldman Sachs, we don't
have to choose between comfort and social change because we have the
privilege to do both. Thank you. [CHEERS AND APPLAUSE]
>>> >>>
>>> Thank you, Karen. Our final speaker will be
Elizabeth, "Liz." Liz is a political science major with a minor
in Human Rights. She calls Arlington Texas home and has been involved
in various activities on campus ranging from but not limited to serving
as a former political Chair of the organization of black students,
former student advisory board member, campus Director of Dream Outside
the Box Uchicago, and contributing writer for the black youth project.
Liz was also named a Fulbright scholar this year.
[CHEERS AND APPLAUSE] Please welcome to the podium, Liz.
[Applause.] >> ELIZABETH DAVENPORT: Liz Liz.
>>> Liz: The late widely acclaimed recording artist Prince kicked off
many of his concerts with the following phrase. Dearly beloved, we are
gathered here today to get through this thing called life.
Well, bar borrowing from the elusive pop icon. Dearly beloved, we are
all gathered here today to celebrate getting through this "thing" called
Uchicago. I could get into the late nights and early
mornings and the reg, brutal winter winds and the ever daunting core spitting
system, but I won't. After all, we are here to celebrate. And despite
those challenging experiences, each of us has myriad reasons
to be proud today. Some widely shared with our classmates. Some
particular to our own personal struggles.
During occasions such as this one, it is common for the speaker to
encourage the graduates and all who are here to support them, to aim high
and never stop believing in themselves. But I won't do that. After all, if you're
here today, you know how to car pay that diem.
-- Carpe that diem. So I won't stand here and tell you what to
do or how to do it. Rather, I will remind you of who you should
be doing this for. As tempting as it may be to make these graduation
festivities all about us and the time, love and dollars poured into
getting us here today, our celebration is bigger than us.
It is about all of the people who will never need us and, yet, be
impacted by the things we do and say. A degree from the University of Chicago will
undoubtedly open many doors.
But the real task is figuring out how we can use this degree to open
doors for as many other people as possible. I'll tell you a quick story about an experience
on campus that captures my time here so well.
Like many of you, I spent much of my fourth year working on my B. A.
thesis. I truly believe the work I was doing was rev
elutionary and trail blazing.
That was until the week before it was due, I casually ran across an
article in a law journal that was in essence my entire thesis.
In retrospect, I was naive to have assumed what I was doing had never
been done before. After all, there is no such thing as new knowledge.
But it was then that a professor reminded me that the importance of
doing this work wasn't simply for the sake of my own learning but,
instead, to amplify the voices of those who have been marginalized.
To whom much is given, like this all consuming taxing, yet highly
rewarding degree, much is required. And on this campus, and this city, in this
country, in this world, there is serious work to be done.
Who better to do this work than a group of people who are committed to
more than remaining on the surface? Who understand that rigorous inquiry requires
leaving no stone unturned and no world view deconstructed.
Those of us here today were so very fortunate to get through this thing
called UChicago. So, let's get out there into the newsrooms,
the labs, the boardrooms, the classrooms, and the communities. To do
whatever is necessary to help as many others as possible get through this
thing called life. Thank you.