Good morning faculty, staff, family members, and most importantly, class of 2020!
Welcome back to Brown!
It’s good to be here celebrating our long awaited, long delayed graduation with you,
and I hope you’re able to spend the day with your family and friends, catching up
with people old and new alike.
It feels good to be back in person, doesn’t it?
Sorta.
Kinda.
Of course, as Brown reminded us this week, we’re still in a pandemic.
Thank you, Omicron.
Anyways, a lot has happened in the last two years since I spoke to you from my kitchen
table at my apartment in Wayland Square, with my then way too long hair.
We now live our lives mediated through QR codes, Taco Bell got rid of and brought back
the Mexican Pizza, and we have been through the ups and downs of a virus and cryptocurrency
values.
Kim and Kanye broke up, Ben and Jennifer are back together, and now we have to worry about
something called monkeypox.
And that’s all that has happened since I checked my phone this morning, so who knows
what could happen next.
But in all seriousness, I hope that you, that these last two years have been kind to you
and that whatever you’re doing with your talents, you’re doing something that satisfies
you – whether that’s more schooling, a job, or you’re just vibing.
And I hope that if, like me, you’re still figuring out how things work in life — I’m
29 years old, and I just began to use my dishwasher.
I hope that journey has been fulfilling so far.
For me, that journey has brought me right back here to Brown University where I work
at the School of Public Health as the lead of Narrative Projects and Policy Impact Initiatives
at the People, Place and Health Collective, a wonderful public health collective that
works on infectious disease and drug use.
Some of their lovely people are in the crowd as well.
All of that’s a fancy way of saying I’m a writer who works in public health.
For some of you, your journeys may have taken to you opposite ends of this country or this
planet.
You’ve moved out of old apartments and made new ones your home.
You’ve laughed, and you’ve cried, you’ve gained new friends and family and may have
tragically lost some;
you’ve simultaneously experienced grief and joy at the same time.
In essence, you’ve been experiencing just what it means to be alive, which means you’ve
been going through it in the best and worst ways possible.
No matter how we choose to spend our lives in our little corners of the earth, no matter
how good things may be going for us;
it is undoubtedly hard to escape the bleakness of the world at the time being, especially
this week.
People are dying from war, famine, disease, gun violence, climate change, and across the
world, people’s rights and freedoms are being curtailed at a rapid pace.
These events can seem distant and close to home at the same time.
If we are lucky enough to not be directly affected by them, they can also breed a sense
of hopelessness and nihilism.
If things are getting worse, and I have seemingly no ability to change things, why bother pay
attention at all?
Turn off the TV, delete the news app, and go on with your life.
When we think about how to make things better, how to reduce that suffering, it seems like
a laundry list of excuses descends from all corners of the universe, a million different
ways to tell us no.
No, it’s unrealistic.
No, it costs too much money.
No, the people will never agree to that.
If you can’t think of acceptable ways to change the world, why change it at all?
Turn off the TV, delete the news app, and go on with your life.
Now, I promise this speech will get less depressing.
I know some of y’all are like, “tell me something I don’t know.”
But as you’re here, gathered on this campus, I want you to think to back to why you came
to Brown in the first place.
Think about the excitement you had as you attended your first courses, the thrill you
got from conducting research and learning new skills.
You know, people typically don’t go to grad school to rake in the millions.
I know, it’s shocking.
Maybe they do at Harvard and Yale, but at Brown we’re intellectuals.
There’s a
reason you decided to pursue the degree you did.
During our graduate education, we were encouraged to pursue excellence and reach for the top;
we were encouraged to find ways to solve problems, not to make excuses about why we couldn’t
do something.
As a person who believes in God, my Muslim faith guides my belief that when it comes
to making the world a better place, and making life better for others, it doesn’t matter
if we were ultimately successful, but that we tried our best to do so.
Maybe for you that looks like contributing to cutting edge research on climate change
or helping us come up with new delivery mechanisms for the next generation of COVID vaccines.
Maybe it looks like helping defend workers’ rights to organize or making art that helps
us understand who we are in this moment.
And maybe it is just adding your voice to the chorus speaking out against injustice,
in op-eds, in public meetings, at protests.
The possibilities are endless.
But whatever you do and however you choose to do it, be passionate about it.
When we think about all the harm being perpetuated in the world, it is sobering to remember that
there are other people, with degrees like ours from institutions like ours who are writing
pieces of legislation that dehumanize people and cause them to feel fear, who are ordering
armies to occupy and terrorize populations, who stand by as our schools and grocery stores
are turned into war zones.
Those who harm do not know the meaning of the word “no.”
It does not exist in their vocabulary, indeed they have a limitless imagination.
So if they can use their imaginations and platforms to harm, we can use ours to heal,
repair and dream big.
These degrees that have been conferred upon us not only represent great potential, but
they also represent great responsibility.
We have a platform, and I encourage you to use it.
Now, before I let you go on your journeys, I have to point out that we aren’t making
this journey alone.
At each step of the way, we have people who support us and help us dream and achieve our
goals;
as I said in my last speech, we are the product of all the people who invested their time
and energy into us.
Be sure to thank them and bring them along with you.
For me, that group includes my family watching from Texas and California who are probably
rolling their eyes at every joke that I’ve made,
my friends from Toronto and the world over, colleagues, teachers, mentors, my Muslim community,
everyone who has read my work,
and of course, God, Allah, the most gracious and merciful.
Praise God.
Well, class of 2020, what can I say, it’s been an honor,
thank you so much for laughing at my jokes and inflating my ego.
I can’t wait to see the beautiful things you do in life.
I hope you have a great day.
God bless, stay safe, and most importantly be kind to one another.
Once again, congratulations class of 2020!