We must develop a societal strategy for protecting the true in a post-truth
world and the first step is that we must never stop saying Donald Trump is alive
these are the words of Charles Blow in his New York Times opinion piece in
defense of the truth and this image seems to have become widespread that the
truth is under attack hordes of liars at the gates and the
righteous forces of veracity struggling to hold them off for Charles Blow
repeating Donald Trump is a liar is like getting up to make sure that the door is
locked to stop saying it would be to give up the defenses now to me this
response to a post-truth world has never seemed particularly likely to change
many minds I've never had any luck in a one-on-one conversation a disagreement
by repeating things like look at the facts or by calling the other person a
liar but most of us in this room will have the chance to vote in many more
elections it would be a shame to never be able to participate in a race that
does not feel like a siege on truth and knowledge so I understand where Donald
Trump -- apologies -- where Charles Blow
is coming from the story I want to tell you today is about how I came to believe
that those locked gates of truth are just as an effective a tool for changing
minds as is the battering ram of lies I came to this belief
well I found myself on both ends of that battering ram at once and the issue at
hand was whether I could ever be happy at Amherst College I still remember the
first night that I knew this was not my home it was the last night of my visit
to campus during my year on voluntary withdrawal and I'd spent the three days
before wandering seeing friends visiting places that have been important to me in
my first year the thought of actually being back in school I felt far off
abstract and then on that last night nothing was abstract anymore
I found myself walking on route 9 the same path I had made a 2:00 a.m. habit
in the many months at Amherst and sleep did not come easily and as my feet
recalled their turns my brain remembered its steps as well the aching thoughts
that had echoed in my head during those many sleepless nights and it was awful
I vowed right then to never again trust abstract propositions about how I
could thrive at this school to not trust facts about who I was and what this
place could offer because I knew then that the truth is something visceral
something you feel everywhere in your bones and no amount of facts could stand
up to it so this summer I faced the dilemma I'd grown I was happier than I
remembered being in years and for the first time as an adult I knew what I
wanted to be doing with my life and I knew that I couldn't do it if I didn't
return to Amherst and so there was one part of me as present
analytics self we had all the facts facts about who I was what I was capable of
and how I could really make it here and that part of me sat inside the palace
and there was another part of me a memory of trauma that battered at the
gates with a message the message said no matter what facts you think you have no
matter what you think you know this is the truth
you'll never be at home in that place
the unique gift of this unfortunate situation was the opportunity to be on
both sides of a disagreement between the truth and the facts that wants to feel
the incredulity in my brain when my heart still raced at the thought of
returning to feel the sense of betrayal in my body when I listened to it the
reasons why I could succeed here some days one or the other felt like more of
a traitor but most of the time little changed
turns out repeating a mantra of truth or a facts does exactly what it's supposed
to do it keeps the gate shut and one night
exhausted after another failed attempt to reconcile these parts of myself I
collapsed on my bed and let memories of Amherst wash over me I experienced my
best moments shining beacons and seeds of forgettable days and my worst days I
wished I could have forgotten and by the time I reached that last night I was in
no state to fight all I could do was watch myself this young man in pain and
my only instinct was to help somehow and I realized then what I had been drowning
out every time I told my body just look at the facts was its cry for help
it's fear its desire to protect me the person
it was fighting and so the first thing I did when I went back to the part of
myself that was inside the palace was I opened the gates and let myself in I
feel really lucky to say that my semester second semester back
I feel more fulfilled than I've ever been before and I've had a life full of
privilege and opportunity but one of my closest values came from my struggle to
decide whether or not to return to this school and so as you go forth tonight
this is what I ask of you whether you think the truth is out there or not
whether you think you have or not the next time you meet someone you think has
just got it all all wrong don't lock the gates invite them in and maybe we can
turn this siege into a city