(tranquil music)
- [Announcer] Stanford University.
- [Presenter] Please join me in welcoming Issa Rae.
(audience applauds, cheers)
- Hello, good morning!
Thank you guys for the warm welcome.
Thank you for hosting me.
Thank you to the president for having me here,
and the student body presidents for nominating me.
It's such an honor and privilege
to be your class of 2021 commencement speaker.
(audience cheers)
I'm both delighted and terrified
to speak here at my alma mater,
and what is, hands down, the best school in the world.
And I can say that,
(audience applauds, cheers)
I can say that because I've been to every school on Earth.
So, you can trust me.
Before I start, I just want to acknowledge,
as the speakers before me have,
that you guys are incredible for making it this far.
Obviously, this past year and a half
has tested so many of us.
And I can't imagine having to muster up the enthusiasm,
much less the strength, to finish getting my degree
while the world was falling apart around us,
but you fuckin' did it.
(audience cheers, applauds)
(chuckles) And I promise you that despite the insanity
and uncertainty you've endured, you will cherish these years
and the people around you for the rest of your life.
And you can actually trust me on that.
It took me leaving here to realize it,
but this place is truly amazing.
You can get a good education anywhere, honestly,
no shade, Stanford,
but what made Stanford special for me was two things.
One, it granted me the room to make a space for myself
if I didn't see one,
which in turn, gave me the confidence
to create a space for myself
when I officially entered the outside world.
And two, most importantly and life-changingly so,
is the community it allowed me to build.
The community I built at this school is, without a doubt,
the reason I was able to pursue my dreams,
and why I was asked
to speak here today before you.
And so this morning, I'd like to walk you through
how this community shaped me, if that's okay with you.
(audience cheers, applauds)
Thank you. Thank you for that approval.
(laughs) So it actually all started here for me.
I remember sitting where you all sat,
in my own graduation, a lot closer together, when I was 22.
My friends and I had just done
the hypest wacky walk of all time.
I'm standing by that.
We carried a boombox, and we were blasting
Boosie, Foxx, and Webbie's "Wipe Me Down" remix.
(audience cheers)
That iconic song would serve as our personal anthem
for future birthdays, holidays, more graduations, weddings,
reunions, kickbacks, and congratulatory celebrations.
I didn't realize it at the time,
but the opening bars of that bop
would serve as a personal mantra for me
and the way I moved through my community,
and through my own spaces in life.
But more on that later.
A couple of months prior to our graduation,
there was a rumor that started spreading
that Oprah was gonna be our commencement speaker.
And we were all excited as hell.
I was especially hype
because Oprah was and is one of my core three inspirations,
along with Diddy and Ellen.
This was 2007, so chill on me.
(audience laughs)
I couldn't believe that Oprah herself
was gonna come and send off our class into greatness.
It was like, "Wow! What a way to go out!"
And then a few weeks before, it was announced
that we were getting a poet laureate to speak.
And I said, "A poet what-eate?"
(audience chuckles)
And I was triggered because I've never been cultured enough
to enjoy just raw poetry.
My shit needs to be cooked a little.
(audience member cheers)
But I still went in with an open mind.
However, you can't play a song like "Wipe Me Down,"
and then just sit down and listen to dry words,
no matter how brilliant they were, and they were.
So unfortunately, my mind closed really quickly.
And in my defense, I was so hype off of the adrenaline
of finally entering into the next phase of my life,
and I tuned everything out
to cherish the final moments with my friends
for the last time we'd all be in the same city.
So we were quietly cracking jokes,
laughing and sharing memories with one another
in the audience via text.
And in hindsight, it was disrespectful.
And if you're doing that during my speech right now,
absolutely no hard feelings.
I forgive you 'cause I'm on your time.
My West-African dad, however,
was sitting up in the audience, watching me, seething.
He sent me a text from above, and he said,
"Stop acting like a fool, and show some respect!"
And I was like, "How are you seeing me, Dad?"
I'm like, we were so close, when I tell you.
So my dad was particularly upset that day,
because up until that point, he was under the impression
that I had spent the last four years
majoring in political science.
And I had already disappointed him once in high school
when I discovered after working at his Inglewood clinic,
and interning at Killer King Hospital,
that I didn't like to see people in pain,
and I no longer wanted to be a doctor like he was.
But then he bounced back quickly, and he was like,
"Oh, there's always law or business."
And so I was like, "Okay, cool. I'll pursue law then."
And so instead, he learned that day,
via the snitch ceremony pamphlets, I guess,
that I had actually not majored in poli sci.
And after the ceremony,
he yelled, "African-American studies?
You may as well have majored in flowers!"
(audience chuckles)
And I didn't understand why botany
had to catch a stray like that, but he was quite pissed.
(audience chuckles)
To my credit, I took all the courses to be able to declare,
but when it came time to answer the simple question
of why I wanted to major in political science,
I could only think, "Because my dad wanted me to."
And so I didn't.
I wanted to be a writer, I wanted to pursue film, TV,
and at the time, theater.
And I wanted to tell our stories,
but I was also too scared
to pursue it as anything but a hobby,
until Stanford, and the community I built here,
changed that for me.
So now I'd like to revisit the song, "Wipe Me Down,"
that I was just telling you about,
and deconstruct those influential bars
that shaped my approach and worldview.
"What are those magical lyrics?" you ask.
Well, I'll tell you.
Foxx opens the first verse
with these powerful two sentences.
"I pull up at the club, VIP, gas tank on E,
but all drinks on me, wipe me down."
(audience cheers, applauds)
Mm-hmm, that is the kind of seasoned poetry
I can get behind.
Let me repeat that.
"I pull up at the club, VIP, gas tank on E,
but all drinks on me, wipe me down."
When I use my Stanford education to break these lyrics down,
I can't help but to think of my own journey,
and what your journey will ultimately be.
Now, mind you, a lot of this will be a reach,
but so were most of the papers I turned in here.
So, (chuckles) just bear with me.
(audience laughs)
(audience cheers, applauds)
So, let's start with the first bar.
"I pull up at the club, VIP."
Now here, imagine you're entering the club of life.
(chuckles) Over the years,
I've learned how essential it's been
for me to approach every opportunity as a VIP,
as someone who belongs and deserves to be here.
- [Audience Member] Yes!
- That was a lesson I began to learn at Stanford.
From the moment I started my first class at this school,
I started to question
whether or not I truly deserved to be here.
I thought I was great at calculus,
until I took Math 42 that first quarter,
and my entire world collapsed.
And I was like, "Can I even add?"
What the fuck was AP Calc for? Why did I do that?"
And then a couple of quarters in, I learned,
like many of you did, I'm sure,
"Oh, everybody feels like that here.
And everybody worries that they don't deserve to be here."
And then I settled in
and slowly started to create the spaces
that made me comfortable on campus.
When I felt the drama department
was a little too white to fit into,
I was able to get the resources from Stanford
to put on multicultural theatrical productions
for all four years that I was here.
(audience cheers)
And, thank you.
And my fellow classmates rallied
to support my admittedly very bootleg productions
by either being in the shows, helping me behind the scenes,
and buying tickets to attend them.
After my second year of putting on plays,
I felt like I could actually write, direct,
and produce professionally.
So, when I was a sophomore here,
we didn't have a film program yet,
so I stopped out of school to try to pursue film in LA.
At 19, I had co-written a feature film script
with my writing partner at the time,
a fellow Stanford classmate,
who shared my love for '90s black romances.
And gassed that we had written something special,
we begged our parents to let us take some time off
to try to get this film made, and make it in Hollywood.
Her parents were cool about it,
but my mom was worried about my commitment,
like, "Don't waste this time."
And my dad was like, "Don't waste our money."
And I promised them both that I would come back to school
if nothing happened by the end of that quarter.
And they agreed to let me stop out.
Long story short, we did not make it in Hollywood.
And I learned so many disheartening lessons
about the kinds of stories
Hollywood was not interested in telling.
Lessons that would make me question
whether I could ever tell stories in this industry at all.
So I came back to finish out school, tail between my legs,
and continue to put on these plays
that built my confidence as a creative.
And again, these plays were super trash, in hindsight,
but the Stanford community, and my community in particular,
really made me feel like they were Tony Award-worthy.
My senior year, after still trying and failing
to secure writing opportunities,
because I was told my work didn't have an audience,
and it couldn't sell, I got the inspiration, as you heard,
to create a web series that I called, "Dorm Diaries."
The series was about being black at Stanford,
and featured my friends, who were playing archetypes.
Like, "Hey girl, I have this whole character.
You should play her. It's not about you."
(audience chuckles)
And in some cases, my friends were putting in hours
for class, their schoolwork,
rehearsals for the play that I was putting on,
and then dedicating their time
to be in this hobby of a web series that I made.
And that's love.
And then when I released the series on Facebook,
again, this was 2007, guys, get off my back,
the outpouring of support for the episodes from my community
made me realize that Hollywood was wrong
about there not being an audience
for the stories that I wanted to tell.
(audience cheers, applauds)
(chuckles) So, as you leave this campus and venture out,
whether you're starting a new job, or going to grad school,
or figuring out your purpose from gig to gig,
make sure you pull up at the club VIP,
because you're exactly where you're supposed to be.
The next bar of Foxx's opus
opened my eyes to the true nature of giving.
Again, he says, "Gas tank on E,
but all drinks on me."
Oh man, I just got chills. (chuckles)
Do you hear (chuckling) the humility and service in that?
(audience chuckles)
What I took from this line is that no matter what obstacles
or dire circumstances you personally face,
you should always value and celebrate your community.
He's saying, "No matter what I'm going through, I got you."
And those are words to live by,
and words I've experienced from my chosen family right here.
Trust and believe that your Stanford family
will show up for you in unexpected ways.
When I was a freshman, I lived in Rinconada, and,
(audience cheers)
okay, (chuckles) and my other close friend lived in Branner.
And we would always make the bike treks to Uj
to generally kick it, but she had ulterior motives.
She had a crush on a guy who was two years ahead of us,
because he reminded her of her current boyfriend.
(audience laughs)
He was an amazing dancer, and he was also gay,
but ride-or-die friends don't ask questions, they just ride.
So I always tagged along on her visits.
They never got together because she had a boyfriend,
and again, he was gay.
And then, he eventually graduated, leaving us behind.
But fast forward to 2011, I'm four years out of college,
very broke, not where I want to be at all,
and I have this one idea for a series,
called, "The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl,"
that I've been sitting on for two years
because I don't have the resources
or the money to make it happen.
And out of the blue, my friend's old crush hits me up,
saying that he's been thinking about pursuing acting,
and asked if I know of any classes or opportunities,
to please send them his way.
I tell him I will absolutely be on the lookout.
And then when I finally pressured myself
to stop making excuses, and decide to make the first episode
of "Awkward Black Girl,"
he is the first person I call to act in it.
I didn't have much of a script, just a concept,
but he was down because he wanted the experience.
And as the series started to grow,
I was getting progressively more poor,
but my small extended Stanford community
started to come through in ways that I just didn't expect.
The girl that I mentioned co-writing the script with,
at 19 my sophomore year, came on as a producer,
and helped up the production quality of the series.
And then when we started a small writer's room
for "Awkward Black Girl,"
we tapped another girl from Stanford
who was a year older than us, who I didn't even speak to,
or she didn't speak to me at the time.
We didn't know each other.
And she was working to break into the industry.
And then, the two of them were just as broke as I was,
gas tanks on E, but they rallied together to buy drinks,
and help me make the series.
And then when I couldn't afford to make the show anymore,
it was our mutual Stanford friends,
and in some cases, administrators,
who donated either personally or via Kickstarter
to keep the series going.
And at that, I have to shout out Miss Jan Barker-Alexander,
who was just so instrumental
in so much of my experience here and outside.
The outpouring of support from this community,
of people who I met here on campus,
are the reason I was able
to ultimately make the show of my dreams
for HBO, "Insecure."
And in my own industry journey, no matter my circumstances,
I've always made it a priority
to buy the next round of drinks
for upcoming creatives, figuratively speaking.
Sometimes literally too.
So did that work? Are y'all still with me?
(audience cheers, applauds)
Okay, well, that brings me
to my last golden nugget of a sentence,
the refrain, "Wipe me down."
The refrain commands respect.
It says, "Give me my props. I've earned them."
And yesterday morning, I finished shooting the final season
of my show, "Insecure."
(audience cheers, applauds)
Thank you.
And when I wrapped,
what ended up being a very grueling week,
and a final 20-hour day, I got teary-eyed
while thanking one of my "Awkward Black Girl" OGs
from my curated Stanford community.
She started with me on the web series back in 2011,
and ended with me as an executive producer
on the TV show just yesterday.
And she was standing right across from me,
and then right next to her
stood one of my best friends, another alum,
who creatively inspired one of the main characters
in the series, whether she wanted to or not, low key.
(audience chuckles quietly)
And this is a show that I was writing for eight years,
shooting for six, and a series that the industry,
just 10 years ago, was confident wouldn't have an audience.
We were nominated for eight Emmys last year, and won one,
and we got to shoot,
(audience cheers, applauds)
and we got to shoot five seasons of it on our terms.
So, (clears throat) wipe me down.
(audience cheers, applauds)
That show and my journey was literally made possible,
not by any mentors or connections to the industry.
It was made by tapping into the people
sitting next to me at one point.
Connecting with new people after school
is especially hard during this time and climate,
but if nothing else,
the isolation and circumstances of last year
made the relationships I've been able to build over time
that much more dear to me.
And I will continue to value these relationships
as I enter this exciting next chapter of my life,
much like you all are.
So as you leave here today,
many of you might be wondering, "What the hell is next?"
You might feel smart
and satisfied with your experience here, but unprepared.
Or you may feel lost for a bit
as you figure out what moves to make, or where to go,
and how to make the most of the time
and hella money you spent here.
Many of those answers are sitting right next to you,
or across from you, or behind you.
Build and tap into your community.
The brilliant minds in this room
will have a hand in shaping the culture,
making the world better,
leaving long-lasting legacies behind,
and doing a bunch of other important shit.
I've watched so many people in my own class do just that.
And I can't wait to witness
what you all contribute to the world.
So to honor the classic song that has guided my own life,
as you leave this room,
don't forget to ask yourself what you can offer
to make the club of life go up,
how you can make this place better,
in spite of your circumstances.
And as you figure those things out,
don't forget to step back,
and wipe yourselves down, wipe each other down,
and go claim what's yours, like the VIPs that you are.
You've earned it. Congratulations.
(audience cheers, applauds)
- [Announcer] For more, please visit us at Stanford.edu.