By the authority vested in me by the Charter of Brown University and the Board of Fellows
of the Corporation, I hereby declare the 254th Commencement of Brown University convened.
Good morning!
Welcome to this historic place on this just absolute glorious day.
These will be your last academic exercises as Brown undergraduates.
In a very few minutes, you’ll be formally granted your degrees.
And when you return up the hill to the Main Green, you will do so as alumni of the great
Brown university class of 2022!
I hope you loved marching down the hill with generations of alumni cheering you on.
They are so excited for you.
And I hope that over the past several days, you’ve had a chance to ask some of them
about their time at Brown.
If you did, you would have heard some familiar themes that bind generations of brunonians
together.
Not just the excellent education you received, the professors you got to know, but also things
like shopping period, Spring Weekend, and 5:00 A.M.
Breakfasts at Louie’s‑‑ and not because you woke up early.
And you may even have found some members of the 50th reunion class who took 9 from Barrett
Hazeltine!
Now, although you have much in common with previous generations of alumni, your class
is different.
It really is.
You have had the distinctive experience of a global pandemic that intersected three of
your four years at Brown.
That's unique.
Going to college during a pandemic was not what you had planned, and it's certainly not
what any of you would have preferred.
For a period of time, you had to give up things you love, like musical performances, athletics
competitions, volunteering in local schools, social activities and many more things.
Some of you, as the chaplain noted, lost loved ones to the people, people who should have
been here today to celebrate your graduations.
They would have been so proud of you on this really, truly wonderful day.
In the face of very real grief and disappointment, you found ways to keep your communities together,
and you did it brilliantly virtually.
You held remote concerts, supported our local healthcare providers, and tutored schoolchildren
online.
A great program was set up here at Brown.
So you did wonderful things.
There have been many hard moments.
But maybe some day‑‑ and I don't know when this corner gets turned‑‑ but your
memories of this period will develop just a hint of nostalgia.
They will.
Just think about it.
You could yawn all you wanted in the most boring of lectures because people couldn't
see underneath your masks.
That was great!
And you’re possibly the first generation of Brown students to say you missed being
able to eat in the Ratty.
Now, let's be serious.
This community came together and they supported each other.
It was a team effort.
Judging by the memes I see, Russell Carey‑‑ who used to be known to students primarily
for his role in calling snow days‑‑ has become a campus hero.
But in truth, he’s one of many, and we owe all of the administrators, faculty, staff,
and student leaders a debt of gratitude for getting us through this time.
And today, because it's an especially big commencement weekend, there are hundreds of
Brown employees are here to support our largest ever in‑person commencement and reunion
weekend with all of your friends and family members.
So can you please give them a round of applause, all of the Brown employees?
Thank you.
I also want to recognize 10 of your classmates on the women's crew team who cannot be here
today.
They are competing in the NCAA Championships.
Now, I’d initially decided to stay away from the pandemic in my remarks to you today,
but I couldn't.
It’s been just too big a part of our recent lives.
And I think we’ll all be processing the significance of this pandemic experience for
years and years to come.
As I start that processing myself, I’ve been considering what I’ve learned about
making hard decisions in times of great uncertainty.
On one of the numerous zoom meetings I had with other college presidents over the past
two years‑‑ they were part advice and part therapy sessions, I think‑‑
I remember one president describing how it felt like driving through a thick fog with
no headlights, and having to make quick decisions about whether to turn left, turn right, stopping
was not an option.
When you're faced with that kind of fog‑like uncertainty, what do you do?
We like to look for silver linings, and perhaps there’s something to learn from our experience.
The truth is that life is filled with uncertainty.
We often don’t know whether decisions we make will ultimately turn out to be right
or wrong.
We just don't.
As Brown students, you’ve faced many decisions as you planned your educations, decided what
you were going to do at Brown, navigating the open curriculum.
As college graduates, you’ll navigate even more, even more.
In the coming years, you’ll make many consequential decisions‑‑ where to live, where to work,
whether and when to go to graduate or professional school, whether and when to start a family.
I can guarantee you that there will be points in your life when you feel like you’re driving
through a fog with no headlights.
So when this happens, what do you do?
My experience through the pandemic taught me two things about tackling hard decisions
in the face of uncertainty.
You may be able to think of more, but I'll just stick with two.
One is hold fast to your values.
Brown is defined by its values: academic freedom, respect, equity, integrity, and the fundamental
importance, absolutely fundamental, of advancing knowledge.
These are the values that have guided my own decision‑making in the pandemic.
We brought students back to campus.
We never stopped our research.
We didn’t have layoffs.
We protected the health of our students, employees, and community members.
Doing these things was core to who we are and what we stand for.
So values, they're important.
They are what make us step back and ask ourselves: what are we trying to accomplish, and why?
What matters in the big picture?
And I thought about this after Frances Haugen, who is best known as the “Facebook whistleblower,”
and she spoke at Brown.
Hopefully, some of you saw her.
She was fantastic.
When Frances realized that her work at Facebook didn’t align with her values, she had to
decide what to do.
She could continue advancing in a stable and lucrative career, or she could take a new
path, one that was true to her values.
And she did, and faced with many short‑term challenges, but that's what she chose.
Some of you may be going to work for Facebook, but I want to add Frances said in her talk,
"Go work for Facebook.
Go work for Facebook.
It's a great company and you have great opportunities to make change from within."
So that was her message.
But some day, the point is, you might be in Frances' shoes, so what do you do?
My advice: think about your values opinion they're core, they're central and follow them.
The second point I'll make is you have to accept the risk of failure.
During the pandemic, Brown took some calculated risks in line with our value of advancing
knowledge.
For example, would we be able to stand up a first‑class testing program in time for
the start of the fall 2020 semester?
Despite a few bumps, we did.
But it kept me up more than a few nights.
Would our students‑‑ all of you‑‑ abide by the necessary health protocols?
For the most part, you did.
For the most part.
It was great.
If we hadn’t been willing to take some risk, we would have gone fully remote.
That’s a decision I think we all would have regretted forever.
So you have to be willing to take risk.
Finding real joy, making discoveries, changing the world‑‑ these are all things that
happen when you’re brave enough and bold enough to accept that you might not get it
right on the first try, or the second, or maybe even the third.
A couple of months ago, Bill Clinton visited Brown, and he was asked about whether he has
any regrets about his career in politics.
And he shared that he probably would have regrets no matter what career he chose.
And then he talked about the need to take risks.
And he said this‑‑ I thought it was interesting‑‑ he said:
“the unhappiest people at my high school reunion are not the people who have gone bankrupt,
lost elections, been beat up, or had terrible things happen.
The unhappiest people are the people who were afraid to try what they wanted to do in their
lives.”
And I don’t want any of you to lead lives of regret.
I want you to go out into the world, live by your values, and be the brave and bold
brunonians that I know you want to be.
So when you return for reunions in 10 or 20 or 50 years‑‑ to cheer on future graduating
classes as they march through the gates‑‑ you’ll be able to talk with each other,
your classmates, about how your time at Brown, pandemic and all, has shaped the decisions
you’ve made and the arcs of your lives from today on.
Okay now, would you like me to read the Latin script that confers your degrees?
Okay.
So I first have to ask the Fellows their assent to award you your degrees.
So, my Fellows, I have some Fellows here,
Socii honorandi: juvenes quos ad gradum Baccalaurei idoneos comperimus, vobis
praesentamus et eos ad hunc gradum promovere liceat rogamus.
Honored colleagues, we present these young people whom we have found fit
for the Bachelor's degree,
and we ask that we be permitted to advance them to this degree.
Licet et placet.
Do you know what that means?
It means yes.
Thank you.
Candidati ad gradum Baccalaurei auscultabunt
Will the candidates for the Bachelor’s degree
please listen attentively.
Auctoritate mihi commissa,
vos ad gradum Baccalaurei admitto,
omniaque jura ac privilegia ad hunc gradum pertinentia vobis concedo.
In huius rei testimonium diplomata vestris conlegis in Collegii Gramine tradam.
By the authority vested in me, I confer upon you the Bachelor’s degree, and I grant to
you all rights and privileges pertaining to this degree.
In testimony of this fact, I will award diplomas to representatives of your class on the College
Green later today.
Congratulations, you may now move your tassel to the left side of your mortar board.
And we look forward to greeting you back up on the
College Green.
See you soon!