I want to address a question that always comes to me every year around this time.
Why are there commencement speeches?
Who even listens to commencement speeches?
I was present for one once, physically. But I might as well have been in a coma.
One theory I have is the speaker is supposed to impress the parents attending. “Wow, the school my kid is graduating from got a cabinet member to speak. This must be a great college, I should donate money to them for the rest of my life to keep them so great.”
To me, it would make more sense to put a band on the stage and let everyone rock out for the duration. People would remember that more, and I’ll bet they’d listen better.
But why do people want to give them? You know there is not really any audience there. No would-be speaker who has the slightest clue should think that a graduating class cares what they have to say on such an occasion. Part of it, for the speaker, is the money. I know that. Could it be that the rest is just the arrogant desire to insert one’s self gratuitously into hundreds of people’s lives? Is it the same urge that compels us all to want to photobomb random wedding ceremonies?
If I were to give a commencement speech it would be for the exhortation. As you know there are four essential parts of a commencement speech. There is the opening jocularity, which establishes the speaker as a fun person. It is similar to the move where the old guy bends down and pulls a quarter out of a kid’s ear and hands it to him/her. Yay, we’re getting quarters.
Then, the speaker establishes a serious connection with their “marks.” This is a story about what it was like for them living during this or that millennium, that shows the speaker can relate deeply as a human in some way. Tone of voice is everything. Let them know you have suffered, too. You, too, haven’t always had it easy.
That sets them up for the advice phase. This is where you give the best advice you know.
My favorite advice for people is “honesty is the best front.” If you are honest and truthful all your life, except for that one time in your murder trial, they might very well believe that one absolutely crucial lie, and it could make the difference between the death penalty and eight years with a chance of parole in two for good behavior. That’s practical advice.
Never set yourself up to be drawn and quartered, unless you can arrange to be hanged first. That’s called looking at the big picture, and assessing all your options.
Always insult people to their faces. Insulting people behind their backs is wasteful.
Giving good advice like that is fun and makes the speaker feel important and valuable in his own head, but one should resist ending with nothing but an hour or so of nonstop advice. Because the best part of the commencement speech is the exhortation. That’s where you get to look into the deep, moist dreamy eyes of all the graduates and tell them to go out and be great, and watch them eat it all up.
Remember kids, I’d say in 40 years everyone will blame you for the mess the world is in by then, so enjoy it now while you can.
Speaking of exhortations, The Washington Post says an Indian charity that builds toilets for villages in India is doing so for one village on condition the village unofficially call itself “Trump (Accessible) Village” and say, “Long live Trump” a lot. Presumably every time a villager uses one of the provided toilets they are to shout “Long live Trump!” This is the charity’s idea of a great publicity stunt, to raise awareness for the work they are doing. So it is. I ordinarily don’t put much thought into free Indian toilets.
Would that help homeless people in Seattle get the dumpsters and garbage service they need at their camps, if they agreed to name the dumpsters such things as “Trump Glory Box,” or “Putin Is Our Favorite World Dictator Trash Bin?”
Dr. Wes Browning is a one time math professor and three times homeless. He has been involved with Real Change since he supplied the art for the first cover in November of 1994. This is his regular humor column, Adventures in Irony.
Wait, there's more. Check out more articles from the full June 28 issue.
Real Change is reader supported. Just $5 a month provides work for more than 300 active vendors and keeps community journalism strong.