"I graduate tomorrow...holy crap" /Jim
I won't bore you guys with a long-winded entry about the same stuff I've been freaking out about for months now because 1) I have zero time today and 2) I'm as sick of talking about it as I'm sure you guys are of hearing it ;) But I did want to share with you the speech I'll be delivering tonight at the senior dinner in front of the majority of graduates and their families. I'm pretty nervous, but also excited to have the honor to address the senior class with what I hope isn't too much of a cliche graduation speech.
Note to my parental units who read my LJ: Might not want to read this since you'll be catching the live show later tonight. Thanks :)
Tomorrow is a day of firsts and lasts.
For the first time, I will walk across the Greek Theater stage, not alone, but with my peers as we finally receive the thing around which our college career has revolved.
And it’s the last time I’ll stand there as a student; an active part of this campus community that I am proud to call my alma mater.
Tomorrow is a day of questions answered.
Senior year was only a quarter of our time here at Redlands, and looking back on it, we can’t help but ask: Where did our four years go? Where do we find those minutes and moments that, for so long, defined our experience? Our existence. Ourselves.
Where do we find the four years that may as well have been forty when we first began this odyssey in the fall of 2005?
We don’t have to look far.
I believe they reach across campus, invisible time capsules seen only by those who lived it. They’re found in our classrooms, where we persevered through lectures, discussions, and presentations that make a commencement speech look easy. We find them in our residence halls, our small sanctuaries that saw dance parties, homesickness, victories and failures. And on the sports fields, where win or lose, rain or shine or even on the rarest occasions snow, we cheered for our Bulldogs and Och Tamale-d at every opportunity.
Tomorrow is a day of honor and thanks.
We are being honored with one of the highest achievements in education. But these achievements would be nothing without the unfailing support of our mentors, friends, and families. Each of us has been graced with the imparted wisdom of our professors, those who inspired and pushed us toward the things that scared us most, and are now here to congratulate us on having succeeded, and more importantly, tried. No matter how hard we wish, there are no office hours in the world outside these 160 acres, and so all we can do is thank you. Thank you for advising us far beyond the realm of academia, for teaching us things that no grade could possibly measure, for leading us to this moment.
Our families surround us today as they’ve surrounded us the last four years, filled with pride, and, inevitably worry, as we enter into the next of many terrifyingly thrilling phases in our lives. For some students, family was miles, even oceans away, something embraced with tired arms only on holidays or selected vacations. But distance could not deter the unconditional faith, hope, and love they carried for us every single step of the way. Just as your support does not stop tomorrow, neither does our gratitude. For all you’ve done to bring us here, we thank you now and always.
And in the most fitting way, our friends are beside, behind, and in front of us. There are bonds that were made our first day, some just this year. But longevity does not equal strength. Be they four years or four months old, these friendships carried us through the hardest of times when we could not do it ourselves. They were our families when a phone call from home was not enough. They were our teachers whose lessons in compassion and understanding will outlast any career we might pursue. Only they know the extent to which the trials and triumphs we shared here made us who we are. The athletes. The musicians. The thespians. The entrepreneurs. The artists. The activists. The leaders. The class of 2009.
A song from the university’s early years reads: “And when our path is done we’ll leave you, but no matter where we go, U of R we’re all behind you, and of Redlands all shall know.”
Our time at Redlands is behind us, but we will forever be behind that dear old U of R.
Congratulations.
Wish me luck!
Note to my parental units who read my LJ: Might not want to read this since you'll be catching the live show later tonight. Thanks :)
Tomorrow is a day of firsts and lasts.
For the first time, I will walk across the Greek Theater stage, not alone, but with my peers as we finally receive the thing around which our college career has revolved.
And it’s the last time I’ll stand there as a student; an active part of this campus community that I am proud to call my alma mater.
Tomorrow is a day of questions answered.
Senior year was only a quarter of our time here at Redlands, and looking back on it, we can’t help but ask: Where did our four years go? Where do we find those minutes and moments that, for so long, defined our experience? Our existence. Ourselves.
Where do we find the four years that may as well have been forty when we first began this odyssey in the fall of 2005?
We don’t have to look far.
I believe they reach across campus, invisible time capsules seen only by those who lived it. They’re found in our classrooms, where we persevered through lectures, discussions, and presentations that make a commencement speech look easy. We find them in our residence halls, our small sanctuaries that saw dance parties, homesickness, victories and failures. And on the sports fields, where win or lose, rain or shine or even on the rarest occasions snow, we cheered for our Bulldogs and Och Tamale-d at every opportunity.
Tomorrow is a day of honor and thanks.
We are being honored with one of the highest achievements in education. But these achievements would be nothing without the unfailing support of our mentors, friends, and families. Each of us has been graced with the imparted wisdom of our professors, those who inspired and pushed us toward the things that scared us most, and are now here to congratulate us on having succeeded, and more importantly, tried. No matter how hard we wish, there are no office hours in the world outside these 160 acres, and so all we can do is thank you. Thank you for advising us far beyond the realm of academia, for teaching us things that no grade could possibly measure, for leading us to this moment.
Our families surround us today as they’ve surrounded us the last four years, filled with pride, and, inevitably worry, as we enter into the next of many terrifyingly thrilling phases in our lives. For some students, family was miles, even oceans away, something embraced with tired arms only on holidays or selected vacations. But distance could not deter the unconditional faith, hope, and love they carried for us every single step of the way. Just as your support does not stop tomorrow, neither does our gratitude. For all you’ve done to bring us here, we thank you now and always.
And in the most fitting way, our friends are beside, behind, and in front of us. There are bonds that were made our first day, some just this year. But longevity does not equal strength. Be they four years or four months old, these friendships carried us through the hardest of times when we could not do it ourselves. They were our families when a phone call from home was not enough. They were our teachers whose lessons in compassion and understanding will outlast any career we might pursue. Only they know the extent to which the trials and triumphs we shared here made us who we are. The athletes. The musicians. The thespians. The entrepreneurs. The artists. The activists. The leaders. The class of 2009.
A song from the university’s early years reads: “And when our path is done we’ll leave you, but no matter where we go, U of R we’re all behind you, and of Redlands all shall know.”
Our time at Redlands is behind us, but we will forever be behind that dear old U of R.
Congratulations.
Wish me luck!