As has been the case since 2001, a committee of seniors selects a member of their class to deliver an address as part of this ceremony. This year's speaker was Julie Lipson, a joint major in English and Film and Media Studies from Nevada City, CA. Last summer she attended the Middlebury College Bread Loaf School of English to study and write poetry. Julie’s primary interest is in screen writing, and she plans to pursue that in Los Angeles next year.
The following remarks were delivered on Saturday, Febraruy 2, 2008.
Four years ago today, it was my birthday. It was my birthday and I was alone. Having just descended off the plane from California into a kind of cold that I didn’t know actually existed, I sat by myself, a shy kid in my empty single in Hepburn, wondering what exactly was so exciting to the squealing girls down the hall, and thinking to myself, what the HELL am I doing here? Today, it is my birthday again, exactly four years later, and I’ve finally figured out what it was I was doing in that dorm room.
In fact, what I was doing was pretty similar to what I am doing right now. Although we are all here in this chapel together with family, and some of the best friends we’ll ever have, I know that each one of us who is graduating today feels on some level, alone, unsure, and kind of like, what the hell am I doing?
My mom says I’m kind of a watcher. She says when I was little I would watch closely everyone on the playground before finally venturing out to play. While Middlebury definitely did a lot to teach me to play more readily, I have to admit I have also learned a lot here just from watching – and mostly from watching all of you. While this, of course, sounds a bit creepy, please let me tell you what I mean. By watching you guys, I gain confidence in myself. Okay, now I’m really digging myself a hole, but hang in there.
You give me hope because when I see you I see enormous possibility. Without exception I can look at every single individual in my Feb class and be absolutely floored thinking about the possibilities in front of them and how lucky the world is to have them. The Febs in our class have been on every continent, speak a myriad of languages, have starred in, written, directed their own plays, been weekly contributors to the college newspaper, have created meaningful organizations, been the concert mistress of our college orchestra, have organized their own dance productions, have given back to the community, have been leaders in the SGA, in community council, have riled people up, calmed their friends down. The class of 07.5 is truly incredible. If, in the last four years we hadn’t been so weighed down by thousands of pages of reading and looming presentations on applied econometrics, we probably could have taken over the world.
Really. Think of anyone in our class. Anyone. Think of your freshman year roommate (granted, I didn’t have one), think of the kids who you thought would be your best friends but who you actually never speak to anymore, think of your true, best friends, really think about them each as individuals… think of the Febs who sit in the lounge, Think of your Feb leader partner, think of who was in your orientation group, think of the first person you met at Midd, think of the person in our Feb class who is sitting closest to you right now, right this moment. Now answer me this, truthfully, how much confidence do you have in this person, in all of these people? Without a doubt, it is a lot. So now here’s the part that gives me hope and should give you some too. If you are graduating today, you are one of those people that everybody in this room is thinking about. And again remember who is in this room - would you doubt them?
Being a Feb, we take the road less traveled by. That, of course, means not only that we’ve pleased the ghost of Middlebury’s past, Robert Frost, but it also means we’ve taken the harder road. When I was thinking about what to write for this speech, I read some graduation speeches given by very successful people to their alma maters. I discovered that the main commonality among these speakers was that, at graduation, they had no idea what was in store for them. Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple said, “You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.” Conan O’ Brian said in his speech to Harvard that when he graduated he was thinking exactly what we are thinking right now, “What’s going to happen to me? Will I find my place in the world? Am I really graduating a virgin? Still have 24 hours. Roommate’s mom very hot. Swear she’s checking me out.” But, as Febs, we should remember that we are actually kind of ahead of everyone else in this regard. While we were probably were more unsure of ourselves coming to Midd off schedule, hence the excessive encouragement and chanting of our Feb leaders and K. Guttentag, by now we are probably a little more confident that the road less traveled by actually leads somewhere. Unlike those who graduated in May, we have a bit more confidence in our ability to stray from the beaten path and be okay - because that path has taken us here. Look around you, you’re graduating, you did it, you’re just fine. We already know what its like to do things on our own clock, to come later and last longer, to ski down a mountain at graduation. As members of our incredible Feb class we don’t need a well-beaten path to find our way, all we need is a great big forest, our own sense of adventure will lead us off the track to new adventures and inevitably, great heights.
Recently, when I went to my father in a state of paralysis due to terror about myself and my future, he seemed, as usual, very calm. I don’t really think this is because he was necessarily so confident that I would be just fine, but more because he knew that there wasn’t anything I could do really, nevertheless something he could do for me. He told me – thrive on uncertainty – because that’s really the only thing we can do right now, and believe it or not, uncertainty may be the only consistent thing we have with us for the rest of our lives. So why not thrive on it? If you think about it, being the people we are, uncertainty is not such a bad thing. Four years ago, I was so uncertain I wanted to get right back on the plane to UC San Diego…but then I watched all of you. You took the uncertainty and ran with it and look what’s happened – we’ve met incredible people, made those kinds of friends everyone always tells you you’ll make in college, cried every time we had discussion section with John Elder (okay, so maybe that was just me) and had so many days/nights where we went without sleep, not because we had a ten pager to write, but because we didn’t want to miss one moment of what this place and these people gave us every day. I watched you dive right into that abyss, put in everything you have, bring your talents and your graces to this mystery we had all gotten ourselves into together. And after all of that I realize that there’s one thing that is certain - as members of this Feb class, every single one of us has the ability to make the uncertain meaningful, fulfilling and whole lot of fun. To thrive on it, as my dad would say, to groove with it, to just let things take shape while putting your everything into each moment. Four years ago Middlebury gave you a blank canvas and look what you created. Now, the path again strays into the unknown. So lets do what we do best, put our best Feb foot forward and lean on it. It’s my birthday again, and it’s one of the most uncertain moments of our lives–who knows what will happen next? Looks like its time to celebrate.