Thank you, President Liebowitz. And thank you to the Committee of four students and one dean who voted to give me the opportunity to speak here this morning. I hope you enjoy your respective bribes. Thank you to the faculty, staff, family and friends who are here this morning. And finally, thank you to the admissions office for temporarily suspending your impossible admissions standards, and accepting me here at Middlebury.
This is a wonderful occasion. And we’re all very lucky to be a part of it. In this trying time for our country and for the world at large, we should recognize how truly fortunate we are to be celebrating a college graduation, especially one at a place as special as Middlebury.
And especially one as unique as the February Graduation. However, I have to admit, I’m still a bit shaky on some of the details—is this really a graduation or more of a “celebration?” Do I even get a diploma or only a cane? And correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it still January?
These issues aside, what about the more pressing questions? Why are we all here in this godly sanctuary at this ungodly hour? In Ski Clothes? With hangovers? Clearly something must have gone terribly wrong. Why all this? Why? Because we’re febs.
And what does it mean to be a Feb?
Well, for one, we febs are exceptionally adept at confusing adults. The dumbfounded and bewildered stares I generate in parents when I tell them simply that I began College in the Winter rather than in the Fall still astonish me. I don’t even try to explain the complexities of the Feb program to grandparents—to those grandparents in the audience, Congratulations on being here today; my Grandma still thinks I graduated last May.
But there’s more. There’s more to being a Feb than the last vestige of a half-baked College scheme from the 70s to fill open beds in the spring semester. In fact, there’s a lot more.
Being a Feb means that you made an important choice. The graduates in this Chapel chose to take time before embarking on their college careers. When each one of us decided to matriculate at Middlebury as a feb, we took a small but calculated risk. We chose patience rather than haste and we invested in a path slightly more creative than the norm. We recognized the opportunity that exists in the unconventional and in this case— in taking time. For those who smartly feb’d themselves sometime in the past few years, you too invested in the opportunities afforded by taking time.
There were of course some downsides to starting as a feb: You would have to find a way to occupy yourself for eight months without any school…Oh the horror. You would also enter freshman year mid-way through, and face the specter of highly exclusive pre-formed social cliques, and naturally, face the mighty challenge of infiltrating those very cliques.
But we Febs seem to have managed alright. Months before I came to school I logged onto a social networking website, still in its nascent stages, what was then known as “thefacebook.com”, and learned that my fellow febs were a remarkably talented group. Most spent their fall semesters involved in myriad passions often in far off places. One feb created an SAT video series while in Berkeley, California, another was in a knife fight in central America (and lived to tell the tale), two more worked on vineyards in Italy, and another at an orphanage in Romania. Some became EMT’s, others bartenders, some traveled extensively, others held simple jobs at home, some even studied in different schools. Each one of us took some time to do something before we started at Middlebury.
Febs are often remarked upon for their strong leadership skills. We traditionally hold a disproportionate number of the leadership positions on campus (or at least that’s what we’re told…usually by other febs). I don’t think there’s any coincidence between the character building and perspective gaining experiences febs have before they come to school—whether they be across the ocean or across the street— and their successful leadership and achievement in their college careers. This class is no exception:
We have academic leaders: A Rhodes Scholar finalist, a Pickering Fellow, and last years Salutatorian was a Feb, but was too smart to stick around any longer. We should be proud of our countless hours at work on senior theses and other culminating projects.
Febs dominate the club scene, and not just at the Bunker. The Roosevelt Institution was founded by members of this class as was Mondegreen Magazine. The Middlebury Campus and MCAB were both run by Febs. Judicial board? You guessed it, Febs.
This class has contributed much to the arts—from this very stage to Wright theatre and the Zoo to the galleries of Johnson and CFA. We have leaders of each and every acapella group. And of course athletics. Febs contributed to the National Championship soccer team, the NESCAC championship football, golf and lax teams, and the nearly unbeatable field hockey team. But perhaps most commendable are how very few of us took part in that muggle wizardry down on Battell Beach.
Taking time off when we were 18 or 19 years old and doing something a little different before we went off to college is not responsible for all of our class’s successes. But I would wager that it definitely helped us to succeed. Having one extra college summer hasn’t hurt either. Knowing how to take your time and slow down your journey, and knowing that in so doing you’re only expanding your journey, is a rare and valuable awareness. Avoiding the damage of haste and taking time for yourself can be difficult, but it’s essential.
Just eleven days ago we watched as Barack Obama was sworn into Office. Obama is the fifth youngest person to assume the US presidency. In his first years out of college he choose to follow his passion for helping those in great need and worked as a community organizer in Chicago’s south side. He was in no rush to follow a fixed path to law or government, but he did an end up a very successful lawyer and by most accounts a pretty successful politician—his early experiences in Chicago profoundly informed his later successes.
Our youngest ever president was Teddy Roosevelt, who, by my calculations, left office 99 years and 11 months ago this week. I always got the feeling that if TR hadn’t gone to Harvard, he would have been an ES major at Midd…and probably a Feb as well. An avid outdoorsman and naturalist, Roosevelt spent his years after College ranching in the Badlands of the Dakota Territory. He drove cattle, hunted big game and even chased outlaws up the Missouri river. Any good historian will tell you that riding, roping, hunting and chasing outlaws, especially in water, was exactly what Roosevelt did as President.
Do what you like and work to discover the things you love. Take comfort in the fact that what you truly love will be what you’re best at. Therefore, do your best to surround yourself with people and things you love.
In a few short minutes we’ll shuffle into school busses and head to the snowbowl where we’ll ski out of Middlebury, down the Allen slope, back, into the loving embrace of our families. And for many of us, we’ll continue the descent back into our parents’ basements. As we fittingly descend down a ski slope from this the “college on the hill”, remember first not to ski straight down the mountain—not only would you be brazenly shunning the whole message of this speech but you’d also be putting yourself and others in serious danger. And second, remember to stop and think about how glad you are that you took time. Don’t forget that lesson that you’ve learned so well here at Middlebury. Take your time to for a few seconds, a few months, a few years; you’ll be glad you did. Congratulations Graduates. Go well!