Wandering: Commencement / My Commencement Address

Saturday May 1, 2004, was my commencement at Berry College. For a week my classmates and I worried about the thunderstorms that were predicted to dampen (no pun intended) our ceremonies, but by 2:30 yesterday afternoon, the sun was shining and our graduation day was graced with beautiful, cloudless warm weather.

Commencement is an interesting time. I could blog for ages about all of the humor and good times associated with the arrival of all of my relatives Friday night and the excitement of my classmates in the preceding (and succeeding) days, but I will refrain. It is interesting to me, however, how we celebrate the passage of students from one stage of life to the next. They are herded together and recognixed, if only briefly, for their successes. They are showered with gifts and praise. It think it is good--but I must say, that I cannot imagine that period of time without my family. The school-wide moment of applause is nice, but the best part of commencement, without a doubt, is the interaction, one-on-one, with your closest family and friends. In the end, their happiness can outweigh all of the acclaim in the world.

I was lucky enough to be named student speaker for the ceremony, and the following is my commencement address. To preface the speech, I will note only this. Two weeks ago I was named NFA National Pentathlon Champion, which is kind of like best college speaker in the nation (all-around). They announced that at the ceremony before I spoke, and I knew they would, so I was under a great deal of pressure to perform. You can see why failure was my topic of choice.

Commencement Address Berry College, Spring 2004 John Coleman
Three nights ago I sat worriedly writing my goodbye to the graduates of 2004. This is an immense pressure. I knew Dean Carver would stand and pronounce my proficiency in public speaking and the thousands of parents in the audience would cross their arms and tritely respond “We’ll see about that.” I could deliver Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech while standing on my head and some people would still say that I sounded too much like a used car salesman or a slightly effeminate Pat Sajak. You see my predicament.

Yet as I tossed and turned, batting around speech titles like “My Redneck Jihad”, “Shalyn, Get off the Shed!”, and “Scott Colley, Man of Action”—I realized in a flash of light that this is precisely the kind of thing Berry has prepared me for. You see, beyond Economics, anthropology, and horticulture (oops, scratch that)—Berry has prepared me to fail.

Ahhh…I see I have your attention, but before donors withdraw their support and Dean Carver spears me off the front of the stage like an unruly Tennis partner, let me clarify. You see, failure is not the catastrophe you and I often envision. Rather it is a choice and an opportunity.

Everybody fails. As a boy, Thomas Edison’s teacher told him he was too stupid to learn anything. As a soldier, former president Abraham Lincoln entered the Blackhawk War a Captain, and came out a private. Ben Affleck made Gigli. And while you and I sit at the cusp of graduation, F. Scott Fitzgerald flunked college, Steven Spielberg was a high school drop-out, and Winston Churchill flunked the sixth grade. Never give up, never surrender, and never show the prime minister a complex fraction or he whimpers like a baby.

Yet these men were defined by the fact they recovered from their failures well, and they were brave enough to fail in the first place. As NASA Administrator Daniel Goldin commented in his commencement address at MIT, “Not experiencing any failure in your life isn’t a sign of perfection; rather it is a sign that your goals aren’t bold enough.” No one fails at sitting at home watching Oprah or lounging in Valhalla sipping Café Latte! No one fails while deer pegging or gawking at Britney Spears. People fail when they take chances that might be beyond their reach.

A few years ago, Michael Jordan had a commercial in which he addressed his failures. “I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career,” The Air Apparent declared. “I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over again in my life—and that is why I succeed.” Now I thought MJ excelled because he had a 50 inch vertical and a killer fade-away, but the mentality is right. You’re gonna fail. Do it, move on, and succeed.

That is what Berry has taught me. We are not Harvard or MIT. On occasion, we care more about intramural football than neo-platonic philosophy; but when we want something we seek it with an unmatched persistence. My fellow graduates, you may have failed the comp exam, Humanities 200, and freshmen chemistry, but you made it here today, and that is a testimony to your dedication and hard work. After graduation you may be broke and living in Dean Willis’s basement, but if you keep on working, there is nothing you can’t overcome to succeed.

I once told my friend Mike Rupert that the key to success was a simple motto, “Work hard and show up on time.” I think Martha Berry would have liked that. She hit people up for money so often that it was easier to donate than to turn her away. She founded a school based on the idea that tenacity could overcome poverty, that work could decimate ignorance, and that one did not need a history of success to prevent failure—only a history of dedication and loyalty.

Today, we celebrate a great accomplishment my friends. After 4, 5, or 6 years, we are finally free to progress to the next stage in life. But in the midst of this success never become timid. A failure is better than a missed opportunity. Take a few chances when you leave here. Some things are worth the risk. This school has provided you with one of the best educations on the planet, now force the rest of the world to realize that.

Thank you for the time my friends. You all know how much I love this school and how much each of you has meant to me. Maybe this isn’t the speech of a champion, but at least if I have failed, I can still count that as success.

Congratulations class of 2004.