初中励志三分钟英语演讲稿范文（精选34篇）
Two weeks ago, I was in Spain. I made a pilgrimage to visit the home of one my great heroes, the Catalan cellist Pablo Casals. He was 97 years old when I was a freshman in college. He had lived through World War I, the Spanish Civil War, World War II.
I was so lucky to have played for him when I was 7 years old. He said I was talented. His advice to me then: Make sure you have time to play baseball.
And I’ll let you imagine how that might have worked out.
But in reality, that wise counsel, “to make time for baseball,” was a profound reflection of the philosophy that motivated his life. Casals always thought of himself as a human being first, as a musician second, and only then a cellist. It’s a philosophy that I’ve held close to my heart for most of my own life.
Now, I had always known Casals as a great advocate for human dignity. But standing in his home two weeks ago, I understood what it meant for him to live that philosophy, what it meant for him to be a human being first. I began to understand just a few of the thousands of actions he took every day, every month. Each was in the service of his fellow human beings.
I saw letters of protest he wrote to newspapers from London to Tokyo. I saw meticulous, handwritten accounts of his enormous financial contributions to countless refugees fleeing the carnage of the Spanish Civil War – evidence of a powerful, humanistic life.
Graduates of the great Dartmouth Class of 20xx, congratulations! Revel in this moment. It is a milestone.
And to the friends and family members gathered to share in this happy occasion, we celebrate you, too, for the love and support you’ve provided to the graduates during their Dartmouth journey!
In this 250th year of our beloved College, nostalgia fills our hearts for our cherished Dartmouth traditions: first-year trips, the homecoming bonfire, Winter Carnival. But today, with the incomparable Yo-Yo Ma in the house, I want to talk about another storied Dartmouth tradition: the arts.
The arts have been alive at Dartmouth from the earliest days of the College. Our very first Commencement exercises in 1771 featured an “anthem” composed and set to music and performed by the graduating class. Don’t worry, ’19s – composing an original song is no longer a requirement for earning your degree.
The very next year, 1772, featured the first play put on by Dartmouth students, organized by none other than John Ledyard.
The obscenity of apartheid came to an end. A young generation in Belfast and London have grown up without ever having to think about IRA bombs. In just the past 16 years, we’ve come from a world without marriage equality to one where it’s a reality in nearly two dozen countries. Around the world, more people live in democracies. We’ve lifted more than 1 billion people from extreme poverty. We’ve cut the child mortality rate worldwide by more than half.
America is better. The world is better. And stay with me now – race relations are better since I graduated. That’s the truth. No, my election did not create a post-racial society. I don’t know who was propagating that notion. That was not mine. But the election itself – and the subsequent one – because the first one, folks might have made a mistake. (Laughter.) The second one, they knew what they were getting. The election itself was just one indicator of how attitudes had changed.
The thing that was a source of shame was actually a source of enlightenment.And when I realized and really understood that my self is a projection and that it has a function, a funny thing happened. I stopped giving it so much authority. I give it its due. I take it to therapy. I've become very familiar with its dysfunctional behavior. But I'm not ashamed of my self. In fact, I respect my self and its function. And over time and with practice, I've tried to live more and more from my essence. And if you can do that, incredible things happen.I was in Congo in February, dancing and celebrating with women who've survived the destruction of their selves in literally unthinkable ways -- destroyed because other brutalized,
It is not death most people are afraid of.It is getting to the end of life, only to realize that you never truly lived.There was a study done, a hospital study on 100 elderly people facing death close to their last breath. They were asked to reflect about their life’s biggest regret. Nearly all of them said they regretted not the things they did but the things they didn't do.The risks they never took the dreams they didn’t pursue.I ask you would your last words be; if only I had – hey, you wake up.Why do you exist? Life is not meant to simply work, wait for the weekend and pay rent. No, no I don’t know much. But I know this: every person on this earth has a gift.And I apologized to the black community but I can no longer pretend Martin Luther King. That man never had a dream, that dream had him. See people don't choose dreams, dreams choose them. So the question I’m getting to is, do you have the courage to grab the dream that picked you? That befit you and grips you; or will you let it get away and slip through?
Third, we will support our most powerful allies – governors, mayors, and legislators – in their pursuit of ambitious policies and laws. And we will empower the grassroots army of activists and environmental groups that are currently driving progress state by state.
Together, we will push for new incentives and mandates that increase renewable power, pollution-free buildings, waste-free energy, access to mass transit, and sales of electric vehicles, which are now turning the combustion engine – and all of its pollution – into a relic of the Industrial Revolution.
Fourth, and finally, we will get deeply involved in elections across the country, because climate change is now first and foremost a political problem, not a scientific quandary or even a technological puzzle.
Now, I know that, as scientists and engineers, “politics” can be a dirty word. I’m an engineer – I get it. But I’m also a realist, so I have three words for you: get over it.
At other places, but I’m happy to say not yet at Purdue, students have demanded to be kept, quote, “safe” from speech, that is, mere words, that challenge or discomfit them. At one large university, one, quote, “study”, I enclose it in quotes, purported to find a quarter of the student body suffering from PTSD because of an election outcome. Referring to such young people, someone has coined the distasteful but descriptive term “snowflakes.”
Some find a cause in the social media, which have reduced personal interaction among your younger contemporaries. Easier grading in high schools can lead to an unexpected jolt when a student arrives at college, at least if it’s a place like Purdue where top grades are still hard to come by. Another diagnosis points to overprotective parenting that limits some children’s opportunities to play and explore in unsupervised ways that require them to solve problems and resolve conflicts on their own.
psychopathic selves all over that beautiful land are fueling our selves' addiction to iPods, Pads, and bling, which further disconnect ourselves from ever feeling their pain, their suffering, their death.Because, hey, if we're all living in ourselves and mistaking it for life, then we're devaluing and desensitizing life. And in that disconnected state, yeah, we can build factory farms with no windows, destroy marine life and use rape as a weapon of war. So here's a note to self: The cracks have started to show in our constructed world, and oceans will continue to surge through the cracks, and oil and blood, rivers of it.
You’ve been very lucky, seriously, to study at a place that attracts some of the brightest minds in the world. And during your time here, MIT has extended his tradition of groundbreaking research and innovation. Most of you were here when LIGO proved that Einstein was right about gravitational waves, something that I – as a Johns Hopkins engineering graduate – claimed all along.
And just this spring, MIT scientists and astronomers helped to capture the first-ever image of a black hole.
Those really are incredible accomplishments at MIT. And they are especially incredible when you consider that the Wi-Fi barely works here.
For God’s sakes, how many PhDs did it take to plug in a router?
But really, all of you are a part of an amazing institution that has proven – time and time again – that human knowledge and achievement is limitless. In fact, this is the place that proved moonshots are worth taking.
50 years ago this month – or next month, I guess it is – the Apollo 11 lunar module touched down on the moon. It’s fair to say the crew never would have gotten there without MIT. And I don’t just mean that because Buzz Aldrin was class of ‘63 here, and took Richard Battin’s famous astrodynamics course. As Chairman Millard mentioned, the Apollo 11 literally got there thanks to its navigation and control systems that were designed right here at what is now the Draper Laboratory.
Successfully putting a man on the moon required solving so many complex problems. How to physically guide a spacecraft on a half-million-mile journey was arguably the biggest one, and your fellow alums and professors solved it by building a one-cubic-foot computer at the time when computers were giant machines that filled whole rooms.
The only reason those MIT engineers even tried to build that computer in the first place was that they had been asked to help do something that people thought was either impossible or unnecessary.
Going to the moon was not a popular idea back in the 1960s. And Congress didn’t want to pay for it. Imagine that – a Congress that didn’t want to invest in science. Go figure – that would never happen today.
Now, to the Class of 20xx: I want to express just how proud we are of all that you have accomplished during your time at Stanford, and of all the hard work that brought you to this stadium this morning.
Today, we will award 1,792 bachelor’s degrees, 2,389 master’s degrees, and 1,038 doctoral degrees.
For those students who are receiving bachelor’s degrees:
· 313 will graduate with departmental honors and 301 with university distinction.
· 106 have satisfied the requirements of more than one major and 33 are graduating with dual bachelor’s degrees.
· 451 of our seniors completed minors and 201 will graduate with both a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree.
As Stanford is proud to enroll students from all around the globe, many of our international students will receive their degrees today as well:
162 members of our undergraduate class hail from 55 countries and 79 countries are represented by the 1,077 international students who will receive their master’s and doctoral degrees.
Now, all the numbers I have cited illustrate the tremendous accomplishments of Stanford’s graduates and their potential to have a positive impact on our world.
Graduates, during your time at Stanford, our faculty and staff have dedicated themselves to nurturing that potential in each of you. And I want to take this moment to thank them for their ongoing support and encouragement.
Saying goodbye to childhood,we step into another important time in the pace of young,facing new situations,dealing with different problems……everyone has his ownunderstanding of young,it is a period of time of beauty and wonders,only after you have experienced the sour ,sweet ,bitter and salty can you really become a person of significance.thre time of young is limitted,it may pass by without your attention,and when you discover what has happened ,it is always too late.grasping the young well means a better time is waiting for you in the near future,or the situation may be opposite .
Around the world, we’ve still got challenges to solve that threaten everybody in the 21st century – old scourges like disease and conflict, but also new challenges, from terrorism and climate change.
So, make no mistake, Class of 20xx – you’ve got plenty of work to do. But as complicated and sometimes intractable as these challenges may seem, the truth is that your generation is better positioned than any before you to meet those challenges, to flip the script.
Now, how you do that, how you meet these challenges, how you bring about change will ultimately be up to you. My generation, like all generations, is too confined by our own experience, too invested in our own biases, too stuck in our ways to provide much of the new thinking that will be required. But us old-heads have learned a few things that might be useful in your journey. So with the rest of my time, I’d like to offer some suggestions for how young leaders like you can fulfill your destiny and shape our collective future – bend it in the direction of justice and equality and freedom.
Throughout our history, Dartmouth faculty and graduates have had an outsized impact on the world of the arts. Frost, Geisel, and Orozco in early times; Pilobolus, Romero, Kaling, Rhimes, and Arad in more recent years, just to name a few. And as Gail and I have attended your student concerts and plays, visited your studio art installations, and enjoyed the works of aspiring authors and poets on campus, we actually see the future of Dartmouth’s impact on the art world.
At the end of World War II, the famed School for American Craftsmen was born right here on the Dartmouth campus. And in 1962, Dartmouth pioneered a new model for performing arts centers across all of higher education with the opening of the Hop. Not long after, the Dartmouth theater department served as the earliest pathway for women on this campus, some of whom are seated amongst you today as proudly adopted members of the Class of 1969.
And today, the Hop, the Black Family Visual Arts Center, and our newly reimagined Hood Museum of Art together serve as the epicenter of artistic creation and expression on our campus and an incredible source of fulfillment for all of us.
Let’s do that again. 20xx, hold for applause.
20xx! Wow! I never thought I’d see 20xx. I thought perhaps the Mayan calendar would prove correct. And the end of the world would have been the greatest excuse to get me out of this terrifying task of delivering the commencement speech. But wait! According to the Mayan calendar here, when does the world end? December — December 20xx. Damn!
Okay. Maybe I shouldn’t talk to the graduates eager to start their new lives about the end of the world. Okay. Really? Really?
Of all the novelists, teachers, playwrights, poets, groundbreaking visual artists and pioneers of science, you got the TV actor. No, no, and I actually heard you petitioned for me. Oh, you fools!
You know what, for those of you who didn’t petition for me, I would love to later on talk about the problems in the Middle East and the downfall of the world economy. And for those of you who did petition for me, I don’t have any signed DVDs of the Game of Thrones. But I am happy to talk about the parallel lineages of the Targaryens and Lannisters later at the bar.
You see, it took all of my strength, and, of course, a little extra push from my wife Erica for me to agree to do this. Because I don’t do this. In my profession, I am told by people who know what they’re doing, where to stand, how to look, and most importantly, what to say. But you’ve got me — only me — my words unedited and as you will see quite embarrassing.
So graduates, this is the moment. Please cheer and wave! No, wait, wait. I’m pretty sure you have taken physics and electricity – so you must know something about amplification. So let’s try this again. And remember, I still have your diplomas. So one more time, let’s cheer and wave.
Thank you. It’s truly great to have all of you here on Killian Court, on this wonderful day, for this tremendously important occasion.
But before we send our new graduates out into the world, first, I must beg your indulgence on behalf of my wife. Christine Reif is a wonderful person. In fact, she’s sitting right there. But she has one weakness: She’s crazy about astronauts and about outer space.
As you just heard by the commencement speaker, July 20 of this year marks 50 years since the first human walked on the moon. For those of you graduating, I know this is ancient history – your parents’ history, maybe your grandparents’ history. So perhaps not all of you have been focused on the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11.
But because Mrs. Reif also loves the Institute, she has asked that, in addition to giving you a charge, I also prepare you for a mission.
At least for the foreseeable future, winning the battle against climate change will depend less on scientific advancement and more on political activism.
And that’s why Beyond Carbon includes political spending that will mobilize voters to go to the polls and support candidates who actually are taking action on something that could end life on Earth as we know it. At the same time, we will defeat at the voting booth those who try to block action and those who pander with rhetoric that just kicks the can down the road.
Our message to elected officials will be simple: face reality on climate change or face the music on Election Day. Our lives and our children’s lives depend on it – and so should their political careers.
Now, most of America will experience a net increase in jobs as we move to renewable energy sources and reduction in pollution. But in some places, jobs are being lost – we know that, and we can’t leave those communities behind.
For example, generations of miners powered America to greatness – and many paid for it with their lives and their health. But today, they need our help to change with technology and the economy.
And while it is up to the federal government to make those investments, Beyond Carbon will continue our foundation’s work to show that progress really is possible. So…it certainly does deserve a round of applause. So we will support local organizations in Appalachia and the Western mountain states, and work to spur economic growth, and retrain workers for jobs in growing industries.
At 19, I was just happy to have a job. But later through experience, trial, failure, I realized my true purpose was to be a force for good, to allow people to be themselves. so that becomes my legacy. I remember when I finished the [Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy for Girls] school, and I went to my friend Maya Angelou’s house, and Maya was making biscuits and teaching me to make the biscuits. I said "I’m so sorry you weren’t able to be there to see the school open..it’s going to be my greatest legacy.” And she put down what she was making and said “Baby, you have no idea what your legacy will be, because your legacy is every life that you touch.”
And that I repeat everywhere, because it’s true. It’s not one thing, it’s everything, and the most important thing is how you touch other people’s lives. Every day, you’re carving out the path, even when it looks like you’re not. Every action is creating equal and opposite reactions. How you think and what you do is being done unto you—that is my religion, I live by that. That is creating a blessed and spectacular life.
But there’s even more to strength than muscle, smarts and character. For the last few years, the air has been filled with studies, surveys, and books reporting a growing “fragility” among American young people, a decreasing capability to handle even modest stress or setbacks without seeking some sort of adult assistance. The number of college students requesting counseling or therapy has doubled in just four or five years.
Even though I went to a school up the river, for today’s address, I wanted to feel what it was like to be a student here at MIT. So on my way over here, I walked through the Infinite Corridor and elbowed my way through 100 tourists. Did they know that Matt Damon doesn’t actually work here as a janitor, right?
Last night, I also paid a visit to one of this university’s most iconic places – the Muddy. I told the graduates there that I had some good news and some bad news. The bad news was I won’t be repaying your entire classes student loans. Sorry. But I told them the good news was I would be picking up the tab for the next round of drinks. That seemed to help matters.
As excited as all you are today, there’s another group here that is beaming with pride and that deserves a big round of applause – your parents and your families. Some of them are sitting out there thinking, our kids are getting a degree from the world’s most prestigious engineering school, and yet when they come home, they don’t seem to know how to use the washer/dryer?
Now, a lot of you – the vast majority – won’t find yourselves in tech at all. That’s as it should be. We need your minds at work far and wide, because our challenges are great, and they can’t be solved by any single industry.
No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I know you will be ambitious. You wouldn’t be here today if you weren’t. Match that ambition with humility – a humility of purpose.
That doesn’t mean being tamer, being smaller, being less in what you do. It’s the opposite, it’s about serving something greater. The author Madeleine L’Engle wrote, “Humility is throwing oneself away in complete concentration on something or someone else.”
In other words, whatever you do with your life, be a builder.
You don’t have to start from scratch to build something monumental. And, conversely, the best founders – the ones whose creations last and whose reputations grow rather than shrink with passing time – they spend most of their time building, piece by piece.
Builders are comfortable in the belief that their life’s work will one day be bigger than them – bigger than any one person. They’re mindful that its effects will span generations. That’s not an accident. In a way, it’s the whole point.
When the door was busted open by police, it was not the knock of opportunity or the call of destiny. It was just another instance of the world telling them that they ought to feel worthless for being different.
I really want to live in a world where disability is not the exception, but the norm. I want to live in a world where a 15-year-old girl sitting in her bedroom watching "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" isn't referred to as achieving anything because she's doing it sitting down. I want to live in a world where we don't have such low expectations of disabled people that we are congratulated for getting out of bed and remembering our own names in the morning. I want to live in a world where we value genuine achievement for disabled people, and I want to live in a world where a kid in year 11 in a Melbourne high school is not one bit surprised that his new teacher is a wheelchair user. Disability doesn't make you exceptional, but questioning what you think you know about it does. Thank you.
Experts offer various explanations for this surge. Clearly, more perceptive diagnosis of real mental illness is a factor, and a highly positive one. It seems just yesterday when, working in the business that brought the world the first highly safe and effective antidepressant, I took part in a huge worldwide effort to destigmatize depression, schizophrenia, and related illnesses. We must and will do all we can to find those among us who suffer from these soul-searing, treatable diseases and bring them effective help.
But, the data say, something broader is going on. As one scholar has written, “There has been an increase in diagnosable mental health problems, but also a decrease in the ability of many young people to manage the everyday bumps in the road of life.”
Thank you so much, everybody. Please, please, have a seat. Oh, I feel important now. Got a degree from Howard. Cicely Tyson said something nice about me. (Laughter.)
Audience Member: I love you, President!
President Barack Obama: I love you back.
To President Frederick, the Board of Trustees, faculty and staff, fellow recipients of honorary degrees, thank you for the honor of spending this day with you. And congratulations to the Class of 20xx! (Applause.) Four years ago, back when you were just freshmen, I understand many of you came by my house, the night I was reelected. (Laughter.) So I decided to return the favor and come by yours.
To the parents, the grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, all the family and friends who stood by this class, cheered them on, helped them get here today – this is your day, as well. Let’s give them a big round of applause, as well. (Applause.)
I’m not trying to stir up any rivalries here; I just want to see who’s in the house. We got Quad? (Applause.) Annex. (Applause.) Drew. Carver. Slow. Towers. And Meridian. (Applause.) Rest in peace, Meridian. (Laughter.) Rest in peace.
I know you’re all excited today. You might be a little tired, as well. Some of you were up all night making sure your credits were in order. (Laughter.) Some of you stayed up too late, ended up at HoChi at 2:00 a.m. (Laughter.) Got some mambo sauce on your fingers. (Laughter.)
In just the four years that you’ve been here at the Farm, things feel like they have taken a sharp turn.
Crisis has tempered optimism. Consequences have challenged idealism. And reality has shaken blind faith.
And yet we are all still drawn here.
For good reason.
Big dreams live here, as do the genius and passion to make them real. In an age of cynicism, this place still believes that the human capacity to solve problems is boundless.
But so, it seems, is our potential to create them.
That’s what I’m interested in talking about today. Because if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that technology doesn’t change who we are, it magnifies who we are, the good and the bad.
Our problems – in technology, in politics, wherever – are human problems. From the Garden of Eden to today, it’s our humanity that got us into this mess, and it’s our humanity that’s going to have to get us out.
First things first, here’s a plain fact.
Silicon Valley is responsible for some of the most revolutionary inventions in modern history.
From the first oscillator built in the Hewlett-Packard garage to the iPhones that I know you’re holding in your hands.
Social media, shareable video, snaps and stories that connect half the people on Earth. They all trace their roots to Stanford’s backyard.
But lately, it seems, this industry is becoming better known for a less noble innovation: the belief that you can claim credit without accepting responsibility.
Today, I believe that we are living in a similar moment. And once again, we’ll be counting on MIT graduates – all of you – to lead us.
But this time, our most important and pressing mission – your generation’s mission – is not to explore deep space and reach faraway places. It is to save our own planet, the one that we’re living on, from climate change. And unlike 1962, the primary challenge before you is not scientific or technological. It is political.
The fact is we’ve already pioneered the technology to tackle climate change. We know how to power buildings using sun and wind. We know how to power vehicles using batteries charged with renewable energy. We know how to power factories and industries using hydrogen and fuel cells. And we know that these innovations don’t require us to sacrifice financially or economically. Just the opposite, these investments, on balance, create jobs and save money.
Yes, all of those power sources need to be brought to scale – and that will require further scientific innovation, which we need you to help lead. But the question isn’t how to tackle climate change. We’ve known how to do that for many years. The question is: why the hell are we moving so slowly?
The race we are in is against time, and we are losing. And with each passing year, it becomes clearer just how far behind we’ve fallen, and how fast the situation is deteriorating, and how tragic the results can be.
They wanted Stanford’s faculty, students, and staff to pursue knowledge and excellence not just as ends in themselves, but for the sake of humanity and the world.
I’ve often wondered what motivated the Stanfords to place this greater purpose at the heart of our university.
I think I got a clue recently, when, in January, I visited the Stanford Family Collection at the Cantor Arts Center.
Jane and Leland Stanford were some of the most influential citizens of California in the late 19th century, and the Cantor holds a number of artifacts relating to their lives. The collection also includes some childhood journals that belonged to their son, Leland Stanford Jr.
Reading these journals was, to me, a revelation. They are a record of Leland Junior’s childhood studies and interests: from arithmetic practice to sketches and photography.
But what truly leaps from the pages is Leland Junior’s extraordinary curiosity.
He was learning and absorbing everything he could about the world. Though he was just in his early teens, he had ambitions in anthropology and history and art. And he was fascinated by other cultures.
He spent his time studying and reflecting on contemporary and historical objects – from fossils to armor, to buildings and monuments, to the ruins of ancient temples.
You know I learned a fact about airplanes the other day. This was – this was so surprising to see, I was talking to a pilot and he told me that many of his passengers think planes are dangerous to fly in. But he said actually, it is a lot more dangerous for a plane to stay on the ground. I say what? Like how does that sound what he said, he said because on the ground, the plane starts to rust.Malfunction and wear, much faster than it ever would if it was in the air. As I walked away I thought, yeah, makes total sense because planes were built to live in the skies. And every person was built to live out the dream they have inside. So it is perhaps the saddest loss to live a life on the ground without ever taking off.
We see it every day now, with every data breach, every privacy violation, every blind eye turned to hate speech. Fake news poisoning our national conversation. The false miracles in exchange for a single drop of your blood. Too many seem to think that good intentions excuse away harmful outcomes.
But whether you like it or not, what you build and what you create define who you are.
It feels a bit crazy that anyone should have to say this. But if you’ve built a chaos factory, you can’t dodge responsibility for the chaos. Taking responsibility means having the courage to think things through.
And there are few areas where this is more important than privacy.
If we accept as normal and unavoidable that everything in our lives can be aggregated, sold, or even leaked in the event of a hack, then we lose so much more than data.
We lose the freedom to be human.
See most of us are afraid of the thief, they comes in the night to steal all of our things. But there is a thief in your mind who is after your dreams. His name is doubt.If you see him call the cops and keep him away from the kids because he is wanted for murder. So he has killed more dreams than failure ever did. He wears many disguises and like a virus will leave you blinded, divided and turn you into a kinda.See kinda is lethal. You know what kinda is? There is a lot of kinda people, you kinda want a career change, you kinda want to get straight As, you kinda want to get in shape. Simple math, no numbers to crunch. If you kinda want something, then you will kinda get the results you want.
The truth is, success is a process—you can ask anybody who’s been successful. I just passed on the lane up here here, successful restauranteur Danny Meyer, who’s sitting here with his family—Charles is graduating today. Ask Danny or anybody who’s successful, you go to any one of his restaurants—Shake Shack, love it!—Union Square Cafe, Gramercy Tavern—you will be impressed by not only the food, but the radical hospital and service. Service is not just about when you’re getting served.
When I started my talk show, I was just so happy to be on television. I was so happy to interview members of the Ku Klux Klan. I thought I was interviewing them to show their vitriol to the world, and then I saw them using hand signals in the audience—and realized they were using me, and using my platform. Then we did a show where someone was embarrassed, and I was responsible for the embarrassment. We had somehow talked a man who was cheating on his wife to come on the show with the woman he was cheating with and, on live television, he told his wife that his girlfriend was pregnant. That happened on mywatch.
Shortly after I said: I’m not gonna do that again. How can I use this show to not just be a show, but allow it to be a service to the viewer? That question of "How do we serve the viewer?" transformed the show. And because we asked that question every single day from 1989 forward—with the intention of only doing what was in service to the people who were watching—that is why now, no matter where I go in the world, people say "I watched your show, it changed my life." People watched and were raised by that show. I did a good job of raising a lot of people, I must say. That happened because of an intention to be of service.
Instead of challenging Americans to believe in our ability to master the universe, as President Kennedy did, the current administration is pandering to the skeptics who, in the 1960s, looked at the space program and only saw short-term costs and long-term benefits.
President Kennedy’s era earned the nickname, ‘The Greatest Generation’ – not only because they persevered through the Great Depression and won the Second World War. They earned it because of determination to rise, to pioneer, to innovate, and to fulfill the promise of American freedom.
They dreamed in moonshots. They reached for the stars. And they began to redeem – through the Civil Rights Movement – the failures of the past. They set the standard for leadership and service to our nation’s ideals.
Now, your generation has the opportunity to join them in the history books. The challenge that lies before you – stopping climate change – is unlike any other ever faced by humankind. The stakes could not be higher.
If left unchecked, the climate change crisis threatens to destroy oceanic life that feeds so many people on this planet. It threatens to breed war by spreading drought and hunger. It threatens to sink coastal communities, devastate farms and businesses, and spread disease.
To the family members and friends of our Stanford graduates, I say “thank you,” as well, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for entrusting your loved ones to our university in their time here, and thank you for all that you have done to ensure their success.
It’s now my pleasure to turn the program over to Stanford’s Provost Persis Drell, who will present the winners of the University’s awards. Well, thank you, Provost Drell.
It’s one of my great honors, as Stanford’s president, to address our graduating class on Commencement day.
Class of 20xx, your years at Stanford have been a time of intellectual exploration, remarkable accomplishment, and extraordinary hard work and dedication.
Today, we honor everything that you have achieved during your time at Stanford, and we celebrate as you embark on the next stage of your journey.
Today’s ceremony marks the conclusion of your time as Stanford students. But I have great hope that, here at Stanford, you have acquired the tools and skills to remain learners for life. And even as you leave our campus behind, you will forever remain a cherished part of our Stanford family.
This is my third Commencement as Stanford’s president.
Since I returned to Stanford three years ago, I have been reflecting on the fact that Jane and Leland Stanford founded this university with a specific purpose – namely, to promote the public welfare by exercising an influence on behalf of humanity.
While data, evidence, logic, and reason provide one way to make sense of the world, the arts provide another: a distinct, yet complimentary mode of understanding oneself and experiencing the world, beyond facts and figures. Engagement with the arts has been shown to elevate resilience in the face of change, empathy and understanding of others, and capacity to solve problems.
And in today’s volatile world, having a well-developed creative capacity, in addition to strong analytic skills, is paramount. In fact, a 20xx World Economic Forum report placed creativity as one of the three most important work-related skills anticipated for 20xx.
So, my message to you today is simple: Never relinquish your paintbrush, your pen, your musical instrument, or any other creative tool at your disposal, because there is always another stroke, another stanza, another measure, another chapter in the work that will forever be known as you.
And when you see an opportunity to engage with the arts, or to support the arts, embrace it with all you’ve got.
As you heard earlier, just over on that side of Killian Court, showing off their spectacular red jackets are more than 170 members of the class of 1969. Apollo 11, as you heard, landed on the moon a few weeks after their MIT graduation. A number of them went on to work in fields that were greatly…greatly accelerated by progress from Apollo 11. One of them is Irene Greif, the first woman to earn a PhD in computer science from MIT.
But I believe our 1969 graduates might all agree on the most important wisdom we gained from Apollo: It was the sudden intense understanding of our shared humanity and of the preciousness and fragility of our blue planet.
50 years later, those lessons feel more urgent than ever, and I believe that, as members of the great global family of MIT, we must do everything in our power to help make a better world. So it is in that spirit that I deliver my charge to you.
I’m going to use a word that feels very comfortable at MIT, although it has taken on a troubling new meaning elsewhere. But I know that our graduates will know what I mean.
After you depart for your new destinations, I want to ask you to hack the world until you make the world a little more like MIT – more daring and more passionate, more rigorous, inventive and ambitious, more humble, more respectful, more generous, more kind.
And because the people of MIT also like to fix things that are broken, as you strive to hack the world, please try to heal the world, too.