By President Richard Cook
May 11, 2008
Thank you Board Chair Nelson and Professor Seddig for your kind sentiments. Words aren't adequate to express my profound appreciation for this extraordinary honor. Never once did I ever imagine such an occasion. When Dean of the College Linda DeMeritt told me earlier this semester that the faculty and board of trustees had voted to award me an Honorary Doctorate from Allegheny, I was stunned and speechless.
My twelve years at Allegheny College have been a truly amazing experience, both professionally and personally. I mean it when I say that any success attributed to me could not have been possible without the talent, dedication, and good will of faculty, staff, trustees, alumni, students, my family, and many others. I accept this honor on their behalf. My deepest thanks for your kindness and generosity.
There is one more person I would like to recognize, someone who has been a constant companion and guide—my wife, Terry.
As you know, we had intended that Dr. Robert Vukovich would deliver our Commencement address today. Now look who you have to settle for! At least I had a few days' warning—imagine the plight of a president under whom I once served who was drafted into similar service literally at the last minute when the commencement speaker did not show up and was never heard from again!
Cartoonist Garry Trudeau once said that:
Commencement speeches were invented largely in the belief that outgoing college students should never be released into the world until they have been properly sedated.
I now have attended commencement ceremonies for 35 consecutive years, and I have occasionally found truth in that assertion. I very much want to avoid being an example of it!
The night after learning of Dr. Vukovich's inability to join us as planned, I had an inspiring dream about the remarks I would make on this occasion. In my dream, three words came to me with great clarity: brief, memorable, meaningful. Then came a flow of words almost faster than I could comprehend.
The address would surely be, in all modesty, brilliant—or at least so I believed at the time of my dream. When I fully awoke in the morning, I could remember nothing but those initial three words in the dream—brief, memorable, meaningful. Let me build from that.
Brief is a great start, and that is under my control. You will be relieved to know that I intend to follow that guideline today. I am mindful that the Class of 2008 is our largest ever, and it will take more time than usual to present the degrees.
Memorable isn't too difficult either—all one has to do is something silly. For example, one thing that I am confident will be remembered by the faculty and staff who were here at the time occurred during my very first Commencement at Allegheny. As I recited the formal conferral of degrees upon the graduating class, from force of twenty-three years' habit, I began to say the name of my former college instead of Allegheny. I daresay that this is all that anyone who was here that day remembers from that Commencement—a humbling thought as I stand before you today.
Brief…memorable…those are relatively easy. Meaningful is much more difficult because so much of that is up to you. Most commencement speakers give advice on how to succeed. Permit me to take the opposite tack and suggest to you five approaches to life that are likely to cause you to fail to reach your full potential:
First, you will likely sell yourself short if you surround yourself with like-minded people and comfortable, familiar ideas, settings, and experiences.
As uncomfortable as it can sometimes be, I usually have found that I learn much more when I read books and articles that challenge my ideas and beliefs or when I am in the company of others who do. If you don't experience at least occasional discomfort or frustration in these activities, you are likely reinforcing what you want to believe rather than learning why you believe it.
Second, you will likely sell yourself short if you focus on getting the things you want rather than on the person you want to be.
As Terry and I prepare to depart Allegheny College and Meadville by packing our things and saying our goodbyes, the process has reminded us again and again that objects, titles, and awards—no matter how wonderful—are not nearly as precious as are meaningful relationships and memories of time well spent.
Third, you will likely sell yourself short if you lose your idealism and give up on trying to improve your community, your country, and our world.
At a meeting years ago, an older, revered faculty colleague—an English professor and poet—was accused by another faculty member of being naively idealistic. Without delay or apology, he retorted, "But I have built an entire life from being naively idealistic." I have never forgotten that moment because it summed up in a nutshell what it was about him that made him so special and respected.
Fourth, you will likely sell yourself short if you defer living fully until you reach a certain set of circumstances or attain some preconceived notion of success.
As John Lennon once wrote, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." There is considerable truth in that. I have seldom regretted taking time to experience things that would prove to make days memorable and distinct. Those opportunities often come at inconvenient times. I will never forget how difficult it was for me to set aside pressing work in graduate school to jump in a car with friends and drive for several hours to reach the path of a total solar eclipse—a rare and remarkable experience. I recall it distinctly to this day. On the other hand, I have absolutely no recollection of what the pressing project was that nearly kept me from this once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Fifth, you will, without a doubt, sell yourself short if you compromise your integrity.
The veteran faculty and staff here today would be surprised if I didn't touch on this final point because I have at every other Commencement. Pulitzer Prize-winning newspaper columnist William Raspberry once said at a commencement I attended, "The time to worry about your reputation is before you have one." I never forgot that, and I hope you won't either. If you lack integrity, nothing else really matters. If you have any doubts about what is right, you might ask yourself, "What would my mother think?"
In closing, let me summarize my thoughts this way; here are five "don'ts":
An Allegheny College education has prepared you not just for the next step in your life but for every step. You have learned how to learn, to be curious, to build relationships, to align your actions with a moral compass, and to make yourselves and the world better. May you use those tools to live a fruitful and satisfying life.
It has been my honor to serve as president of this extraordinary college for the past twelve years and to be in the company of and in partnership with truly remarkable people. Thank you for making this day and my entire time at Allegheny College memorable and meaningful for me. My best wishes always to the graduates and to my friends and colleagues.
