An open letter to the Class of 2016:
Dear Graduates,
After all the homework assignments and projects, after tired mornings of rushing to find your misplaced gym uniform, after the exciting nights before field trips, after all those tests, basketball games and phone calls for missed assignments, after sick days and snow days, after all that paper — we find ourselves at the end. Only the chilled touch of experience can enlighten the past. However you feel at this moment or think of your memories in school, they cannot be qualified, known or felt until we have journeyed away and then years from this moment after more paper and assignments, after laughs with friends you have yet to meet, after more phone calls and more exciting days you can return to those intoxicating days of your upbringing to “know the place for the first time” (Eliot, Little Gidding). And what shall we look for in our recollections? To be honest, I have no idea. No, I cannot give you advice wizened by time. I was never a great student, so the only thing I can tell you, dear Class of 2016, is:
Go to the movies!
Preferably in black and white and, at times, by yourself. You will find as you grow older that watching great cinema is close to a religious experience. Through religious experiences you will find out that God loves you and is fascinated by you and is so excited by you. Love God back; learn to be just as excited and fascinated. This will be learned in a church and at a soup kitchen, while praying, looking into your child’s eyes or beholding our National Parks. If you can learn to kneel before God, you can stand before anyone.
To the Class of 2016: Admit shortcomings; they are your fault. Admit the shortcomings of others; they are not your fault. Remember where you’ve been, and it won’t matter where you’re going. Read Hamlet once before you leave high school or college. You won’t understand it. Then, read Hamlet again before you leave your twenties, and it will reveal more about yourself than you could ever imagine.
Also, remember that “hope, made wise by dread” is the single most powerful force in the world. Go to a museum on your birthday, when you have a child, bring them to a museum on their birthday. Read. Realize that this country’s treasures belong to you.
Young men of the Class of 2016: When buttoning a vest, never button the lowest button, no one can tell you why we men do this, but we’re men, we do lots of things no one understands.
Young women of the Class of 2016: Watch baseball. It will show you that nine guys standing around can actually accomplish something.
To the Class of 2016: Stay up and see the sunrise, but every now and then go to bed before the sun sets; remember to save your seemingly endless energy. Don’t forget it’s okay to cry — when you’re sad, when you’re happy, or watching the New York Mets play baseball. Someone wiser than me said that a person should know at least one magic trick. Though I do not know any magic tricks, I still think it’s a good idea.
Do something illogical — do something that scares you at least twice a year, but if this scary thing is zip lining in the Honduran jungle, make sure to wear sturdy and sensible shoes. Trust me. Learn the basic rules of gardening and fixing basic things around a house. Visit a foreign country as often as possible, get lost on purpose while walking in New York City, and never get lost on purpose while walking in Los Angeles.
Listen to great music — from Stravinsky to Miles Davis, from Opera to Hip Hop. Learn to listen to silence. Dance. See the desert at least once in your life. Love your country, even while at times being critical of it. Learn everything. Our Catholic tradition teaches that nothing is out of the conversation. Be open to ideas greater than yourself and people less fortunate than you. Eat your vegetables, preferably grilled. Mornings grow hot, evenings grow cold, so dress appropriately. Invest in a great blazer or sports coat. When it comes to hair, go big or go home.
And speaking of home, get to know your parents. You will find that they will be some of the most interesting people in the world. Understand that friends come and go, it’s okay and natural. Understand that siblings don’t come and go; hold on to them. Know that life is often a sad, terrible and hard thing, but it shouldn’t matter. Pain is refining, not defining; it is neither an excuse for inaction nor a barrier. Don’t forget to laugh— especially at yourself.
To the Class of 2016: Remember the poor. How they would love, knowingly or unknowingly, to be where you are. Do them proud and never lose sight of the great dignity and responsibility of learning. Your education gives you cause to change the world, not just live in it.
To the Class of 2016: Remember. Remember just when we thought the cold winter wind would never cease, the year would never end, we hardly noticed it, but the days got longer, the streets warmer, and just before we knew it, we almost never realized it, but the whole green world came rolling back. And maybe on a warm green evening like tonight, maybe years from now, you’ll find an extra ten dollars in your pocket, and on that day, perhaps you will think of us, your families — or where you are in your lives and where you’re going — perhaps you’ll go to escape, perhaps you’ll go to remember, but for whatever reason, go to the movies, and when the film wraps, you’ll open the doors to a world of bright, unbelievable possibility.
This possibility, of knowing that you are so deeply loved and that that love should be given away, was the point of your education, and when we realize this, then we shall know— “And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well” (Eliot, Gidding). Wherever you go we shall go, and wherever you are, also shall we be” (Ruth 1:16-7). To the Class of 2016, we love you.