Everyone Has A Commencement Speech To Give

Everyone has a commencement speech to give.  It sits in their head, or rests in their heart. 

Everyone has wisdom to impart, lessons to share, stories to tell, advice to give -- if only someone asked. 

Our Speaker Is...

Universities, colleges and other institutions tend to choose notable people from the community, distinguished alumni, reputable scholars or famous celebrities to deliver commencement addresses.  That makes sense.  These people should have loads of experience and advice -- or at least be entertaining. 

I like speechwriter Anthony Trendl's simple definition: 

"A commencement speech, simply, is an opportunity to share your experience, values and advice."

I have heard some very good speeches at commencements I attended.  My high school, St. Peter's Prep, always knew how to pick them. I have watched some on video because I appreciate a great speech -- and to this day I love Steve Jobs commencement address about three stories from his life (don't miss it). See some other classics in this collection on CNBC.

I have also heard some absolutely miserable commencement speeches where the only great lesson was "don't give a long, boring miserable speech in front of thousands of people."  At my college commencement, we had a revered Jesuit theologian who delivered the address.  I can't tell you what he said, but I know that after 38 minutes of talking (seriously), he took a deep, labored breath, sipped a drink of water, and said, "And, my second point..."  The restless crowd got ugly, grumbled loudly and he walked off before he could finish his next sentence.

I have also had the good fortune of speaking at two of my own graduations -- not to impart any wisdom as the commencement speaker, but to represent my classmates in our celebration.  What I remember most is the nerves I felt, the bravery it took and the fact that I will never again give another speech without a bottle of water within arm's reach.  At my high school graduation, I almost couldn't finish my well-rehearsed remarks (High School at Prep ... These four words encompass the most important and influential years of our lives ...).  My mouth dried up like a prune in the desert, getting smaller, drier and dysfunctional by the second.

The Ordinary People

So, my point is celebrities and scholars don't have the market cornered on great wisdom and good commencement speeches.  Anyone can do it, and there are great resources to show you how.  Check out this awesome blog, Graduation Wisdom, when you get the call.

I recently started thinking about the wisdom that rests with the more "ordinary" people I know.  People who haven't won awards, written books or made billions.  But, whose wisdom comes from perhaps a life of parenthood, hard knocks or inspirational courage. 

Why don't ordinary people get to give commencement addresses?   I think it is because they've never been asked.  

What would they say?  Now, that could be interesting.  So I decided to test my thinking.

First, I talked to my daughter Emma about this idea and explained to her what a commencement address was.  I asked her what valuable advice or lesson would she tell an audience.  "Always be honest" was her big message. "If you aren't honest with people, then they can never trust you or let you do anything."  Not bad for a kid.  She'll give a speech some day.

Then I thought I should ask one of the wisest people I know. My mom.

From Secretary to Saint -- and Some Stops in Between

How I picture Mr. Peterson

My mother started her career in business an an executive secretary at Harborside in Jersey City in the 1960s.  If you have known her for more than a day, you know this to be true and you have heard at least a dozen stories about her business career and her boss, Mr. Peterson, the president of Harborside's warehousing operations.  The fancy Manhattan lunches, run-ins with singers Robert Goulet and Liberace, yadda, yadda, yadda. I envision Mr. Peterson as the Don Draper of his day -- handsome, sharply dressed, three-martini lunch, Lucky Strikes kind of guy.  My mother was his indispensable secretary who knew everything, ran everything and was as discrete as could be.

She quit her job when my sister was born and she gained a lifetime of wisdom raising me and my sister.  Motherhood stories and lessons merit anyone a commencement speech in my book. 

When she went back to work in 1988, she became the office manager for a chiropractor in Jersey City.  She ran a tight ship, kept the whole staff -- including the doctor -- in line, and befriended anyone coming through those doors.  In 1996, she went to a local college (my alma mater) for a part-time job processing transcripts in the registrar's office.  She thought she would only be there temporarily, but 18 years later she is still there as the department secretary for the Modern and Classical Languages department.

Pearls of Wisdom

I sat down with my mother in my kitchen a few weeks ago and I asked her, "You've worked at a college for nearly 20 years. What would you want to tell those students if you had the chance to give a commencement address?  What advice would you give them as they head out into the real world if someone asked?"

First, Mom talked about her father, the greatest influence on her life.  "He believed in the Golden Rule. Treat everyone as you want to be treated." That was his belief system and how he lived his life.  He wasn't a religious man who attended church, but he had a firm sense of morality that showed in his kindness and respect for others.

Then, she talked about faith.  "Have faith in something."  Might be God. Might be religion. Might be some higher being.  But recognize and believe in something greater than yourself.  "My faith got me through terrible times."  She went through a hard times with her parents being sick when she was younger -- and then getting sick herself. It was faith in God and simple prayer that helped her get through it.

And, finally, believe in yourself and work for what you want.  "I am not the most positive thinker," says my  Irish mother who believes in Murphy's law. "But kids coming out of school have to believe in themselves and have confidence in their own abilities to get anywhere."  But don't get too haughty, or my mother will knock you down, too.  "You also need a strong work ethic and be willing to work from the bottom up.  Some kids today don't realize you have to pay your dues. That's how you learn."

Reactive Wisdom May Be The Best Kind

I teased my mother after our interview, saying that I thought she would have a lot more to say.  On most days, you can't get a word in edgewise with my mother.  A conversation in our family is just an interruption to her continuous stream of stories and gossip.

I said I thought she would have more stories to tell me, more profound wisdom to share.  "I have reactive wisdom," she said.  What was that?  "People come to me with their problems and I listen.  Then I tell them stories about my life that may have lessons for them. I react to what others tell me."  My father, married to my mother for nearly 50 years, nodded silently in agreement.

And, there you have it.  A commencement speech.  Shared experiences, values and advice from my mother.  And, all you had to do was ask.

The truth is everyone has a commencement speech to give.  What will your commencement speech be?

I Wish We All Were Morning Persons

This morning -- after two weeks of getting back into the school routine with the kids -- I shared an observation with my wife, Elena (She really loves my observations -- especially in the morning when she is in the midst of packing lunches, dispensing inhalers and serving Cinnabons).

I told her, "In my experience, there are clearly two types of people in this world.  Those who wake up in the morning, get all their jobs done, and then relax until they need to leave ... and those who wake up in the morning, relax a bit, and then race to get all their jobs done before they have to run out the door."

"Good Morning, Good Morning, to You..."

You can probably guess that I am in the first category. As Sutton Foster likes to sing -- and now Emma serenades me with, too -- "I've always been a morning person."  For those, who like the classics, you can enjoy Gene Kelly, Deb Reynolds and Donald O'Connor here.

I have always been someone who likes to get the unpleasant stuff out of the way first and then get my reward. I eat all my corn first, so I can enjoy that delicious steak and butter-soaked baked potato as the last prize on my taste buds.  I'd rather unpack the car, the bags, etc., before I crash on the couch. Exercise before I eat the Dunkin Donuts Boston Kreme.

A delayed reward brings greater satisfaction in my mind.  You get all those other nuisances out of the way and enjoy yourself with a clear conscience.

That is my thinking, but I know it's not universal -- as evidenced by our morning family routine.

Up and At 'Em

On a weekday morning, I will get out of bed after one hit on the snooze.  I hit the shower, get dressed and do the first round of wake-up calls upstairs.  Then I feed the dog, let her out, start the breakfast prep for the kids, clear out the dishwasher, go back upstairs for the second round of wake-ups -- and then I am done.

I could throw on my coat, jump in the car and head to the office in the next second.  So, now, I get my reward. I can take a deep breath, watch Tom & Jerry with the kids, and read the newspapers on my iPad.



This drives my wife crazy.  Don't you think?

She gets up about a half hour later than me.  She checks her email in bed, makes sure everyone's clothes are laid out and brings our son Will downstairs for breakfast. She makes the kids lunches and checks that their backpacks are loaded.  Class notes and instructions (Bus rider ... car rider ... dance class ... volleyball, blah, blah, blah) are conveyed to our sleepy-eyed crew who stumble downstairs in various states of grumpiness.  Somewhere in between all this, Elena goes back upstairs to gets herself dressed for work, settle any bathroom wars between Emma and Tess, and comes back down to eat her own breakfast.

Training The Kids 

My son Will is being trained to understand his dad's wisdom.  He finishes his breakfast, brushes his teeth, gets dressed and tries to spend some time on the XBox without anyone bothering him.  Tess generally gets up, dressed and stays locked in her room until I complete a few yells to get in the car (or unless she feels the need to battle with Emma).  Emma, meanwhile, lopes downstairs, nice and relaxed and goes quietly through her routine.

On weekends, it's a whole different ballgame.  Saturday is "live and let live" day. No wake-up calls.  No orders.  Dad can get up at 7 a.m. and do whatever crazy routine he has -- and Emma snooze until noon.  On Sundays, we invoke "Sunday rules."  No one can turn on a TV, XBox or iPad until they are up, fed, cleaned, dressed and ready for church (this means socks and shoes on -- see this post on the Sockless Life).

I could argue until I am blue in the face why "my way is better" -- (and my wife might argue you that I don't do half of what I described myself doing on a weekday morning).  That is not the point, people. :)

The truth is ... people are wired one way or the other.  You're either a bounce out of bed, bring it on, morning person.  Or, you're an ease me into my day, what is the rush, person.

It can make for some bumpy mornings when these two worlds collide -- but peaceful coexistence is the basic goal... maybe one day a week.
  

We Need "Back To School" Spirit for Adults

It's September and the kids are back in school.  The end of summer has been mourned, and in a millisecond the kids' sadness ends (okay, maybe a little longer for my son, Will). And, the excitement starts.

School supplies have been bought. Lockers have been filled. Books have been covered.  Schedules are set. Curiosity stirs. Fears are faced. Friendships formed.  Can you feel it?  

The truth is "back to school" is an amazing time. A great ritual.  And, in many ways, I envy my kids for that.  With the perspective and distance of a middle-aged father, I wish I could go back in time and recapture some of those feelings that my kids experience every September.  The truth is we need a "back to school" spirit for adults.  Wouldn't it be great?

What?  You don't think so?  How about this?  Here are five things that I miss about the Septembers of my childhood.

1) Butterflies

As a kid, do you remember the butterflies you would feel a few days before school?  It was scary, but mostly good nerves and excitement.

For kids, nerves can be terrifying, but they are also so exciting, special and energizing every September.

You had so many questions.  You were worried about the unknown, but looking forward to the answers.  Who would my teacher be?  Who was coming back to school?  Was Algebra really as hard as my sister said? Would I make the team this year?

And, oh my gosh, if you were starting a new school, the butterflies became condors.

I went to an all-boys high school known for its Jesuits, academics and discipline.  I was a skinny, four-eyed freshman in my first gym class one September with about 50 other freshman -- and I had butterflies.

Our gym teacher was a stern, no-nonsense mountain of a man. A marine and All-American who had been a legend at the school for 30 years.  He kept everyone in line with a hard stare and sharp one-liners.  The first day, he lined us all up across the gym floor and told us to stand at attention. He stood on the balcony near his office, clipboard in hand,and he laid down the law.  My butterflies started to move.  The nerves and whatever breakfast I ate started to stir in my stomach.  I looked around anxiously.  I dashed out of line to the nearest garbage can, threw up quickly and ran back to my spot in line without skipping a beat.  I was over the butterflies and ready.  [The gym teacher had a heart and never said a word. He'd probably seen it a thousand times before :)]

For an adult, butterflies don't have that same fun, exciting edge.  Butterflies become ulcers.  They might linger, require acute medical attention or years of therapy.

I think about when I have started new jobs.  That's sort of like back to school.  Same thing, right? While it can bring on some similar nerves, I haven't found those nearly as comforting or exciting as back to school days. And you certainly pray you're not experiencing those "new job" butterflies every September.

2) Shopping sprees

As a kid, every September came with new sneakers (Converse) or shoes (Does anyone remember wallabees?).  A new school uniform and bookbag (nothing like the backpacks today).  A shopping cart at KMart full of spiral notebooks, theme paper, Bic pens, Dixon Ticonderoga pencils -- and maybe even a hazardous compass to stick in your friend's leg during recess.

For adults, the "annual" shopping spree gives way to car payments, mortgages and kids' orthodontia. My wardrobe looks pretty much the same as it did ^%*^% years ago (just ask my wife), and my supplies come from my assistant's file cabinet at the office.  And, if I am lucky, I am not "growing" out of my uniform every year.

3) Reunions

For kids, every September is a reunion.  After a few months off on summer adventures, they come back together to swap stories and bond over whose parents are becoming more annoying.They are so excited to see one another.  The girls squeal at each other. The boys wrestle each other.  All is well.  Sleepovers ensue and the school year drama begins.

As an adult, the reunions are less often, less exciting and more complicated.

At school reunions years later, there are all the awkward moments. "Are you sure we were in the same class as me?  I don't remember you at all."  ... Calling people by the wrong name for 10 minutes because you were sure he was Jim -- only to find out later that  he was always called Mahesh.  Your wife who didn't go to school with you rolls her eyes all night and looks at her watch as she hears the story about the big game when some guy nicknamed Smoothy hit the big shot or when Boomer's house got wrecked while his parents were away in Bermuda.  The inevitable judgments and comparisons of who has lost more hair, gained more pounds, had more kids, made more money.

Then there's impromptu reunions with friends from school that you try to arrange. You spend months juggling work commitments, kids schedules, and finding babysitters to set up a weekend -- or maybe just a dinner -- to "reunite" with the old crew from high school or college.  You're so exhausted by the time the day arrives  you can barely keep your eyes open past 10 pm.  And, so you drink, eat and talk about the work commitments, kids schedules and the new babysitter.



4)  Clean slates

As a kid, every September comes with a clean slate.  There are no grades on your report card. You get a fresh start.

This is the year that I am going to get straight A's.  This is the year that I will beat out Hillary for student council.  This is the year I will get the lead in the school play or show off that new jump shot I spent 2,000 hours working on over the summer. This is the year, my teeth are straight, my skin is clear and my contact lenses are in -- I may have exited that "awkward stage" as my mother would call it and she won't hide the class pictures in a drawer.  This is the year, I might have the nerve to ask Amy to the prom.

As an adult, clean slates are a lot harder to come by.  Situations, habits, perceptions and grudges change a lot more slowly as we get older.  We think New Year's Day can be our clean slate every year, but it never has the same effect as the first day of school.

5) Safety nets

Every September, no matter how the first day went, you could count on a reassuring word, a comforting hug and some delicious ice cream from Mom and Dad.  Whether you were devastated by missing the school bus or excited by being elected class representative, your parents were home, wanting to hear every word. They could make everything alright, or so it seemed.  You always had a safety net at home.


As an adult, life's safety nets may not always be as sturdy and the problems may have a bit more of a sting.

But somewhere your mother is waiting for that phone call.  She has a quart of Breyer's in the freezer in case you come by. And she has a ready ear, a clear solution and hours of stories when the same thing happened to "your Aunt Matilda's son Jim's granddaughter Lucy who lives in Bayonne down near St. Andrew's.  You met her at Uncle Jim's funeral when you were six...  Do you remember her?"

Ahh, the Septembers of my childhood.  To have that "back to school" spirit again.

Ticket Stubs Are Bookmarks To My Life

I am a 45-year old man, and I have a treasure box.  There, I said it.

It's a pretty ordinary wooden box.  It has a whale carved on the top and comes from Maine. About 25 years ago, it was sitting empty on my dresser collecting dust.  Then it became a resting place for my treasures.

It doesn't contain money, jewelry or gold coins.  It doesn't have baseball cards, photos or antique watches.

It holds a lifetime of memories.  A lifetime of memories in the form of ... ticket stubs.

The Bookmarks To My Life

These  pieces of paper mark more than 100 events in my life.  They are from concerts and comedians.  Broadway shows and basketball games.   Dance recitals and plays. Aquariums, zoos and gardens. The truth is these tickets stubs are the  bookmarks to my life.

When I was younger, I thought it would be cool some day when I was old to sit on my porch in a rocking chair, take out my treasure box and walk down memory lane.  A cheap and restful form of entertainment for an old man.

I wondered if a particular ticket would make me laugh?  Remind me of an old friend? Perhaps bring a song to my mind?  Conjure up images of the kids?  What would I remember when I looked at this assortment of decorated pulp?

This week, I took out my ticket stubs to see what I would find.

The Kids

The kids tickets marking
adventures and milestones.

There was a large group of tickets that will always remind me of the kids:

• Saturday afternoons with the kids at the Shriner Circus in Mennen Arena where cheap popcorn, cotton candy, elephant rides and acrobats made us laugh and cheer
  
• Tess' dance recitals and  Emma's performances in Willy Wonka and Hairspray
  
• Days at the Liberty Science Center, Sesame Place, the Bronx Zoo, and the Aquarium in Boston


• Long walks up the Cape Hatteras Light House every summer
  
• Spending a Daddy day with little Emma and Tess at a production of Cinderella.  A great idea until little Tess got a spontaneous gushing, bloody nose in the parking lot two minutes before the curtain.  I can still see the red handkerchief,... hear my most soothing "you'll-be-fine, Tess," ... and thinking "I hope they don't call DYFS," as we ran through the parking lot to make the curtain.  :)

From the Community Theater
to Broadway

The Shows

In another stack are the shows that remind me of great performances, lots of laughs and endless evenings with friends:

• Howling at Bobby Collins, Drew Carey, and Colin Mochrie and Brad Sherwood -- the two funniest men alive by my account.  Check out this video and wet your pants.
  
• The first time we took Emma to see Wicked and would hear Popular sung 10,000 times by our little starlet
  
• Les Miserables, Lion King, The Producers, Chicago, Riverdance and Rent

The Concerts

One more group for the concerts that set the musical score for my life and embed all those "old" songs in my head to this very day.

• Going to Bruce Springsteen's last show at Giants Stadium and screaming out Thunder Road.
  
• Seeing Billy Joel at Madison Square Garden and at Yankee Stadium.  My favorite performer ever.
  
• James Taylor at the Garden State Arts Center.  Is there any better way to spend a summer evening in NJ? (My wife would say there are hundreds of better ways, but she is from Ohio -- and thinks Dave Matthews is far better)

• Going with my wife to see the Irish group, the Chieftains, one week before my daughter Emma was born. We had to leave early because little Emma was kicking like crazy and enjoying the music a bit too much for her poor, uncomfortable mother-- and then getting lost in Newark on the way home.  Aaah, the bliss of impending parenthood and panic.

The Games

And, finally, The sporting events that brought me together with friends and family -- and were far less about the game and more about the gathering and camaraderie:

Gathering at games over decades

• Tailgating at countless Kickoff Classics at Giants Stadium.  No better way to end the summer and start the fall.
  
• Nets games at the Meadowlands -- especially for that brief moment when the Nets were good.
  
• Minor league baseball games in Bridgewater -- where summer reunions with the old colleagues never got old.
  
• The Rose Bowl in 1997.  Jake the Snake and Arizona State against the Ohio State Buckeyes in a thriller.  The culmination of a "boys" trip up and down the California coast with my Prep crew.
  
• Saint Peter's College basketball games against Seton Hall at the Meadowlands.  We rarely -- if ever -- won, but spending the night with my dad feasting in a VIP box as special guests was always priceless.
    

Dwindling, but Precious Treasures

Today, there are fewer ticket stubs.  We print them off our computers on cheap disposable pieces of paper.   In some cases, a sticker or a wrist band will do. Soon they'll just be digital certificates on our smart phones and stamps on our hands.  

I will miss ticket stubs.  They are dwindling, but precious treasures.  The memories they store will be a wonderful gift when my rocking chair calls and memory lane is awaits.