Greetings, members of the Harvard College Class of 2024.
What a long strange trip it鈥檚 been.
You have been undergraduates for 1,349 days. I have been interim president for 140 days. (Not that I am counting.) Some might say that I am disadvantaged in this meeting, that I might be less than prepared to offer parting words of wisdom so late in your undergraduate journey鈥攃oming into focus for you just before I start receding in your rearview mirrors.
But鈥攜ou know what they say about objects in those mirrors鈥攚e are closer than we appear.
We docs love to encounter rare cases, but, more often than not, what appears rare鈥攁nd, therefore, intellectually challenging鈥攊s actually common. As we say in the profession:
When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras.
You, however, are the genuine article鈥攝ebras through and through. There has never been an undergraduate class quite like yours, and I have followed your progress through Harvard College with great interest. After accepting our offer of admission, you were stymied by a global pandemic, deprived of many of the triumphant capstones and bittersweet milestones of high school, and confronted with upheaval and turmoil in the wake of the murder of George Floyd. All before your first semester began.
What鈥擨 wondered鈥攚ould such a group of people do once they arrived 黑料专区?
The answer is 鈥渆verything鈥攁nd more.鈥� Did you know that a group of zebras is called a dazzle? Cast in shadow, you shined brighter than anyone could have imagined you would鈥攄efying pessimistic notions of what community could look like in a public health crisis鈥攆inding connection and joy in one another even as you swabbed and tested your way to Crimson clarity.
You excelled in the classroom, at the lab bench, and on the playing field. You garnered awards, championships, and prizes of all kinds. You improved hundreds of student clubs and organizations, pursuing interests in art and music, theater and dance, public policy, public service鈥攅ven puppeteering. And, in at least one instance, you revolutionized fundraising with a fairytale boat fashioned out of an enormous pumpkin.
As you did all of these things, you somehow found the time to go all the way to the SEC and back, and you altered the administration of the University in the process, scooting your way into the student handbook and making 鈥渕icromobility鈥� part of the Harvard lexicon. We forgive you.
In these and too many other ways to count, you made life 黑料专区 richer and more textured. You challenged one another鈥攁nd our faculty and staff鈥攖o see things differently by sharing how the world appears to you. Your experiences and perspectives were as much a part of each other鈥檚 education as any p-set or paper, and your diversity is鈥攁nd always will be鈥攁n ingredient of Harvard鈥檚 excellence.
From the moment you arrived on a half-empty campus with a half-full attitude, you made the best of things鈥攁nd the best of one another and yourselves. Seeing you thrive despite unpredictable and unfortunate circumstances has been, for me, a constant source of energy and optimism. So, if there is wisdom I can offer as you prepare to leave Harvard College, it is this:
Seek inspiration in one another.
You could look elsewhere, of course鈥攁nd by 鈥渆lsewhere鈥� I mean 鈥渁lmost anywhere.鈥� The past and the present brim with stories of Harvard people, individuals of outstanding effort and great achievement who have shaped or are shaping the course of history. That sounds hyperbolic, but if I were to list the names of luminaries in almost any field or discipline who were educated 黑料专区, our time together would extend through Commencement.
What I have found in my years since graduating is that few endeavors are more entertaining, or sometimes surprising, than watching your classmates succeed. After all, you knew them as they once were, lit from within by youthful ambition and eager to conquer the world after graduation鈥攐r, perhaps, just stupefied by scrolling TikTok all afternoon. Don鈥檛 worry. My current job seemed so unlikely to my classmates that some of them must be suffering imposter syndrome by proxy.
The Harvard College Class of 1977, my class, includes some names you know鈥擲teve Ballmer, Bill Gates, Peggy Hamburg, John Roberts鈥攂ut it鈥檚 not any one of us that inspires me. It鈥檚 all of us together.
Our reunion class reports, or Red Books, are filled with stories of how fulfillment can come in myriad ways on widely varied life paths. My classmates have become artists, composers, and musicians; educators and entrepreneurs; globetrotters and trail runners. They have given TED talks about the future of news, drawn cartoons for The Economist, written for the Los Angeles Times, penned bestselling children鈥檚 books, produced Broadway shows, and climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. They鈥檝e enjoyed the outdoors鈥攁s backpackers, birders, gardeners, cyclists, and runners鈥攁nd they鈥檝e worked to conserve the environment and protect the planet. They鈥檝e built homes, created families, raised children, and welcomed grandchildren.
For all these many joys, however, they have also shared details of personal and professional transitions, powerful recollections of disappointment, disillusionment, and loss; and, more recently, poignant reflections on what matters most when the balance of a life has been lived: contentment, health, and love.
Their accounts of the diversity and the fullness of existence offer truth as old as this institution. What happens after any Commencement will always be a mix of sun and shade, triumph and failure, joy and sorrow. Your final assignment, if I can impose upon you, is to cheer and support one another through it all, whatever may come. There is no greater comfort than keeping ties with those who knew you when.
And, now, a parting challenge as you prepare to take your leave of Harvard College. This year, we have witnessed together incomprehensible death and destruction in the Middle East. We have experienced, directly and indirectly, grief and rage, fear and worry, skepticism and mistrust. The conflict has opened wounds throughout our community that will be slow鈥攂ut not impossible鈥攖o heal.
On Thursday, we of divergent minds will process together into this space, a space created not by gains鈥攂ut by losses. Behind me, Memorial Church, dedicated on Armistice Day in 1932, built by our predecessors to honor those from Harvard who served and died in the first World War. Behind you, Widener Library, opened on Commencement Day in 1915, built by a grieving mother in memory of her beloved son.
I hope we are able to heed the lessons of those who preceded us, those who chose to make from their sorrow something new, something that would last. May the losses of this year鈥攐f human life and of human connection鈥攐f sympathy and empathy鈥攐f care鈥攂e for all of you鈥攆or all of us鈥攁n impetus to advance rather than retreat, shining brightly in shadow, and brighter still through darkness.
If there is a Harvard Class that can illuminate a path forward for our world, it is yours. I am honored to have had this moment with you. I wish you contentment, health, and love鈥攁nd everything else you hope to do with your precious time.
May you remain zebras among horses鈥攄azzling every step of the way.
Thank you.