应届毕业典礼简单实用三分钟英语演讲稿范文（通用30篇）
My visit to Casals’ house was a reminder to me that we must all try to use our power well. Because to not use our power is to abuse it.
To not speak, to remain silent in the face of uncertainty, in the face of the insecurity and massive changes that confront us today, that every one of us confronts every day of our lives – that is an abuse of power.
Let us remember: Every struggle for reform, innovation, or justice starts with a voice in the wilderness. A voice in the wilderness. Vox clamantis in deserto. You all know that.
So, as you go forward today, I’d just like to leave you with this one thought: You have, and always will have, more power than you know. Never abuse this power. Never abuse this power. It is a gift. Use it with great care and with great intention. Listen to the voices crying in the wilderness; become one of those voices, a voice for justice and for hope.
Remember, always, that you are a human being first. It’s a truth embedded in the very foundation of your liberal arts education. Practice your humanity daily. Practice that truth. Let it power your decisions, let it inspire your thoughts, and let it shape your ideals. Then you will soar. You will fly. And you will help others soar and fly.
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.
We know that closing every last U.S. coal-fired power plant over the next two years is achievable because we’re already more than halfway there. Through a partnership between Bloomberg Philanthropies and the Sierra Club, we’ve shut down 289 coal-fired power plants since 20xx, and…and that includes 51 that we have retired since the 20xx presidential election despite all the bluster from the White House. As a matter of fact, since Trump got elected, the rate of closure has gone up.
Second, we will work to stop the construction of new gas plants. By the time they are built, they will be out of date – because renewable energy will be cheaper. Cities like Los Angeles are already stopping new gas plant construction in favor of renewable energy. And states like New Mexico, and Washington, and Hawaii, and California are working to convert their electric system to 100 percent clean energy.
We don’t want to replace one fossil fuel with another. We want to build a clean energy economy – and we will push more states to do that.
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.
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.
you’re not supposed to be. Find the hope in the unexpected. Find the courage in the challenge. Find your vision on the solitary road.
Don’t get distracted.
There are too many people who want credit without responsibility.
Too many who show up for the ribbon cutting without building anything worth a damn.
Be different. Leave something worthy.In a few days, we will mark the 50th anniversary of the riots at Stonewall.
When the patrons of the Stonewall Inn showed up that night – people of all races, gay and transgender, young and old – they had no idea what history had in store for them. It would have seemed foolish to dream it.
And always remember that you can’t take it with you. You’re going to have to pass it on.
Thank you very much. And Congratulations to the Class of 20xx!
You may not know this, but I was on the sailing team all four years.
It wasn’t easy. Back then, the closest marina was a three-hour drive away. For practice, most of the time we had to wait for a heavy rainstorm to flood the football field. And tying knots is hard! Who knew?
Yet somehow, against all odds, we managed to beat Stanford every time. We must have gotten lucky with the wind.
Kidding aside, I know the real reason I’m here, and I don’t take it lightly.
Stanford and Silicon Valley’s roots are woven together. We’re part of the same ecosystem. It was true when Steve stood on this stage 14 years ago, it’s true today, and, presumably, it’ll be true for a while longer still.
The past few decades have lifted us together. But today, we gather at a moment that demands some reflection.
Fueled by caffeine and code, optimism and idealism, conviction and creativity, generations of Stanford graduates (and dropouts) have used technology to remake our society.
But I think you would agree that, lately, the results haven’t been neat or straightforward.
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.
So that’s why today – when your bags are packed, your friends are dispersing, and your place in this class is carved in stone – I want you to take a moment. Forget about the power you might have had here and think instead about the power you will have in the future – in 10, 20, 30 years – and promise yourself something. Promise yourself that when you find your power, you will use it thoughtfully, with restraint, and with good intention.
You will be powerful. And when you are, do not abuse your power. Ever.
Now, I’m sure that in the course of your lifetime, including the last four years, you have witnessed power and its abuse. When you were young, you probably saw it on the playground. You’ve seen it on this campus. We certainly have all seen it in our nation, and around the world.
In my own lifetime, I’ve seen too many people make decisions that put themselves before their community, before society, before the health of our planet. I’ve seen too many people who choose to build walls rather than bridges.
Sometimes, it’s because of the arrogance of their certitude, or because of simple, blissful unawareness. Sometimes, it’s because of their ego, or self-deception, and sometimes, it’s a deliberate act of revenge. Other times, it’s the primal, addictive pursuit of conquest – conquest of all kinds.
Iwonderedwhetherwecouldseeourfutureinthisway.Well,let’smakeafist.Whereisourfuture?Whereisourlove,career,andlife?Tellme.Yeah,itisinourhands.Itisheldinourselves.Weallwantthefuturetobebetterthanthepast.Butthefuturecangobetteritself.Don’tcrybecauseitisover,smilebecauseithappened.Fromthepast,we’velearntthatthelifeistough,butwearetougher.We’velearntthatwecan’tchoosehowwefeel,butwecanchoosewhataboutit.Failuredoesn’tmeanyoudon’thaveit,itdoesmeanyoushoulddoitinadifferentway.Failuredoesn’tmeanyoushouldgiveup,itdoesmeanyoumusttryharder.AswhatIsaidatthebeginning,“wearereadingthefirstverseofthefirstchapterofabook,whosepagesareinfinite”.Thepasthasgone.Nothingwedowillchangeit.Butthefutureisinfrontofus.Believethatwhatwegivetotheworld,theworldwillgivetous.Andfromtodayon,let’sbetheownersofourselves,andspeakout“Wearetheworld,wearethefuture.”
In my inaugural address, I remarked that just 60 years earlier, my father might not have been served in a D.C. restaurant – at least not certain of them. There were no black CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. Very few black judges. Shoot, as Larry Wilmore pointed out last week, a lot of folks didn’t even think blacks had the tools to be a quarterback. Today, former Bull Michael Jordan isn’t just the greatest basketball player of all time – he owns the team. (Laughter.) When I was graduating, the main black hero on TV was Mr. T. (Laughter.) Rap and hip hop were counterculture, underground. Now, Shonda Rhimes owns Thursday night, and Beyoncé runs the world. (Laughter.) We’re no longer only entertainers, we’re producers, studio executives. No longer small business owners – we’re CEOs, we’re mayors, representatives, Presidents of the United States. (Applause.)
Noe, I am not saying gaps do not persist. Obviously, they do. Racism persists. Inequality persists. Don’t worry – I’m going to get to that. But I wanted to start, Class of 20xx, by opening your eyes to the moment that you are in. If you had to choose one moment in history in which you could be born, and you didn’t know ahead of time who you were going to be – what nationality, what gender, what race, whether you’d be rich or poor, gay or straight, what faith you’d be born into – you wouldn’t choose 100 years ago. You wouldn’t choose the fifties, or the sixties, or the seventies. You’d choose right now. If you had to choose a time to be, in the words of Lorraine Hansberry, “young, gifted, and black” in America, you would choose right now. (Applause.)
Our society is like a big complicated family in the midst of a terrible argument. I believe that one way…one way to make it better is to find ways to listen to each other, to understand our differences, and to work constantly to remind each other of our common humanity. I know you will find your own ways to help with this healing, too.
This morning, we share with the world nearly 3,000 new graduates who are ready for this urgent and timeless problem set.
You came to MIT with exceptional qualities of your own. And now, after years of focused and intense dedication, you leave us, equipped with a distinctive set of skills and steeped in this community’s deepest values – a commitment to excellence, integrity, meritocracy, boldness, humility, an open spirit of collaboration, a strong desire to make a positive impact, and a sense of responsibility to make the world a better place.
So now, go out there. Join the world. Find your calling. Solve the unsolvable. Invent the future. Take the high road. Shoot for the moon. And you will continue to make your family, including your MIT family, proud.
Members of the Class of 20xx, Stanford faculty and staff, former and current trustees of our university, government officials, distinguished guests, and cherished family members and friends:
I thank you for joining us on this very special day to celebrate Stanford’s 128th Commencement. It’s my great honor to warmly welcome all of you.
To all those who are receiving degrees today, I offer a very special welcome:
Our senior class members and our graduate students – congratulations to each and every one of you. Today, we celebrate your accomplishments during your time at Stanford, and we look ahead with anticipation that everything you will do next.
Now we gather this weekend in joy and celebration. But as we do, we are also thinking of those in our community who have left us this year – including, tragically, within the last few days.
The loss of any member of our Stanford community is a loss to all of us.
And so, as we begin this morning’s program, I’d like us to take a moment to acknowledge their passing and to reflect on how they have enriched our lives.
Please join me in a moment of silence.
Thank you.
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?
Question three:
As you heard a moment ago, the second person to walk on the moon was Buzz Aldrin. Buzz was the first astronaut to have a doctoral degree, and he earned it from the school that has produced more astronauts than any nonmilitary institution. In fact, of the 12 humans who have walked on the moon, four graduated from that same institution, which is known by just three letters.
MIT.
You are great. I knew you could do it. “The beaver has landed!” Mrs. Reif, I believe they are ready.
As you…as you prepare for liftoff, I’d like to use the Apollo story to reflect on a few larger lessons we hope you learned at MIT because the spirit of that magnificent human project speaks to this community’s deepest values and its highest aspirations.
The first lesson is the power of interdisciplinary teams. We live in a culture that loves to single out heroes. We love to crown superstars.
As graduates of MIT, however, I expect you’re already skeptical of stories of scientific triumph that have only one hero. You know by now that if you want to do something big, like detect gravitational waves in outer space or decode the human genome, or tackle climate change, or finish an 8.01 pset before sunrise, you cannot do it without a team.
As Margaret Hamilton herself would be quick to explain, by 1968, the MIT Instrumentation Laboratory had 600 people working on the moon-landing software. At its peak, the MIT hardware team was 400. And from Virginia to Texas, NASA engaged thousands more. In short, she was one star in a tremendous constellation of talent. And together – together – those stars created something impossible for any one of them to create alone.
the ground, the air, the sounds, the energy from the audience. All my senses are alert and alive in much the same way as an infant might feel -- that feeling of oneness.And when I'm acting a role, I inhabit another self, and I give it life for awhile, because when the self is suspended so is divisiveness and judgment. And I've played everything from a vengeful ghost in the time of slavery to Secretary of State in 20xx. And no matter how other these selves might be, they're all related in me. And I honestly believe the key to my success as an actor and my progress as a person has been the very lack of self that used to make me feel so anxious and insecure.I always wondered why I could feel others' pain so deeply, why I could recognize the somebody in the nobody. It's because I didn't have a self to get in the way. I thought I lacked substance, and the fact that I could feel others' meant that I had nothing of myself to feel.
As I was preparing these remarks, I realized that when I was first elected President, most of you – the Class of 20xx – were just starting high school. Today, you’re graduating at college. I used to joke about being old. Now I realize I’m old. (Laughter.) It’s not a joke anymore. (Laughter.)
But seeing all of you here gives me some perspective. It makes me reflect on the changes that I’ve seen over my own lifetime. So let me begin with what may sound like a controversial statement – a hot take.
Given the current state of our political rhetoric and debate, let me say something that may be controversial, and that is this: America is a better place today than it was when I graduated from college. (Applause.) Let me repeat: America is by almost every measure better than it was when I graduated from college. It also happens to be better off than when I took office – (laughter) – but that’s a longer story. (Applause.) That’s a different discussion for another speech.
But think about it. I graduated in 1983. New York City, America’s largest city, where I lived at the time, had endured a decade marked by crime and deterioration and near bankruptcy. And many cities were in similar shape. Our nation had gone through years of economic stagnation, the stranglehold of foreign oil, a recession where unemployment nearly scraped 11 percent. The auto industry was getting its clock cleaned by foreign competition. And don’t even get me started on the clothes and the hairstyles. I’ve tried to eliminate all photos of me from this period. I thought I looked good. (Laughter.) I was wrong.
the group gathered there felt something strengthen in them. A conviction that they deserved something better than the shadows, and better than oblivion.
And if it wasn’t going to be given, then they were going to have to build it themselves.
I was 8 years old and a thousand miles away when Stonewall happened. There were no news alerts, no way for photos to go viral, no mechanism for a kid on the Gulf Coast to hear these unlikely heroes tell their stories.
Greenwich Village may as well have been a different planet, though I can tell you that the slurs and hatreds were the same.
What I would not know, for a long time, was what I owed to a group of people I never knew in a place I’d never been.
Yet I will never stop being grateful for what they had the courage to build.
Graduates, being a builder is about believing that you cannot possibly be the greatest cause on this Earth, because you aren’t built to last. It’s about making peace with the fact that you won’t be there for the end of the story.
That brings me to my last bit of advice.
Fourteen years ago, Steve stood on this stage and told your predecessors: “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.”
It has an extremely important function. Without it, we literally can't interface with others. We can't hatch plans and climb that stairway of popularity, of successBut my skin color wasn't right. My hair wasn't right. My history wasn't right. My self became defined by otherness, which meant that, in that social world, I didn't really exist. And I was "other" before being anything else -- even before being a girl. I was a noticeable nobody.Another world was opening up around this time: performance and dancing. That nagging dread of self-hood didn't exist when I was dancing. I'd literally lose myself. And I was a really good dancer. I would put all my emotional expression into my dancing. I could be in the movement in a way that I wasn't able to be in my real life, in myself.
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.”
I'm here to tell you that your life isn’t some big break, like everybody tells you that is. It’s about taking one big life transforming step at a time.
You can pick a problem, any problem—the list is long. There’s gun violence, and inequality, and media bias...and the dreamers need protection...the prison system needs to be reformed, misogyny needs to stop. But the truth is you cannot fix everything. What you can do here and now is make a decision, because life is about decisions—and the decision that you can make is to use your life in service. You will be in service to life, and you will speak up, you will show up, you will stand up, you will volunteer, you will shout out, you will radically transform whatever moment you’re in, which will lead to bigger moments.
Think about what’s at stake. Everything you write, everything you say, every topic of curiosity, every stray thought, every impulsive purchase, every moment of frustration or weakness, every gripe or complaint, every secret shared in confidence.
In a world without digital privacy, even if you have done nothing wrong other than think differently, you begin to censor yourself. Not entirely at first. Just a little, bit by bit. To risk less, to hope less, to imagine less, to dare less, to create less, to try less, to talk less, to think less. The chilling effect of digital surveillance is profound, and it touches everything.
What a small, unimaginative world we would end up with. Not entirely at first. Just a little, bit by bit. Ironically, it’s the kind of environment that would have stopped Silicon Valley before it had even gotten started.
We deserve better. You deserve better.
If we believe that freedom means an environment where great ideas can take root, where they can grow and be nurtured without fear of irrational restrictions or burdens, then it’s our duty to change course, because your generation ought to have the same freedom to shape the future as the generation that came before.
Graduates, at the very least, learn from these mistakes. If you want to take credit, first, learn to take responsibility.
I live in this space of radical love and gratitude. Truly, I live the most beautiful life that you can imagine. I sit around trying to imagine: Who can have a better life? Whatever you imagine my life to be like…it’s always ten times better than whatever you think! It’s true! It’s not because I have wealth—although I love money, money’s fabulous, I love it—and that I get a lot of attention, which is also good...sometimes. It’s because I had appreciation for the small steps, the seeds that were planted, the maps of my life that unfolded because I was paying attention. You have to pay attention to your life, because it’s speaking to you all the time. That led me to a path made clear.
So that is what I’m wishing for you today: Your own path made clear. I know there’s a lot of anxiety about what the future holds and how much money you’re gonna make, but your anxiety does not contribute one iota to your progress, I gotta tell you. Look at how many times you were worried and upset—and now you’re here today. You made it. You’re going to be okay.
Take a deep breath with me right now and repeat this: Everything is always working out for me. That’s my mantra—make it yours. Everything is always working out for me. Because it is, and it has, and it will continue to be as you forge and discover your own path. But first: You do need a job. And may I say, it doesn't have to be your life’s mission, our your greatest passion, but a job that pays your rent and lets you move out of your parents house—because yes, they are tired of taking care of you, and they’re hoping this CC education will pay off! And it will in ways that you can’t imagine.
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.
Taken together, these four elements of Beyond Carbon will be the largest coordinated assault on the climate crisis that our country has ever undertaken.
Thank you. We will work to empower and expand the volunteers and activists fighting these battles community by community, state by state. It’s a process that our foundation and I have proved can succeed. After all, this isn’t the first time we’ve done an end run around Washington.
A decade ago, no one would have believed that we could take on the coal industry and close half of all U.S. plants, but we have.
A decade ago, no one would have believed we could take on the NRA and pass stronger gun safety laws in states like Florida, Colorado, and Nevada, but we have.
Two decades ago, no one would have believed that we could take on the tobacco industry and spread New York City’s smoking ban to most of America and to countries around the world, but we have.
And now, we will take on the fossil fuel industry to accelerate the transition to a clean energy economy. I believe we will succeed again – but only if one thing happens, and that is: you have to help lead the way by raising your voices, by joining an advocacy group, by knocking on doors, by calling your elected officials, by voting, and getting your friends and family to join you.
Back in the 1960s, when scientists here at MIT were racing to the moon, there was a populist saying that went: if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem. Today, Washington is a very, very big part of the problem.
I’ve yet to meet anyone who thinks that this world that we live in is perfect. This is not a political statement. It’s equally true of liberals and conservatives, Democrats and Republicans. And if you don’t think the world that we live in is perfect, the only way it gets better is if good people work to repair it. Our students, our faculty, our staff and alumni are doing that daily, and it makes me so proud.
This year, I had the privilege to meet, and be moved by, not just one but two of the nation’s preeminent poets – the United States Youth Poet Laureate, our own Amanda Gorman, and the United States Poet Laureate, our own Tracy K. Smith. I’ve also had the chance to marvel at artists who every day breathe life into our campus with their performances and their creative work – it’s amazing to see the talent that is represented on this campus and among our alumni, our faculty, and staff.
And every day, I’ve learned more about the remarkable efforts of our faculty to improve the world:
Alison Simmons and Barbara Grosz were [are] making sure that the next generation of computer scientists is prepared to address the ethical questions posed by the development of new digital technologies;
Ali Malkawi and his HouseZero, which is demonstrating the possibilities of ultra-efficient design and new building technology to respond to the threat of climate change;
What’s worse is that we come up with a lot of excuses for this behavior. We tell ourselves that we’re making decisions based on efficiency, on the balance sheet, on superior intelligence or unique talent and understanding. We tell ourselves it’s for the protection of our tribe or our trade. But by reducing decisions to these standards, we are forgetting about the empathy we are born with, about the trust others have put in us, and about the obligations to one another as human beings.
That is why culture is so important. Culture resists reduction and constantly reminds us of the beautiful complexities that humans are made of, both individually and collectively. The stories we tell; the music we make; the experiments and buildings we design. Everything that helps us to understand ourselves, to understand one another, to understand our environment – culture.
But, it’s not just the culture we learn about in textbooks or see in a museum. It’s the arts and sciences; all the different disciplines that ask us to try, to trust, and to build. It’s culture that inspires deep learning and curiosity, that makes us want to seek the universal principles that drive everything.
Today, everywhere I go – whenever I hear music effortlessly crossing a border or see an example of art transcending economic and political differences or witness scientists from dozens of countries collaborating – I am reminded how essential culture has always been, in every era, every tradition.
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.
Thank you. Thank you.
Good morning, Class of 20xx!
Thank you, President Tessier-Lavigne, for that very generous introduction. I’ll do my best to earn it.
Before I begin, I want to recognize everyone whose hard work made this celebration possible, including the groundskeepers, ushers, volunteers and crew. Thank you.
I’m deeply honored and frankly a little astonished to be invited to join you for this most meaningful of occasions.
Graduates, this is your day. But you didn’t get here alone.
Family and friends, teachers, mentors, loved ones, and, of course, your parents, all worked together to make you possible and they share your joy today. Here on Father’s Day, let’s give the dads in particular a round of applause.
Stanford is near to my heart, not least because I live just a mile and a half from here.
Of course, if my accent hasn’t given it away, for the first part of my life, I had to admire this place from a distance.
I went to school on the other side of the country, at Auburn University, in the heart of landlocked Eastern Alabama.
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.