We don’t do speeches from faculty at graduation at my high school–the common approach has been to rush the ceremony along, get ‘em in, get ‘em out quickly. We actually pride ourselves on how rapidly we can finish the ceremony. When we can do it under an hour, we count it as a success.
So I’ve crafted one in my head–sort of a fantasy where I’m sitting in the faculty section listening along with the other teachers, and the principal says something like, “maybe we should do a speech from the teachers. Anyone interested?” And I can do that thing where you’re the hero who answers the call, right? So I stand up and shout to thunderous applause, “I’m ready!” Here’s the speech I’d give.
“Graduates, as I look out onto your eager young faces, I can only think one thought: those are some stupid-looking hats you’ve got on.
Seriously, who thought this was a good idea? This flat topped piece of cardboard covered in black felt? Looks ridiculous. When else do you wear this except at graduation?
Come to think of it, most of your momentous events in life are commemorated with a silly looking hat. You’re born–you get a knitted cap. You look like a dockworker. First birthday? You wear a conical paper hat with an elastic string around your chin. Bar Mitzvah? Very small, badly fitting flat cap. Promotion to drum major? Huge fuzzy hat that makes you look like a Q-Tip. Finish Cordon Bleu school? Giant puffy white hat. Just been named Pope? Giant tapered hat that makes you look like a chess piece. That hat’s actually called a “miter,” did you know that? Just as the hats you’re wearing now are called “mortar boards.” They’re called that because they resemble, well, mortar boards. See, bricklayers–folks who build things out of bricks–use these flat square surfaces to hold mortar. That’s the grey stuff that you see between the bricks. It’s the substance that holds the bricks in place and cements them together to make them strong. They use a trowel–like a hand shovel–to get some mortar from their boards and just kind of slather it where the brick is going to go.
Huh. Mortar boards. Maybe…there’s something to that. We like to talk about education being your future and stuff like that, but education isn’t your future. Oh, it’s part of your future, of course, but it’s not your actual future. You’re going to build your life in the years to come, using bricks made of jobs, relationships, events, and sometimes even actual bricks. But how will you put it all together? With the education you got here and will continue with. You learned a lot here, but mainly what we hoped you learn was how to put it all together–how to assemble the pieces of your life into whatever you want it to be.
Use the mortar of education to build yourself, to add to your life brick by brick. Use the mortar to withstand the bad times that come to you, to keep what you’ve built from crumbing when it faces the wind of adversity. Use the mortar to forge strong relationships with others–a spouse, co-workers, friends, family.
Maybe those stupid mortarboards really are the perfect hat for the occasion. So when in a few moments you toss them into the sky, realize that you’re not just celebrating what you’ve done–you’re celebrating what is yet to come. A person’s reach should exceed their grasp, or what’s a heaven for? The sky’s the limit, everyone!
Be seeing you!