Because We Are

   

June, unpretentious June. The fulsome green of Spring has drenched the earth, but we have not yet plunged into the exaggerated throes of Summer. If life is a beach, June is the damp, sloping shoreline where the sand and water meet. It is not July's hot sands or billowing waves. June seems not to ask but quietly gives. It's the clear wrapper for the Spring roll, the glass for iced tea, and a scoop of ice cream's simple, humble cone. In an academic context, June also becomes the beguilingly simple stage across which students walk. 

In the last few weeks, I've experienced the rare pleasure of watching two granddaughters receive diplomas—Lucy's from college and Maggie's from high school. In mid-June, we will attend Anna's eighth-grade graduation. As a word lover, I always look forward to the commencement speeches. I was especially curious as an educator because both schools featured former students. 

Maggie's school, Berkeley Carrol, welcomed the scientist Radley Horton, who was from the class of 1990 and is currently a professor at Columbia University's Climate School. Because he is a leading expert on extreme weather events and their societal impact, I was surprised that instead of focusing on the gloom and doom of climate issues, he began by reporting on how supportive and positive students were with each other when he recently visited some science labs. After asking students how their skills might help the world, he marveled over how themes of empathy, collaboration, interdependence, and a focus on community service and joy characterized their replies. He went on to praise the authenticity of the evening's Senior speakers and how enthusiastically their fellow students embraced them. He noticed the students' maturity, sense of community, and kindness. 

I wondered if he'd chosen to shut the door on climate concerns for the occasion, but eventually, he got to the oft-asked questions he receives as an expert on whether or not there is hope or enough time. Although he didn't minimize the seriousness of projections around extreme weather conditions, he incited hope when he pointed to the positive cultural changes he observed at Berkeley Carroll in 2025 compared to the more competitive and less supportive environment from his time at the school in the nineties. He said we can apply the minor changes in student attitudes towards one another to a larger reality for good. Despite the seriousness of the climate crisis, everything is conditional and based on ifs. In his view, human agency can rewrite the narrative, bring about hope, and guide solutions. 

The most rousing moment for me was when he championed the class of 2025 as one based on humanity - a trait, in his view, that optimizes their capacity to use the bad things happening to bring about good and change. Ultimately, he empowered us all to be critical thinkers who do not underestimate the possibility of solutions. As we left the auditorium, I was emboldened, as I hope the graduates were, by his final challenge: You tell us that it does not have to be this way, he said, even as he cautioned them of the need for courage.

Courage and the idea that nothing is impossible also informed the comments of the 2004 speaker at Lafayette, alumnus, author, filmmaker, songwriter, recording artist, and professor AK Asante. In a world steeped in political turmoil, foreign wars, food security, inflation, unemployment, refugee rights, and, of course, climate change, fear is a given. He quoted the poet Gwendolyn Brooks as an antidote, who framed courage not as the absence of fear but the triumph over it. 

Just as Radley Horton highlighted the importance of community, AK Asante also advocated for the foundational safety of belonging. He raised the idea of Ubuntu, I am because we are, and emphasized the ideal of a global village: a world where people thrive because they belong. He embraced us all in describing the village as everyone behind you, on the sides of you, everybody encircling you, your family, friends, supporters, and lovers, and I remember him saying we are all connected in this labyrinth of interconnectivity. I furtively jotted down the image for posterity, but it’s hard not to be discouraged by the overwhelming nature of world problems. 

In this context, Asante told us that he continues to be inspired by his past studies with Lafayette’s professor of religious studies, Kofi Opoku, whose teachings on the enduring simplicity of proverbs continue to open him to new perspectives. He shared some of these simple but powerful inspirations with us.  Like hummable lyrics from a Broadway play, these proverbs stuck and remain empowering:

Not knowing is bad; not wanting to know is far worse.

Fall seven times; Get up eight.

Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow.

If you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go with others.

It was almost time to cheer for the graduates and watch their mortarboards fly up to the sky, but first, Asante quoted Cervantes, who said a proverb is a short sentence based on long experience. Earning a high school diploma or a college degree requires hard work and years of gradual, sustained effort. I'm so proud of Lucy, Maggie, and Anna’s admirable accomplishments and their young adult lives unfolding.

Like the beguiling month of June, solutions to world problems like love, community, and education might fool us with simplicity. However, Asante cautioned us with the proverb that simple does not mean easy. I know mere talk results in nothing, while hard work is the road to gain. These graduation speeches sparked hope that we all can improve our future trajectory, and I'm glad for the inspiration. June - an envelope containing an invitation.

Let our hopes fly high!