Graduation Speech That Never Was

Our class is impossible to sum up in two minutes. Rather than trying to do the impossible, I will instead share with you the one thing that has most inspired me: You. All of you.

My past four years have been a privilege because I was lucky enough to spend them as a member of the Class of 2012. You all have managed to do two things that seem contradictory: celebrate the individual and sustain community.

We have band members who play football and soccer players who do drama. Someone who in the same year can go to states in both cross-country and Science Olympiad isn’t unusual. We live outside ordinary boxes. Never once have I been made to feel out of place because I did something different or out of the ordinary. We respect and we celebrate everyone in our class for who they are as individuals.

At the same time we bring ourselves together to create an amazing community. There is a sense of united purpose everywhere you go at Haverford that is both inspiring and humbling.

As we move into a world at once growing more connected and more diverse, our ability to celebrate the individual and embrace the community will serve us well. No matter where life takes us we will be able to value the people we encounter for who they are while at the same time working for something greater than ourselves. We are well poised to take William Arthur Ward’s advice, “Do more than care: help. Do more than dream: work. Do more than belong: participate.”

Thank you. And Congratulations Class of 2012!!!

Words Unspoken

A dim light
Illuminates a book unopened.
Door swings wide
Light and smoke and music
Filter in, unoticed.
A solitary figure
Lays outstretched on
Dusty wooden boards.
Shadows lay long
On her face, worn
Down by years spent
Through the half-cracked window
Pours a subtle wind that
Swings the door shut and
Turns pages untouched
She notices the soft silence
And gazes towards the
Inviting Ancient Words

Wake Up Call

The world crashed
Into my life
One clear spring morning.
Lights and windows and books
Strewn about the floor
As I stagger dust-coated
Out of bed.
Bulbs dangle sparking
From the remnants of a
Roof caved in.
Dust and debris dance in
Sunbeams pouring through
What's left of windows.
I stand aghast, unable to
Understand what the
World is doing,
Lying in my living room.

Drogheda

Mist lurks among the mountains,
Hanging heavy around the stones
And seeping beneath travelers' cloaks
As they pause by a signpost.

A man steps forward, he takes in the
tangled mass of suggestions, he turns
To Drogheda
The rest shuffle behind, following the staff-less shepherd.

Clouds join with the mist and rain falls
Heavy on the damp earth
The unelected leading the flock falls
He lies by the wayside and sinks into the muck
They continue onward

Stumbling, they feel the ground rise
Twists and detours and just-missed drops
Herd them towards the unnoticed peak
Suddenly the wind picks up;

They stop only seconds from an
Uneven edge and a long fall.
Below them a valley drowns in fog.
A solitary mountain pokes its head above the cloud.

The darkness crawls up the mountainside to meet them
And one by one they step out into the void,
Towards the lonely peak across the solid air.
Blackness closes in, envelopes them, and billows on.