Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Some comments about Justice Robert's comments

Supreme Court Justice Roberts recently delivered some graduation comments.

No, not at Harvard or Yale, but at Cardigan Mountain School.  Apparently his son was in the graduating class, if you can consider a 9th grade class passing out of a school to be graduating.

Now, let me first note, I hesitate to make comments regarding his address.  I so hesitate as I read his delivery first in Time and one of the first comments was some from self important twit who had a fit over  the line that "You’ve been at a school with just boys. Most of you will be going to a school with girls. I have no advice for you" and went on about that, reading a lot more into it than was obviously intended.

Oh grow up, you self important snob.  It was a joke.  Yes, maybe a lame joke, but not every comment to 9th Graders is supposed to be earth shaking, you twit.

I'll note that a lot of the press commentary, in contrast, was highly favorable to the speech, even fawning.  At least one writer found the theme to be a implied rebuke to the nature of Donald Trump, which I suspect is going a bit far.

Well, amyhow, with that I tread into comments myself.

First, the remarks:
Thank you very much.
Rain, somebody said, is like confetti from heaven. So even the heavens are celebrating this morning, joining the rest of us at this wonderful commencement ceremony. Before we go any further, graduates, you have an important task to perform because behind you are your parents and guardians. Two or three or four years ago, they drove into Cardigan, dropped you off, helped you get settled and then turned around and drove back out the gates. It was an extraordinary sacrifice for them. They drove down the trail of tears back to an emptier and lonelier house. They did that because the decision about your education, they knew, was about you. It was not about them. That sacrifice and others they made have brought you to this point. But this morning is not just about you. It is also about them, so I hope you will stand up and turn around and give them a great round of applause. Please
Now when somebody asks me how the remarks at Cardigan went, I will be able to say they were interrupted by applause. Congratulations, class of 2017. You’ve reached an important milestone. An important stage of your life is behind you. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you it is the easiest stage of your life, but it is in the books. While you’ve been at Cardigan, you have all been a part of an important international community as well. And I think that needs to be particularly recognized.
Now around the country today at colleges, high schools, middle schools, commencement speakers are standing before impatient graduates. And they are almost always saying the same things. They will say that today is a commencement exercise. ‘It is a beginning, not an end. You should look forward.’ And I think that is true enough, however, I think if you’re going to look forward to figure out where you’re going, it’s good to know where you’ve been and to look back as well. And I think if you look back to your first afternoon here at Cardigan, perhaps you will recall that you were lonely. Perhaps you will recall that you were a little scared, a little anxious. And now look at you. You are surrounded by friends that you call brothers, and you are confident in facing the next step in your education.
It is worth trying to think why that is so. And when you do, I think you may appreciate that it was because of the support of your classmates in the classroom, on the athletic field and in the dorms. And as far as the confidence goes, I think you will appreciate that it is not because you succeeded at everything you did, but because with the help of your friends, you were not afraid to fail. And if you did fail, you got up and tried again. And if you failed again, you got up and tried again. And if you failed again, it might be time to think about doing something else. But it was not just success, but not being afraid to fail that brought you to this point.
Now the commencement speakers will typically also wish you good luck and extend good wishes to you. I will not do that, and I’ll tell you why. From time to time in the years to come, I hope you will be treated unfairly, so that you will come to know the value of justice. I hope that you will suffer betrayal because that will teach you the importance of loyalty. Sorry to say, but I hope you will be lonely from time to time so that you don’t take friends for granted. I wish you bad luck, again, from time to time so that you will be conscious of the role of chance in life and understand that your success is not completely deserved and that the failure of others is not completely deserved either. And when you lose, as you will from time to time, I hope every now and then, your opponent will gloat over your failure. It is a way for you to understand the importance of sportsmanship. I hope you’ll be ignored so you know the importance of listening to others, and I hope you will have just enough pain to learn compassion. Whether I wish these things or not, they’re going to happen. And whether you benefit from them or not will depend upon your ability to see the message in your misfortunes.
Now commencement speakers are also expected to give some advice. They give grand advice, and they give some useful tips. The most common grand advice they give is for you to be yourself. It is an odd piece of advice to give people dressed identically, but you should — you should be yourself. But you should understand what that means. Unless you are perfect, it does not mean don’t make any changes. In a certain sense, you should not be yourself. You should try to become something better. People say ‘be yourself’ because they want you to resist the impulse to conform to what others want you to be. But you can’t be yourself if you don't learn who are, and you can’t learn who you are unless you think about it
The Greek philosopher Socrates said, ‘The unexamined life is not worth living.’ And while ‘just do it’ might be a good motto for some things, it’s not a good motto when it’s trying to figure out how to live your life that is before you. And one important clue to living a good life is to not to try to live the good life. The best way to lose the values that are central to who you are is frankly not to think about them at all.
So that’s the deep advice. Now some tips as you get ready to go to your new school. Other the last couple of years, I have gotten to know many of you young men pretty well, and I know you are good guys. But you are also privileged young men. And if you weren’t privileged when you came here, you are privileged now because you have been here. My advice is: Don’t act like it.
When you get to your new school, walk up and introduce yourself to the person who is raking the leaves, shoveling the snow or emptying the trash. Learn their name and call them by their name during your time at the school. Another piece of advice: When you pass by people you don’t recognize on the walks, smile, look them in the eye and say hello. The worst thing that will happen is that you will become known as the young man who smiles and says hello, and that is not a bad thing to start with.
You’ve been at a school with just boys. Most of you will be going to a school with girls. I have no advice for you.
The last bit of advice I’ll give you is very simple, but I think it could make a big difference in your life. Once a week, you should write a note to someone. Not an email. A note on a piece of paper. It will take you exactly 10 minutes. Talk to an adult, let them tell you what a stamp is. You can put the stamp on the envelope. Again, 10 minutes, once a week. I will help you, right now. I will dictate to you the first note you should write. It will say, ‘Dear [fill in the name of a teacher at Cardigan Mountain School].’ Say: ‘I have started at this new school. We are reading [blank] in English. Football or soccer practice is hard, but I’m enjoying it. Thank you for teaching me.’ Put it in an envelope, put a stamp on it and send it. It will mean a great deal to people who — for reasons most of us cannot contemplate — have dedicated themselves to teaching middle school boys. As I said, that will take you exactly 10 minutes a week. By the end of the school year, you will have sent notes to 40 people. Forty people will feel a little more special because you did, and they will think you are very special because of what you did. No one else is going to carry that dividend during your time at school.
Enough advice. I would like to end by reading some important lyrics. I cited the Greek philosopher Socrates earlier. These lyrics are from the great American philosopher, Bob Dylan. They’re almost 50 years old. He wrote them for his son, Jesse, who he was missing while he was on tour. It lists the hopes that a parent might have for a son and for a daughter. They’re also good goals for a son and a daughter. The wishes are beautiful, they’re timeless. They’re universal. They’re good and true, except for one: It is the wish that gives the song its title and its refrain. That wish is a parent’s lament. It’s not a good wish. So these are the lyrics from Forever Young by Bob Dylan:
May God bless you and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
And may you stay forever young
May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
And may you stay forever young
May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
May your song always be sung
And may you stay forever young
Thank you.
First, I'll note, for the most part, I like this speech.

Most of the commentary on the speech has been on his "I hope you fail" type of comments.  I'm not going to comment on those really.  I get his point.  No, what struck me was this line:
 I’m sorry to be the one to tell you it is the easiest stage of your life, but it is in the books.
That's really true.

People rarely directly acknowledge these things, but they do in a romantic fashion.  For most people, childhood remains a cherished, if sometimes painful, memory in their adult years.  Part of the reason for that is its the only time in our lives in which things are actually mostly easy, for most people.  Other people take care of your basic needs, you have free time, and possibilities seem endless.

Right about the time Justice Roberts addresses things begin to change, but subtly.  High school is harder than earlier years, but then you also have more freedom so its not so obvious.  Once you are past high school, however, things really start to get harder and harder. The heavy weight of decisions and the import begin.  The impact of decisions you make became increasingly irreversible.  Doors slam shut.  Some like to claim that whenever a door is closed another opens, but that isn't true at all. Some just slam shut leaving the entry way or exit way forever barred.  College is portrayed as an endless party in the popular media, but its far from it and failing in it is life altering. Completing it is also life altering.

Rarely noted by career counselors and the like, almost every adult career, and almost every adult must have one, is burdened by real difficulties.  Manual jobs, no matter how skilled, are typically burdened by the danger of obsolescence and the struggle for decent pay, as well as the agony, usually, of working for another, rather than yourself.  The professions, often imagined by parents to be a ticket into high wages and no work are in fact enormously burdened by the nature of their work.  Law, for example, imagined by some to be easy and lucrative has a depression rate second only to dentistry, which is another profession that people imagine for some reason to be easy.

This doesn't mean, of course, that adulthood is unending misery. But it isn't one sit com moment after the next.  "Marty" probably portrays the average adulthood even now better than, for example, "Friends".

Finally, while this is a 9th Grade "graduation", so a speech is a bit odd, but then this is a prep school, and frankly, I can't help but find the entire notion of a preparatory boarding school extremely odd, and partially in the context of what I've referenced above.  It's odd to think they still have them.  Which takes me to this line:
Two or three or four years ago, they drove into Cardigan, dropped you off, helped you get settled and then turned around and drove back out the gates. It was an extraordinary sacrifice for them. They drove down the trail of tears back to an emptier and lonelier house. They did that because the decision about your education, they knew, was about you. It was not about them. That sacrifice and others they made have brought you to this point. But this morning is not just about you. It is also about them, so I hope you will stand up and turn around and give them a great round of applause. 
I suppose dropping kids off like that is a sacrifice, but it's one that I can't admire except in extraordinary circumstances.  It focuses a theory of education above everything else usually.  There is, in my view, something deeply wrong with it.  Boarding school?  Eee gads, that's weird. Parents dumping off the children they claim to love to be raised by somebody else, there's something really wrong with that.

Now, granted, there are big exceptions, which goes with big burdens.  In some instances the need simply to educate an individual demands this be done, but those are rare.  And in others a unique aspect of the child's character requires it.  In some unusual circumstances the child desires it and the wish is granted. But in most instances like this, sending a kid to a school like this is usually to help to stack the deck in the future.  For most, they'll go from this prep school probably to another one, and then on to an Ivy League university. Their privileged present is being mortgaged, basically, for an even more privileged future.

Now, I'm not against private education.  I'm not a product of it myself, and the opportunities around here for it, while real, were limited.  But be that as it may, I really get it when people who live in cities in which there is a good private option go for it.  I fully understand why, for example, parents send their kids to the Madeline school in Salt Lake, or the Polish Catholic high school in Denver, or the Catholic high school in downtown Houston whose clean cut students I see on the streets right about the time school gets out.  I'd likely do the same.  But to ship a kid off to boarding school?  Man, that bothers me, except in the noted rare instances.

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