2011 Valedictory Address
By Miriam Westin '11
Good morning Ms. Robinson, Bishop McManus, President McFarland, Senior Vice President Vellaccio, Dean Austin, Dean Freeman, Members of the Board of Trustees, Honored Guests, Faculty and Staff, Parents, Relatives and Friends, Fellow Members of the Class of 2011. Thank you all for taking the time, and for some, the very long trip, to be with us here today!
It is an absolute joy for me to stand in front of you as a member of the now graduated class of 2011. I still remember driving up the hill to the campus of Holy Cross in August of 2007, wondering how on earth I managed to come to such a special place (and whether or not those football players really went to my school).
Do you remember why you chose to come to Holy Cross – Jesuit, liberal arts, undergraduate? Did it have anything to do with Worcester's proximity to Mike's Pastries in Boston? Confession. That was on my list of “pros” for coming to this school. Who were you at the time? Were you the kid the tour guides talk about who wanted to start a knitting club on campus? Did you come in declared Pre-med, later to graduate a Studio Art major? Were you terrified beyond belief by the idea of an unknown roommate? Did you spend much of your time in communal confusion, constantly asking, what am I supposed to do? I can honestly say that I did all of the above. Let's be honest, though; not one of us knew the type of person we would become or what would capture our hearts.
When we were still underclassmen, we experienced the epic move of Kimball to traylessness. Then the downsizing of the plastic cups, the shape-shifting of the spoons. The glass wall that used to exist in Haberlin Hall was probably removed on account of all the dents from our foreheads. Many of us were the last FYPers in Holy Cross history. We all got the email about baby Jesus and seven Christmas trees missing from the manger. Some of you spent most days trapped in Smith Labs, Dinand, Millard, or the Classics library, to emerge only on weekends. Through the years, many of us spent entire nights writing papers ... others, building soapbox cars for Spring Weekend. And then, during midterms and finals, finally all in the same boat, we would heave recognizable sighs as we passed each other on campus. Though we challenged one another and took up residence in different corners of different buildings, our identities remain undeniably linked - even if, up until today, you'd never even heard the name of your classmate sitting next to you. Through it all, we have been together. And of course, our Father McFarland has always been present there with us, in his generous last four years at the College: for the students a source of consistency, loving respect, and firm compassion. Let me just say that, if the choice had been ours to make, many of us would have been happy to name the new apartments McFarland Hall.
What a crazy four years. Never did I imagine that I had so much to learn. My first semester in FYP and Physics quickly made that clear. Ever since then, you and I have been discovering what is new around and within ourselves. In classes, late-night chats with roommates, immersion trips, office hours, semesters across the world, Cool Beans dates, and lectures, we have been constantly growing. Our identities have been shaped and our individualities brought forth. We were given no scripts or molds from which to work. Everyone has had their own way of dealing with the challenges of college. We, the students of the class of 2011, have been challenged to learn more, to give more, and to receive more.
I could not have known upon acceptance what was in store for me: being led and having the absolute honor of leading and serving alongside the brightest and most generous people. Learning the art of rejection and of letting go. Praying for strength and rejoicing over incredible accomplishments. Being taught that what I did not think was possible, sincerely is. Being open to incredible beauty found in most unlikely places. Learning about the struggle toward justice, but simultaneously being given the strength, support and tools to engage in that struggle. No matter who we are, in what field we find ourselves or with whom, we have found that integrity is always at stake. After our four years here, the choices between avarice and altruism, between despair and hope, and between cynicism and wonder, will now always be conscious ones to be made.
Was four years not enough? Too long? Either way, today marks the end of this era for us. How could so many blessings fit in such a short period of time? Just look at the results of the combinations of this time and this place, these people, and these experiences. And what comes next? That is beyond me to say. But let me remind you of a moment from our early days here that I suggest you allow to be an indicator of what may yet come. The first day of freshman year, Dean Freeman described our upcoming four years at Holy Cross as a delicious and substantial meal. I challenge you to see the rest of your life in the same way. A meal that we must both enjoy and improve upon. An experience of mutual gain for ourselves and others.
We have seen what is possible. Think of the life of one individual who never stopped taking it all in, and then giving it all away again: a professor by whom many members of our class were taught and inspired. Professor Jody Ziegler exemplified a high standard of beauty, and a refusal to add anything but beauty to this world we've been given. In fact, in her work toward the inclusion of ethics in every discipline, she epitomized one of the most important lessons Holy Cross has taught me: the lesson of how, as my friend put it, “to be a real person.” A real person is one who asks the question “why”; she does not take everything at face value. He looks at the implications of what he studies, lest education become merely entertainment. This person lets what she loves influence her actions; she does not grow cold and divided in herself. Finally, this person considers the suffering stranger in decision-making.
These people who we have become in the past four years must not remain here while we are whisked away off this hill. Rather, I challenge you to continue asking the questions you have been asking here, and to demand an explanation for unjust realities facing so many, in systems of which we often find ourselves a part. At Holy Cross, we have become part of a community in the truest sense of the word. We have been surrounded by faculty and classmates who have hope, energy and commitment for a better world. They live lives that exemplify on the micro level what we deeply desire on the macro.
In this process of becoming undeniably ourselves, our hearts have expanded to let in others. We are not alone; our fields of vision have been interrupted, inhabited. In the faces of your seven hundred classmates seated around you, you have seen that no humans are commodities. Now (math majors) take those 700, and multiply by ten, now a hundred, and now ten thousand. These are your new classmates. Suddenly, today, our small community expands exponentially.
Our education does not end here. There is so much more for us to know; when we learn to humbly receive – to accept love, especially – we learn how to give. This is what I have known at Holy Cross: how to graciously receive and abundantly give. The time has come to give of what we now have, but also to live openly in a strange new world that still has much to offer. To take this world, as messy as it is, and work with it. A man by the name of Jean Vanier once said,
The response to war is to live like brothers and sisters. The response to injustice is to share. The response to despair is a limitless trust and hope. The response to prejudice and hatred is forgiveness. To work for community is to work for humanity. To work for peace is to work for a true political solution; it is to work for the Kingdom of God. It is to work to enable everyone to live and taste the secret joys of the human person united to the eternal.
For the feast that we have been part of, I'd like to say a short thanks: and for that which awaits us beyond these gates, a grace. Bless us, oh Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty.
Class of 2011, do not let the feast end here. Never stop taking in the beauty and wonder of what is around you. And never stop from shining that which is within you: the authentic “you” who this time and place has allowed to unveil.
My dear classmates. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for the past four years. If I keep talking, maybe I won't have to let you go. But what you've got, we cannot keep confined on this hill. Congratulations! Now go, start your life of fullness in relationships, in education, in experiences, in faith, in understanding and in love. Bring nothing less than all of you (and perhaps a few “borrowed” Kimball cups) to this new feast.
Audio:
The valedictory speech is available in MP3 format for download to your computer or MP3 player.