畢業(yè)典禮上的激勵(lì)性英語(yǔ)演講稿

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　　畢業(yè)典禮上的激勵(lì)性英語(yǔ)演講稿1

　　Chancellor Wrighton, members of the Board of Trustees and the Administration, distinguished faculty, Class of 1965, hard-working staff, my fellow honorees, proud and relieved parents, calm and serene grandparents, distracted but secretly pleased siblings, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, graduating students, good morning. I am deeply honored that you have asked me here to say a few words at this momentous occasion, that you might find what I have to say worthy of your attention on so important a day at this remarkable institution.

　　It had been my intention this morning to parcel out some good advice at the end of theseremarks – the "goodness" of that being of course subjective in the extreme – but then Irealized that this is the land of Mark Twain, and I came to the conclusion that anycommentary today ought to be framed in the sublime shadow of this quote of his: "Its notthat the world is full of fools, its just that lightening isnt distributed right." … More on Mr.Twain later.

　　I am in the business of history. It is my job to try to discern some patterns and themes fromthe past to help us interpret our dizzyingly confusing and sometimes dismaying present.Without a knowledge of that past, how can we possibly know where we are and, mostimportant, where we are going? Over the years Ive come to understand an important fact, Ithink: that we are not condemned to repeat, as the cliché goes and we are fond of quoting,what we dont remember. Thats a clever, even poetic phrase, but not even close to the truth.Nor are there cycles of history, as the academic community periodically promotes. The Bible,Ecclesiastes to be specific, got it right, I think: "What has been will be again. What has beendone will be done again. There is nothing new under the sun."

　　What that means is that human nature never changes. Or almost never changes. We havecontinually superimposed our complex and contradictory nature over the random course ofhuman events. All of our inherent strengths and weaknesses, our greed and generosity, ourpuritanism and our prurience parade before our eyes, generation after generation aftergeneration. This often gives us the impression that history does repeat itself. It doesnt. Itjust rhymes, Mark Twain is supposed to have said…but he didnt (more on him later).

　　Over the many years of practicing, I have come to the realization that history is not a fixedthing, a collection of precise dates, facts and events (even cogent commencement quotes)that add up to a quantifiable, certain, confidently known, truth. It is a mysterious andmalleable thing. And each generation rediscovers and re-examines that part of its past thatgives its present, and most important, its future new meaning, new possibilities and new power.

　　Listen. For most of the forty years Ive been making historical documentaries, I have beenhaunted and inspired by a handful of sentences from an extraordinary speech I came acrossearly in my professional life by a neighbor of yours just up the road in Springfield, Illinois. InJanuary of 1838, shortly before his 29th birthday, a tall, thin lawyer, prone to bouts ofdebilitating depression, addressed the Young Mens Lyceum. The topic that day was nationalsecurity. "At what point shall we expect the approach of danger?" he asked his audience. "…Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant to step the Earth and crush us at a blow?"Then he answered his own question: "Never. All the armies of Europe, Asia, and Africa … couldnot by force take a drink from the Ohio [River] or make a track on the Blue Ridge in a trial of athousand years … If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As anation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide." It is a stunning,remarkable statement.

　　That young man was, of course, Abraham Lincoln, and he would go on to preside over theclosest this country has ever come to near national suicide, our Civil War – fought over themeaning of freedom in America. And yet embedded in his extraordinary, disturbing andprescient words is a fundamental optimism that implicitly acknowledges the geographicalforce-field two mighty oceans and two relatively benign neighbors north and south haveprovided for us since the British burned the White House in the War of 1812.

　　We have counted on Abraham Lincoln for more than a century and a half to get it right whenthe undertow in the tide of those human events has threatened to overwhelm and capsize us.We always come back to him for the kind of sustaining vision of why we Americans still agree tocohere, why unlike any other country on earth, we are still stitched together by words and, mostimportant, their dangerous progeny, ideas. We return to him for a sense of unity, conscienceand national purpose. To escape what the late historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., said is ourproblem today: "too much pluribus, not enough unum."

　　It seems to me that Lincoln gave our fragile experiment a conscious shock that enabled it tooutgrow the monumental hypocrisy of slavery inherited at our founding and permitted us all,slave owner as well as slave, to have literally, as he put it at Gettysburg, "a new birth offreedom."

　　Lincolns Springfield speech also suggests what is so great and so good about the people whoinhabit this lucky and exquisite country of ours (thats the world you now inherit): our workethic, our restlessness, our innovation and our improvisation, our communities and ourinstitutions of higher learning, our suspicion of power; the fact that we seem resolutelydedicated to parsing the meaning between individual and collective freedom; that we arededicated to understanding what Thomas Jefferson really meant when he wrote thatinscrutable phrase "the pursuit of Happiness."

　　But ladies and gentlemen, the isolation of those two mighty oceans has also helped toincubate habits and patterns less beneficial to us: our devotion to money and guns; ourcertainty – about everything; our stubborn insistence on our own exceptionalism, blinding usto that which needs repair, our preoccupation with always making the other wrong, at anindividual as well as global level.

　　And then there is the issue of race, which was foremost on the mind of Lincoln back in 1838. Itis still here with us today. The jazz trumpeter Wynton Marsalis told me that healing thisquestion of race was what "the kingdom needed in order to be well." Before the enormousstrides in equality achieved in statutes and laws in the 150 years since the Civil War thatLincoln correctly predicted would come are in danger of being undone by our still imperfecthuman nature and by politicians who now insist on a hypocritical color-blindness – after fourcenturies of discrimination. That discrimination now takes on new, sometimes subtler, lessobvious but still malevolent forms today. The chains of slavery have been broken, thank God,and so too has the feudal dependence of sharecroppers as the vengeful Jim Crow era recedes(sort of) into the distant past. But now in places like – but not limited to – your otherneighbors a few miles as the crow flies from here in Ferguson, we see the ghastly remnants ofour great shame emerging still, the shame Lincoln thought would lead to national suicide, ourinability to see beyond the color of someones skin. It has been with us since our founding.

　　When Thomas Jefferson wrote that immortal second sentence of the Declaration that begins, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal…," he owned more thana hundred human beings. He never saw the contradiction, he never saw the hypocrisy, andmore important never saw fit in his lifetime to free any one of those human beings, ensuring aswe went forward that the young United States – born with such glorious promise – would bebedeviled by race, that it would take a bloody, bloody Civil War to even begin to redress theimbalance.

　　But the shame continues: prison populations exploding with young black men, young black menkilled almost weekly by policemen, whole communities of color burdened by corruptmunicipalities that resemble more the predatory company store of a supposedly bygone erathan a responsible local government. Our cities and towns and suburbs cannot become modernplantations.

　　It is unconscionable, as you emerge from this privileged sanctuary, that a few miles fromhere – and nearly everywhere else in America: Baltimore, New York City, North Charleston,Cleveland, Oklahoma, Sanford, Florida, nearly everywhere else – we are still playing out, sadly,an utterly American story, that the same stultifying conditions and sentiments that brought onour Civil War are still on such vivid and unpleasant display. Today, today. Theres nothingnew under the sun.

　　Many years after our Civil War, in 1883, Mark Twain took up writing in earnest a novel he hadstarted and abandoned several times over the last half-dozen years. It would be a different kindof story from his celebrated Tom Sawyer book, told this time in the plain language of hisMissouri boyhood – and it would be his masterpiece.

　　Set near here, before the Civil War and emancipation, ‘the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn isthe story of two runaways – a white boy, Tom Sawyers old friend Huck, fleeing civilization, anda black man, Jim, who is running away from slavery. They escape together on a raft goingdown the Mississippi.The novel reaches its moral climax when Huck is faced with a terrible choice. He believes he has committed a grievous sin in helping Jim escape, and he finally writes out a letter, telling Jims owner where her runaway property can be found. Huck feels good about doing this at first, he says, and marvels at "how close I came to being lost and going to hell."

　　But then he hesitates, thinking about how kind Jim has been to him during their adventure. "…Somehow," Huck says, "I couldnt seem to strike no place to harden me against him, but only the other kind. Id see him standing my watch on top of hisn, ‘stead of calling me, so I could go on sleeping; and see how glad he was when I come back out of the fog;…and such like times; and would always call me honey…and do everything he could think of for me, and how good he always was…"

　　Then, Huck remembers the letter he has written. "I took it up, and held it in my hand," he says. "I was a-trembling because Id got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself: ‘All right then, Ill go to hell – and tore it up."

　　That may be the finest moment in all of American literature. Ernest Hemingway thought all of American literature began at that moment.

　　Twain, himself, writing after the Civil War and after the collapse of Reconstruction, a misunderstood period devoted to trying to enforce civil rights, was actually expressing his profound disappointment that racial differences still persisted in America, that racism still festered in this favored land, founded as it was on the most noble principle yet advanced by humankind – that all men are created equal. That civil war had not cleansed our original sin, a sin we continue to confront today, daily, in this supposedly enlightened "post-racial" time.

　　It is into this disorienting and sometimes disappointing world that you now plummet, Im afraid, unprotected from the shelter of family and school. You have fresh prospects and real dreams and I wish each and every one of you the very best. But I am drafting you now into a new Union Army that must be committed to preserving the values, the sense of humor, the sense of cohesion that have long been a part of our American nature, too. You have no choice, youve been called up, and it is your difficult, but great and challenging responsibility to help change things and set us right again.

　　Let me apologize to you in advance on behalf of all the people up here. We broke it, but youve got to fix it. Youre joining a movement that must be dedicated above all else – career and personal advancement – to the preservation of this countrys most enduring ideals. You have to learn, and then re-teach the rest of us that equality – real equality – is the hallmark and birthright of ALL Americans. Thankfully, you will become a vanguard against a new separatism that seems to have infected our ranks, a vanguard against those forces that, in the name of our great democracy, have managed to diminish it. Then, you can change human nature just a bit, to appeal, as Lincoln also implored us, to appeal to "the better angels of our nature." Thats the objective. And I know, I know you can do it.

　　Ok. Rounding third.

　　Let me speak directly to the graduating class. (Watch out. Here comes the advice.)

　　Remember: Black lives matter. All lives matter.

　　Reject fundamentalism wherever it raises its ugly head. Its not civilized. Choose to live in theBedford Falls of "Its a Wonderful Life," not its oppressive opposite, Pottersville.

　　Do not descend too deeply into specialism. Educate all of your parts. You will be healthier.

　　Replace cynicism with its old-fashioned antidote, skepticism.

　　Dont confuse monetary success with excellence. The poet Robert Penn Warren once warnedme that "careerism is death."

　　Try not to make the other wrong.

　　Be curious, not cool.

　　Remember, insecurity makes liars of us all.

　　Listen to jazz. A lot, a lot. It is our music.

　　Read. The book is still the greatest manmade machine of all – not the car, not the TV, not thecomputer or the smartphone.

　　Do not allow our social media to segregate us into ever smaller tribes and clans, fiercely andsometimes appropriately loyal to our group, but also capable of metastasizing into profounddistrust of the other.

　　Serve your country. By all means serve your country. But insist that we fight the right wars.Governments always forget that.

　　Convince your government that the real threat, as Lincoln knew, comes from within.Governments always forget that, too. Do not let your government outsource honesty,transparency or candor. Do not let your government outsource democracy.

　　Vote. Elect good leaders. When he was nominated in 1936, Franklin Delano Roosevelt said, "Better the occasional faults of a government that lives in a spirit of charity than theconsistent omissions of a government frozen in the ice of its own indifference." We alldeserve the former. And insist on it.

　　Insist that we support science and the arts, especially the arts. They have nothing to do withthe actual defense of the country – they just make our country worth defending.

　　Be about the "unum," not the "pluribus."

　　Do not lose your enthusiasm. In its Greek etymology, the word enthusiasm means simply, "God in us."

　　And even though lightning still isnt distributed right, try not to be a fool. It just gets MarkTwain riled up a bit.

　　And if you ever find yourself in Hucks spot, if youve "got to decide betwixt two things," do theright thing. Dont forget to tear up the letter. He didnt go to hell – and you wont either.

　　So we come to an end of something today – and for you also a very special beginning. Godspeed to you all.

　　畢業(yè)典禮上的激勵(lì)性英語(yǔ)演講稿2

　　When I was in middle school, a poisonous spider bit my right hand. I ran to my mom for help—but instead of taking me to a doctor, my mom set my hand on fire.After wrapping my hand withseveral layers of cotton, then soaking it in wine, she put a chopstick into my mouth,and ignited the cotton. Heat quickly penetrated the cotton and began to roast my hand. The searing pain made me want to scream, but the chopstick prevented it. All I could do was watch my hand burn - one minute, then two minutes –until mom put out the fire.

　　You see, the part of China I grew up in was a rural village, and at that time pre-industrial. When I was born, my village had no cars, no telephones, no electricity, not even running water. And we certainly didn’t have access to modern medical resources. There was no doctor my mother could bring me to see about my spider bite.

　　For those who study biology, you may have grasped the science behind my mom’s cure: heat deactivates proteins, and a spider’s venom is simply a form of protein. It’s coolhow that folk remedy actually incorporates basic biochemistry, isn’t itBut I am a PhD student in biochemistry at Harvard, I now know that better, less painful and less risky treatments existed. So I can’t help but ask myself, why I didn’t receive oneat the time.

　　Fifteen years have passed since that incident. I am happy to report that my hand is fine. But this question lingers, and I continue to be troubled by the unequal distribution of scientific knowledge throughout the world. We have learned to edit the human genome and unlock many secrets of how cancer progresses. We can manipulate neuronal activity literally with the switch of a light. Each year brings more advances in biomedical research-exciting, transformative accomplishments. Yet, despite the knowledge we have amassed, we haven’t been so successful in deploying it to where it’s needed most. According to the World Bank, twelve percent of the world’s population lives on less than $2 a day. Malnutrition kills more than 3 million children annually. Three hundred million peopleare afflicted by malaria globally. All over the world, we constantly see these problems of poverty, illness, and lack of resources impeding the flow of scientific information. Lifesaving knowledge we take for granted in the modern world is often unavailable in these underdeveloped regions.And in far too many places, people are still essentially trying to cure a spider bite with fire.

　　While studying at Harvard, I saw how scientific knowledge can help others in simple, yet profound ways. The bird flu pandemic in the 2000s looked to my village like a spell cast by demons. Our folk medicine didn’t even have half-measures to offer. What’s more, farmers didn’t know the difference between common cold and flu; they didn’t understand that the flu was much more lethal than the common cold. Most people were also unaware that the virus could transmit across different species.So when I realized that simple hygiene practices like separating different animal species could contain the spread of the disease, and that I could help make this knowledge available to my village, that was my first ―Aha‖ moment as a budding scientist. But it was more than that: it was also a vital inflection point in my own ethical development, my own self-understanding as a member of the global community.

　　Harvard dares us to dream big, to aspire to change the world. Here on this Commencement Day, we are probably thinking of grand destinations and big adventures that await us. As for me, I am also thinking of the farmers in my village. My experiencehere reminds me how important it is for researchersto communicateour knowledge to those who need it. Because by using the sciencewe already have, we

　　could probably bring my village and thousands like it into the world you and I take for granted every day. And that’s an impact every one of us can make!

　　But the question is, will we make the effort or not.

　　More than ever before,our society emphasizes science and innovation. But an equally important emphasis should be on distributing the knowledge we have to where it’s needed. Changing the world doesn’t mean thateveryone has to find the next big thing. It can be as simple as becoming better communicators, and finding more creative ways to pass on the knowledge we have to people like my mom and the farmers in their local community. Our society also needs to recognize that the equal distribution of knowledge is a pivotal step of human development, and work to bring this into reality.

　　And if we do that, then perhaps a teenager in rural China who is bitten by a spider will not have to burn his hand, but will know to seek a doctor instead.

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