To the class of 2015

My application to be the Class of 2015 commencement speaker was overlooked. I guess Duke frowns upon bestowing the honor on individuals that are still students in their undergraduate program. However, considering the public reaction to the more “distinguished” guest, I’ll just assume an implicit heartfelt apology from the graduation committee. Based on Paul Farmer’s criteria for what constitutes a good commencement speech, I was objectively the better choice. I cross the apparently low threshold of understanding the game of basketball better than Mr. Farmer—in fact, I’m classmates with those mythical creatures called Jahlil and Justice. My major still exists at Duke. I also have professors and friends and know the name of Duke’s president. Had Farmer chosen to make his case for speaker on the grounds of humanitarian service it may have been a closer comparison—my prospective Duke Engage Seattle verses his Conrad N. Hilton Humanitarian award. Instead, he chose to fight his battle on who could relate more to the Duke student body. What he failed to realize is I, being a student, relate quite well. Thus, I would like to deliver the commencement speech the Class of 2015 has been waiting for.

Since my colleague’s avant garde approach to speechmaking went a bit astray, I’ll stick to a textbook formula for graduation speeches. I’ll pat you on the back, share some defining experiences from my own life, and impart the wisdom that will enable you to survive in the real world.

I will give one—and only one—shout-out to class of 2015. They deserve it because they’re graduating. I’m capping my shout-outs at one, not for historical, practical, or rational reasons but because I have absolutely no idea how to arbitrarily divide the student body into sub shout-outs. Way to go, guys. You did it. Okay, enough about you.

It’s not everyday you get insight into someone with two years less maturity and life experience than you. Someone whose shoes you’ve already been in. Someone you once were but have since grown into a stronger, more capable person. It behooves you to heed my advice. When I first entered Perkins library— arms full of books, eager smile on my face— I was a boy embarking on his own journey for the first time. I’m proud to say two years later, I don’t go to the library anymore. If you’re wondering what the point of this anecdote is or why it’s not in a high-school graduation speech, maybe you should stop being so critical of your commencement speakers. Other useful pro tips include adding variety to your diet by using merchants-on-points, not scheduling 8:30 classes, and taking the C2 often. I guarantee all of this specific advice would have increased your quality of life before you graduated. I can only hope you interpret them as metaphors now.

I don’t think many of you will make it. I’m not saying this out of cruelty but to warn you of the harsh realities of the real world. I’ve acquired the kind of wisdom that only comes from twenty years of living through almost no adversity. I don’t want you to just be “okay”, I want you to be better than “okay”. So here goes: Live and let learn, treat people the way you want to be treated, live and let learn, YOLO, fortune favors the bold. When UNC invites me to give their commencement speech, I’ll combine these adages and probably switch some of the words around. Considering you're Duke students, I’ll just leave you these basic ingredients and if you so desire some cliché advice masked as nuanced insight, you can write it yourself.

I’m going to wrap this up because speeches are a pain to write and a pain to listen to. And I understand the concept of mutually beneficial. In the following years, I expect Duke will be rather aggressive in pursuing me for their commencement address. I’ll say beforehand, that they’ve burned that bridge. However, if any well-known author realizes that a speech of this caliber forecasts an impressive personal legacy, I will discuss book rights. May I suggest the title, Rivers beyond Rivers?

Kyle Harvey is a Trinity junior. His column will run bi-weekly in the fall.