To those of you who received honors, awards, and distinctions, I say well done.
And to the C students, I say you, too, can be President.
George W Bush

The thing about graduation speeches is they are mostly wasted on the soon-to-be graduates, who are busy contemplating their post-graduation revelry or distracted by the cute classmate a few seats over, as well as the drop of sweat that is dripping down their backs beneath the polyester academic regalia. (Unless, of course, they are listening to Roger Federer at the upcoming Dartmouth graduation - he will unquestionably garner everyone’s attention.)

And although many of the speeches are full of good advice, cliches (follow your passion, today is the first day of the rest of your life, etc.), and lessons learned from the speaker’s life experience, each of the graduates will need to live their own life to earn the wisdom that is so freely given at the ceremony.

With no disrespect to the speakers who presented at my graduations long ago, I do not remember what was said and I do not remember who spoke (not Roger Federer).

Still, I love graduation speeches - and graduations for that matter - and this year it is personal.

Our baby is graduating from high school, and I find myself caught up in a long list of lasts, scrolling through old family pictures, and reliving memories. Proud and teary, I am what one might call a hot mess.

I am in the throes of it - figuring out logistics, who is coming and when, how many seats to save – and now that the short white dress for our soon-to-be graduate has been unearthed, what the heck am I going to wear? Because it’s all about me, right?

And while many are preparing for graduations in their own families (be it from kindergarten, middle school, high school, or college), all of these signify transitions - the leaving behind of the known and the preparation for the unknown. For parents, this also means another incremental step in the difficult process of letting go, camouflaged by the pomp and circumstance.

In the past, at this time of year, I have offered short snippets from former graduation speeches, but this year I have decided instead to pivot. (If you are aching for a good speech, though, google Jerry Seinfeld’s 2024 commencement address at Duke.)

So, while we wait for the picture-worthy moment when our son or daughter crosses the stage to accept a diploma, let me flip things around and share with you three lessons I have learned from our soon-to-be graduate. Our children are great teachers.

1. Don’t be afraid to go off the track and live life your way

From an early age, we are taught to get in line - alphabetically or by height - and to follow the leader on the path to recess or to lunch in the cafeteria. Color within the lines. Read from the script.

And this is certainly one way to go about life - it feels safe, orderly and organized. And of course, there is nothing wrong with that. It’s tried and true, it works.

But what if we improvised? What if our education is best delivered outside of a classroom? What if we pushed the tire out of the groove and onto a path with less indentation?

Our soon-to-be graduate has showed me just this in the way that she has navigated high school, as well as the plans she has made post-graduation.

And for me it is a little scary - where is she going? Will she come back?

But I am proud of her choices as well as her ability to follow her heart and create experiences that are broad and fulfilling, maybe different. She is braver than I am.

2. Why not make it from scratch

A few months ago, I bought a delicious ginger squash bisque to share with our daughter. She took one sip and said - you know, we can make this ourselves.

And off she went to find the ingredients. We chopped and diced and simmered…and lo and behold, she was right; together we created a really good soup, infinitely better than the one I had purchased. And the time spent side by side was time perfectly spent.

But it’s not just soup. She bakes and broils and air fries, and while I often look at cooking as a chore, our daughter enjoys every moment. She’s happy to command the kitchen, but happiest creating for others - Mother’s Day scones, a birthday cake, dinner for friends (and always from scratch). 

3. Sometimes it’s best to set boundaries

At our daughter’s school, seniors are invited to give a senior talk - something learned, a confession, or an insight to pass on to the younger students.

It is not mandatory. But me being me, I encouraged and nudged her to do it (well, maybe pushed and prodded). With my ultimate wisdom, I was sure this was an amazing opportunity to not only practice public speaking, but also to impact.

And while our daughter considered it, in the end she decided not to do it.

I was disappointed and let her know. To which she responded that it was her decision.

“Boundaries, Mom, boundaries.”

Of course, she was right. Hard for me to accept, but this young woman is making good decisions for herself, and she no longer needs me to weigh in unsolicited. Learning to construct boundaries when warranted – even when they are to keep your own mom at arm’s length - is a very good skill to learn.

But, alas, here we are. It’s time to let go of their hands and let our graduates cross the street (and stage) on their own, throw their caps, and smoke a cigar (if they must). This is their moment.

And the speeches? Some will be remembered, offered online - even quoted and revered for creativity and wisdom - but mostly not. Because it is not about the speeches.

(Unless the speaker is Roger Federer.)

And it’s only a little about us. The parents and the big, dark sunglasses we will wear to hide our tears - shed for both the pride and the loss we feel, hopefully remembering and appreciating the lessons our children have taught us.

But really, it’s all about the graduates. Their work, their stumbles, their accomplishments, the institutions that are launching them, the coach or teacher who believed in them, and their peers who lived it with them.

And tomorrow they will start again.

So, to the Class of 2024 - and to our very own graduate…

“You are the future. You are the best and the brightest. Believe in yourself. You did it”.

Congratulations.