Vonnegut's 1997 Commencement Address
Malcolm Lawrence (Malcolm@wolfenet.com)
Fri, 01 Aug 1997 17:00:42 -0700
Hello all. I hope everyone's having a glorious summer. A friend just forwarded this to me and I thought I'd pass it on.
Salute!
Malcolm
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This speech was given by Kurt Vonnegut at MIT's
commencement this year . . .
Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future,
sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been
proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more
reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never
mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth
until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at
photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much
possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You
are not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that
worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by
chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be
things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that
blindside you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put
up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're
ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end,
it's only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If
you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank
statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do
with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at
22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most
interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll
miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have
children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe
you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever
you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself
either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be
afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the
greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living
room. Read the directions, even if you don't follow them. Do not
read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be
gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link
to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the
future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious
few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography
and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people
who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes
you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it
makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise.
Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you
do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable,
politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have
a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never
know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're
40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with
those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it
is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting
over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
Kurt Vonnegut, 6/97