En el umbral — On the Threshold…

By Lupe Fisch

(The following graduation speech was delivered to our Class of 2023:)

I’m going to try to sound wise, as is befitting a person of my advanced age. Life comes with bookends, there is the big beginning  (which your parents are remembering fondly right now as they wonder what the heck happened), and there’s the big end. And in between there are innumerable small and medium beginnings and ends. All of you, brilliant, beautiful graduates, and I, venerable retiring teacher, are at one of those medium ends. En el umbral, on the threshold of a medium beginning. We have inhabited the known for some time, even our fears and anxieties bring us the comfort of familiarity. Big exams, and comment writing periods, are obstacles we’ve surmounted many times, and there’s a comfort in that. 

However, en el umbral, on the threshold, there is no guarantee of sure-footedness as we cross blindly over to the other side. Our fears and anxieties take on the added flavor of the unknown, but with the added thrill of a new beginning. The promise of adventure, of new and marvelous things to learn, of the fascinating and as yet unimaginable human connections that await us. 

All the ends and beginnings we’ve experienced so far have helped prepare us for this one. But what will it be like, really, for you and for me, to arrive at a place where we don’t know anyone, where we have to forge friendships, figure out how to navigate a new city or neighborhood? For you, how to share a room with somebody you’ve never met, figure out how to feed yourselves, manage your money, do your laundry. For me, how to create a sense of purpose for myself when teaching has been at the core of my identity since I was nine years old, and how to maintain a sense of connection with the family and friends that will be a whole ocean away. These are all lessons that await us, you and me. Nothing makes us feel alive quite like the excitement of the unknown tinged with a little sprinkle of terror. 

The big ending arrives for all of us sooner or later. And I hate to be a downer, but sometimes it comes a lot sooner than we’re ready for. So the wisdom I want to leave you with, hard-earned wisdom I learned through repeated crossing of el umbral, is that you step over it with joy, with a sense of wonder, and with the certainty that you will find your way to the familiar again. 

Enjoy your youth, take the kind of risks that lead more to growth than harm, and for heaven’s sake, take good care of your knees, they’ll go a lot sooner than you'll expect. Valencia waits for you.