To the Class of 2022: From Faculty Speaker, George Heinrichs
The following is the first in our three-part installment of faculty and student speeches delivered at this year’s graduation ceremony for the class of 2022:
By George Heinrichs
Some of you may not know I am a new father. My dad told me that once you become a parent, you become quite boring and all you can do is talk about your kid. And so…let me talk about my kid. And, don’t worry, all of you as well.
My daughter Viyan is the most wonderful child in the whole wide world. Becoming a dad has been magical…and deeply unnerving. During the time I have been home with her, I have come up with some lessons that I think we can all learn from:
Be like a baby.
Be like a parent.
Be a parent to yourself.
Babies are incredible, adorable, and bad at literally everything on earth. That should make you feel better about yourself, right? Babies can't eat well, they can't sleep well, they have no hand-eye coordination…they don't even know they have hands! Essentially, they come out too early to be functional. If I were to grade Viyan when she was first born, on a 4-point scale, on just about any skill, she would get a 0 for not turning in any work.
"Viyan, can you hold your own head up?" 0/4.
"Can you make any sound other than a cry or a burp?" 0/4.
“Can you integrate quotes into your writing prompts?” 0/4.
If we were judged at birth, we would all be considered failures.
That's why I love babies. They don't focus on the lack; they just set about growing and pushing themselves out of love for the world, out of necessity and instinct. They won't be stopped. Even if, at times, you'd like to stop them for a moment. Viyan just learned to roll over. Good girl. I was very proud. Now she is insatiable. You must watch her every second lest she rolls off the changing table, out of the stroller, out of your lap. I would give her a 3.5 out of 4 on her rolls. She wouldn't care, though.
If you want to do something, be like a baby. Shove your little face into the floor 100 times until you get your hips to come with you. Rewrite your thesis statement a hundred times until your writing catches up with your thoughts. Pursue with love and passion. Don't care how ridiculous you look. When you were a baby, YOU didn’t care about how ridiculous you looked. If you did, you all would still be helpless little loaves.
Now, trying and pursuing does not mean we don’t get frustrated. We do. Viyan cried when she couldn't roll over. She cries when she is hungry, tired, not tired…just…she cries. Babies cry. And that's good. That's normal. The first thing you want to hear when your baby is delivered is her cry. Crying means she has healthy lungs. Crying means she has an opinion. And judging by how much Viyan cries, she is VERY opinionated.
Sometimes we need to cry; we need to let out our emotions. For the past two-and-a-half years, Covid has been with us. It has been miserable. And as much as we have adjusted, I hope you let yourself bawl sometimes. Just wail. Bunch up your little fists and cry till you fall asleep. It means you’re alive. Fully alive and ready to grow some more.
As you go on with your lives, I want you to keep on being like a baby: Endlessly curious. Relentless in your pursuits. Willing to show your emotions.
Of course, it helps to have a parent around. Until I became a parent myself, I had no idea just how helpless a baby is. Viyan was so tiny and delicate; she relied on me to keep her safe, and I felt large, lumbering, incapable, terrified. What if I messed up? What if I didn't know what to do? But I had to learn to overcome my anxiety, live with and accept it and still operate. Because Viyan needed me. Being a parent means giving yourself fully. You cannot just think of yourself.
What does that have to do with you? Everything. You are leaving the world of childhood. Society now expects you not just to take care of yourself but also to take care of others. You are, each of you, now an adult. You have younger generations to care for, and a world to take care of. And here’s a scary fact: You are now closer in age to being new parents than you are to your infancy. It is your turn to care for others, to take care of the world. This is a big responsibility. It's a lot to put on you. Believe me, I know how you feel. But you must move forward. Patiently. With purpose. For others. You can't let the cries of others go unanswered. You must be like a parent.
Finally, you need to be a parent to yourself.
The past four months have given me a lot of time to sit and think. There have been times I have been anxious and depressed. I know many of you have felt this way. With thoughts that endlessly spin. For me, it’s “What if I'm a bad parent? What if I've been a bad teacher? What if I haven't given enough of myself to the world? What about all the problems in the world that seem to be growing like a tidal wave ready to sweep away everything I love and care about?” Maybe you’ve had similar anxieties that come with growing up and feeling responsible.
The answer I’ve found might be the answer for all of us. Love. Unconditional love. I would love my brilliant, beautiful daughter even if she never laughed, smiled, crawled, or rolled over. I cannot imagine ever not loving her. And I know I will keep loving her the same way, even when she goes through those inevitable times when she feels unlovable–unworthy of being loved by anyone. And her mother and I will do our best to show her she deserves the love–not just of us, but of herself.
We carry with us the baby we once were and that we still are. And we carry with us the parents we will be to ourselves, and to the world.
Nurture that baby in you. Be proud of yourself as you grow…because you know you always will grow. Let yourself take risks. Remember, you tried to fit an entire rattle into your mouth! You were born to take risks.
Finding the balance between allowing yourself to grow, taking risks while staying reasonably safe, pushing yourself, and loving who you are regardless of success or failure. This is hard. This is the work of a lifetime. It’s the work of a baby. It’s the work of a parent.
Over time, you might come up with ways to figure out this life thing. You'll optimize, find shortcuts, invent little tricks. You'll become more efficient at learning and growing. You'll get better and better, closer and closer to mastery of a job, a passion, at life. But whenever you feel too much like you have everything figured out, look into yourself. Find your inner baby. Lift her to your ear at 3:00 a.m. and let her scream. Here’s what your inner baby is telling you: Life is not a problem to be solved. Life is full of growing pains, and of growing. It’s a matter of loving, and being loved. I’M GROWING, your inner baby is saying. LOVE ME.
Or maybe your baby is crying because she just soiled her diaper. Not all babies are metaphorical.
So, class of 2022. Go into the world with curiosity. Flop around on your stomach. Take responsibility for others and yourself. Help others grow. And love yourself unconditionally.