To the Class of 2022: From Faculty Speaker Lupe Fisch

By Lupe Fisch

Usually, in these speeches, you hear a lot about your potential, and the amazing future you’ll have, and how absolutely great you all are, and all of that is true, but I want to talk to you about something different. I want to talk to you about your flaws, your imperfections. Those traits that lead to some struggle, the things you build “If only” statements about. “If only I could be more comfortable around new people, if only I could be more fit and buff and strong, if only I could do my work without hugging deadlines and waiting until the last minute.”

I know, that’s a rare one, but some people struggle with that. 

Very often, these things we perceive as flaws hold us back, make us timid about living fully, they make us wait, when there’s no need. So that’s why I want to talk to you about your flaws. But we need a metaphor, cuz Brian. 

So imagine a sweet, beautiful, inviting little teacup. The kind without the dish, the kind that you hold in both hands while your tea cools. It’s a special cup, maybe you bought it at a street fair with your own money when you were younger, maybe a friend made it for you. But it’s perfect. Its curves are elegant and organic. The texture and color of the glaze are like a masterpiece of abstract art; they draw you into contemplation and thoughtfulness. You’ve built rituals with this little teacup. Maybe you start your day with it, gazing out the window while you sip your tea, taking in nature's small transformations. Or you wind down with it before bed, taking stock of the highlights and stumbles of your day. It’s an inanimate object, but it is cherished. 

Then one day, the unthinkable happens. Maybe it slips while you’re washing it, or an elbow knocks it off the table. It takes your breath away, this little destruction. It’s just a teacup, you think to yourself, why do I feel like crying? Of course, you will try to glue it back together, it means too much to you not to try, but it won’t be the same. 

Turns out that for centuries, Japanese and other Asian cultures have practiced the art of Kintsugi. In Kintsugi, the broken pieces are bound together with an adhesive that contains precious metals like gold or silver. So instead of trying to hide the imperfections, they are highlighted and made beautiful. They add another level of uniqueness to the little teacup, making it more precious, and I want to emphasize this, more cherished. 

If George will let me to borrow his word, I hope this little metaphor helps you frame your gold-flecked imperfections, your identity-shaping flaws. They are an indispensable part of what we’ve loved about you, because they are part of who you are. You are beautiful. You are glorious. And you are enough. We’ll miss you.

Come visit me in Spain.