A Look Backward and A Look Ahead
THE SENIORS' VALEDICTORY
THIS DAY, which for so long has been our future, which we and those closest to us have worked toward and dreamed of for years, which for some here this morning has seemed at times a mirage on a desert of difficulties, and for others marks the end of a Big Green oasis, has come at last. It is a time of intense love and pride. These emotions, so evident in the sometimes boisterous voices of our fathers, in the smiles of our mothers, in the radiant eyes of our girls, in the awe of our younger brothers and sisters, would brighten even Leverone Field House on a stormy day. Yet, though happiness must be a conspicuous sentiment on such an occasion, it is not the only one, and for many of us is not even our dominant emotion.
We are now concluding four years of life in Hanover, years which have extended from freshman beanies through GI ties to caps and gowns. During this period, we have shared many varied expressions and impressions of Dartmouth: icy hands shaping the Carnival snow statues; spring water fights in which even Dean Seymour got drenched - accidentally, of course; the crackling quiet of the Reserve Room before exams; long road trips in crowded cars to the great cultural centers of the East - Colby, Smith, Wellesley, Stowe; Professor West's last lecture; conversations in which acquaintances became friends and friends revealed and discussed their ideas, their problems, their hopes. Out of these and many more experiences has evolved the Dartmouth fellowship. Bonds of special, strong and lasting friendships have been formed, and the growth of these bonds has been for many of us an important, perhaps the most important, aspect of Dartmouth. Saying "so long" to our friends today will be no easy task.
Nor will it be without regret that most of us bid farewell to Hanover, for there is in this small, clean New England town a magic out of which memories are made - the reds and golds of Balch Hill on a football weekend, the "gleaming, dreaming" white walls of Dartmouth Row, Baker Tower seen across the green on a snowy night, the golf course in the spring.
Already we look back with nostalgia. Youth, however, also looks ahead. This ceremony is aptly entitled a commencement, and to commence, of course, means to begin. We stand uncertain on the threshold of many new and challenging experiences, each of us wondering what the words "Safe at last in the wide, wide world" will entail for him. The somewhat sheltered lives which many of us have led during our school days will be over. None of us expects life to be without its difficulties, but we do expect that many will make a success of it in their own ways - we hope that each man graduating this morning will continue to have experiences equivalent for him in his unique individuality to Tom Spangenberg's 96-yard run with that intercepted Holy Cross pass, to John Carpenter's last goal against Cornell, to the thrill of learning when, through his own efforts and those of his professors, difficult concepts flowered into understandable truths; to his best Green Key; to everything which was the best of his Dartmouth experience.
We go forth from Dartmouth hopefully, some of us idealistically, perhaps naively, dreaming of somehow helping to solve great, complicated problems of human relations. How much influence we will actually have upon the destinies of our fellow men can not be predicted. It may not be as much as we wish. Every day, however, situations will arise wherein every one of us will affect his life and those of others by his moral decisions. No matter whether the consequences seem insignificant or extremely vital, the attitude with which we approach these decisions is all-important. William Faulkner, speaking at the Oxford (Miss.) High School commencement several years ago, with these words urged his audience to have faith and courage:
"It is not men in the mass who can and will save Man. It is Man himself, created in the image of God so that he shall have the power and the will to choose right from wrong, and so be able to save himself because he is worth saving; - Man, the individual, men and women, who will refuse always to be tricked or frightened or bribed into surrendering not just the right but the duty, too, to choose between justice and injustice, courage and cowardice, sacrifice and greed, pity and self; - who will believe always not only in the right of man to be free of injustice and rapacity and deception, but the duty and responsibility of man to see that justice and truth and pity and compassion are done.
"So never be afraid. Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion, against injustice and lying and greed."
Ideals are, by definition, easier said than done. Each of us knows from experience perience that ethical decisions, even when the alternatives are clearly defined, are very often difficult to make. This does not, however, lessen the value of striving to attain an ideal. If we attempt to take our direction from Faulkner's exhortation, if we attempt to overcome our fears and speak out for what we believe is right, then perhaps we can make realities of some of our dreams.
Of course, even as we think of ideals, we are aware of our human shortcomings. We have been for the past four years, and will be forevermore, sons of Dartmouth. All our lives, we have been sons in a family relationship. As both the deans and our parents will attest, in neither case have we been perfect sons. I know that I myself, just as on some bleak winter days I found it difficult to acknowledge my feelings for the College, have found it equally difficult at times to acknowledge my love for my parents. And I imagine that all of us have given our parents many uneasy moments. We hope that these moments today may in some small part be repayment for the troubles we have caused you - for your anger and grief when we walked out of the room and slammed the door when you refused to allow us to buy - or, perhaps, refused to buy for us - that 1949 Ford which was in so much better condition than it looked; for your despair when we called you one Sunday afternoon and told you that we had decided to drop out of school and join the Marines; for the time when we hitch-hiked home for vacation and kept you waiting and worrying because we passed too close to Saratoga not to stop for the evening at Skidmore; for your bewilderment on the many occasions, when we couldn't understand each other. Today we as a class in unison say to our parents, "Thank you." Thank you for all your concern, your guidance, your sacrifices on our behalf, your love.
As we go out from Dartmouth today, we also express our appreciation to everyone who has contributed to the stimulating and valuable educational experience which has been ours. We look back, and realize that, truly, the College is "miraculously builded in our hearts." We face the future with courage and with hope.
Valedictorian Michael J. Landay '64
