The Best Graduation Speech Ever...Sort Of

"St. John's"

I have a friend named Mulligan who lives down the lane. Some mornings he comes by for coffee and a talk; mostly he talks and I listen. I do not know what Mulligan does for a living exactly, but he once told me that, "I made money the old fashioned way; by using other peoples' money." Apparently, this talent has also provided him with a lot of free time.

Since it's June, our "discussion" turned towards graduations:

"I went to St. John's College in Maryland; they also have a campus in Santa Fe," Mulligan explained. "I had gone to a Jesuit high school in New York, where they taught Latin and Greek as if it was punishment for some unknown offense. Still, there was something attractive about the Classics to me, and St. John's specialized in classical Great Books education, from both Western and Eastern traditions.

I'm not exactly proud of the way I wound up going there. My grandfather was a pretty successful guy; he had gone straight to work after graduating from the eighth grade, and never stopped. He was a self-made man, who disliked Joe Kennedy, 'Ivy Leaguers,' and off-the-rack clothing in that order. He told me that he would pay the entire cost of my college education as long as I attended the college of his choice, St. John's. He meant, of course, the one located in Queens, primarily known for its basketball and baseball teams, and for its Law School, an entry-ticket into the theatre of local politics.

Tenaka

I had been a very good student and was actually a serious candidate for admission to the schools today's parents slobber over, Harvard, Princeton and Yale, naturally; and, in my day, Columbia and MIT as well. But, it became obvious that I could not ask my parents to pay big bucks, while turning down a free ride. So, I played a little four-year trick on my unsuspecting grandfather, who dutifully made out the checks, including my allowance to 'St. John's.'

I 'read' only the Classics in college, Herodotus, Catullus, Confucius, and had a real passion for the Eastern spiritual traditions: Taoism, Buddhism, etc. As graduation neared, I was named to a select team to pick the speaker. Since both of the other two team members had gone off to join some lower case version of Kesey's Merry Pranksters near Santa Fe, I got to make the decision all by myself. So, I invited the Roshi from a well-known Zen Monastery on Maryland's Eastern shore, where I had spent some time: Tenaka.

At Commencement, Tenaka walked to the microphone on the stage full of academic dignitaries, and we all waited in the hot, muggy air for what he had to say, especially me, for obvious reasons. Roshi walked slowly to the mike in his saffron and crimson robes. He was short and the audience could just see his full head above the podium. He looked out at that audience, then turned and looked at the dignitaries behind him, all of whom smiled back at his calm, unlined face.

And we waited and waited....and then waited some more. Roshi just looked out into the crowd of black-robed graduates and expectant relatives and faculty. And he kept looking at them minute after minute, after very slow minute. You could almost hear a ticking sound as we began to shift uncomfortably in our chairs, wipe the sweat from our eyes, wonder if the old gentleman was having some kind of a stroke.

"Graduation"

After a while, the President of the College and the Head of the Trustees began to stare at me in my seat of honor in the front row, and I became the most uncomfortable one of all in a sea of discomfort. 'Say something. Anything.' I thought to my embarrassed self. But, it finally became clear that Tenaka wasn't going to say a thing; he was going to stand there, and I was going to have to suffer for it all the way through, I supposed, the full 12-15 minute suggested length of the "speech."

When the audience had tired of wiping all the sweat away, shimmying in their seats, giving funny looks, and rolling their eyeballs, the murmuring began, then it turned into a steady rumble, and then some began to shout some pretty rude things at Tenaka. He just continued to look over the crowd as if he were looking over a field of poppies or a beautiful seascape in his native Japan. The more uncomfortable we became, the more serene Roshi seemed to be.

Just before he 'finished,' it finally occurred to me that he had in fact made the perfect speech. By saying nothing, he had said it all, at least to me. It was as if he really had said, 'you're all so full of yourselves that you do not even remember who you really are or were meant to be. You've been getting your pablum in many forms for a long time and I am not going to give you any more. You expected a message about the evils of money or war, helping people in Africa, or following your 'bliss.' But, life is not about anything, not health or love or soul or body or meditation, and certainly not about a bliss derived from drugs or ego...

...Life is, is all. Tough luck. Thank you, now, I'm going.' Or, something like that, I supposed. It sounded better unsaid.

By the time we had received our diplomas, most people were just happy to get into the shade and smoke a doob, rather than to think too much about the 'stunt' the so-called speaker had sprung on them. For some parents, it confirmed what they had thought all along about their daughters' and sons' decision to study only the Great Books. What kind of job could you get with that, they wondered? And might be wondering still.

I escorted Roshi to the car waiting to take him back to the monastery. I'm proud to say that neither one of us said a single word. He just got into the car and drove off.

"But what happened," I asked Mulligsn, "when your grandfather asked about attending his St. John's graduation?"

"Aquaduct"

"I couldn't disappoint him. I had a friend who worked in administration at his St. John's in Queens. She simply added me to the list of graduates and diplomas to be printed. They had such a large graduating class that nobody noticed. I invited my grandfather (I had already 'confessed' to my parents some time before), took my seat, received my 'diploma,' and went to lunch at 21 Club, wearing a new graduation suit made for me by my grandfather's tailor, Promevitz. Later I went to Aqueduct and made the last two races."

"Who was the speaker at that graduation?" I asked. "Haven't a clue." said Mulligan.