|
PRESIDENT NANNERL OVERHOLSER KEOHANE'S
CHARGE
TO THE CLASS OF 1990
It is often said that no one remembers commencements very
clearly -- too much is going on, and paradoxically, your
heightened state of consciousness means that everything
blurs into one vivid image, and you have a hard time in
later years recalling the details. I do not think that this
will be true for the Class of 1990. This is a world-class
Commencement, in every way, which you will share with
readers of papers and viewers of televisions literally
around the earth. And "Commencement" for you will always
mean, not just the day itself, but all the discussions, the
publicity, the bewildering degree of national attention.
All of us have spent a good deal of time recently
pondering this circumstance. Your choice of a Commencement
speaker, and the petition protesting that choice, struck a
chord, a nerve, with the world outside. I use the word
"outside" advisedly. Normally I reject the notion that
Wellesley is some kind of ivory tower, shut off from the
"real world", since all of us on campus are so much a part
of the economy, society and polity of the rest of the world
--and what happens at Wellesley is as real as anything can
be.
But in this case, one of the interesting lessons of all
this unprecedented visibility is that we on this campus make
some assumptions as part of our daily lives which are not
shared by most people in the world outside.
We assume, for example, that everyone -- including
students -- can and should make their voices heard in
expressing dissent as well as support for majority or
mainstream views. We think of this as the stuff of academic
freedom, and more basically, as a mundane familiar right we
all have in this country. We believe that dissenting ideas
should be expressed with civility, with openness, with
respect for other people even when you disagree -- and that
people should listen to such ideas, with similar respect.
Yet Wellesley students have been called all kinds of
unsavory names by people across the country for speaking
their minds, even in what began as an internal discussion of
our commencement speaker.
A sixth-grade class from Jacksonville, Florida wrote to
tell me that the Wellesley students must be very dumb to
express such views, and must not have learned anything at
all at our fancy college, and adjured me "not to give us any
of this First Amendment stuff," which they rightly
anticipated I might cite in your defense. I found this
rather chilling, I must tell you.
One lesson we all learned from your Commencement is that
the right to express your views, which we all take for
granted as our bread and butter, is not universally admitted
to be a "good thing," even in a country which prides itself
on being free.
And the first part of my charge to you, therefore, is
this: hold fast to your belief in the importance of free
speech, even and especially in expressing dissenting and
unpopular ideas. This is a lesson you as Wellesley women
showed throughout this spring that you have learned
supremely well -- not only those of you who signed the
petitions, but equally important, those of you who staunchly
defended your classmates' right to speak out for their
beliefs, even when you disagreed.
Another lesson of the spring was that there is still a
great deal of uncertainty out there about how we as women
should live our lives. On the Wellesley campus, serious
discussion of women's choices is the order of the day: we
all ponder, as students, faculty members, staff, the
challenges that face women -- and men -- who are attempting
to combine the various elements of a good life. We are so
familiar with these elements of a good life. We are so
familiar with these issues, and with their complexities,
that comes as a surprise to see how little thought most
people have given to such knotty questions.
And as the press accounts moved from the early rather
superficial reporting of the "Wellesley flap" to more
serious consideration of these fundamental issues, we have
had a splendid opportunity to help focus conversation about
the choices that we make these days, in dual-career couples,
with ambitions for parenting and professional success and
doing good works, and uncertainty about how we can make all
these good things come together in one life. All of you who
have met with the press have spoken with confidence and
caring about these issues, and demonstrated what it means to
be part of a community where such topics are regularly and
seriously discussed.
The world outside doesn't spend enough serious time
thinking about these things. In this way, you have done a
service to millions of other women and men who are wrestling
with these issues, by providing a "bully pulpit" for the
discussion of the most fundamental aspects of our lives.
Why should the choices for young women at age thirty who
want to combine career and marriage be so much tougher than
they are for equally talented and ambitious men? As Gloria
Steinem put it at Wellesley's Commencement in 1988, "Why
should 'having it all, for women inevitably mean doing it
all,?"
These are the crucial questions raised by our
Commencement controversy of 1990: not questions about
disrespect to the First Lady, which was never in the minds
of any Wellesley woman, nor underestimating the value of
motherhood and volunteering and nurturing, which we profess
as part of our college creed of service. Instead, the
questions are about whether society will allow young women
to become whole persons, expressing our talents and
ambitions and dreams individually, exploring, ranging
widely, forming relationships, defining ourselves, rather
than being defined by stereotypes of gender or race or
class.
And finally, another lesson of this spring was that
society is indeed changing, even if slowly. One point that
many of the thoughtful participants in our discussion made
was that the options for women have indeed become more
diverse since the 1940s, when Barbara Pierce left Smith to
marry George Bush and start a family. Today, a young women
in the class of 1990 might make the same decision, for the
same reasons. But she would also have doors open to her
which were closed to Mrs. Bush and her classmates -- doors
to professional training, to corporate management, to the
halls of government, to dangerous service in demanding posts
around the world.
The fact that women have more options today, and more
support from their families and friends in choosing among
them, is cause for optimism, but not for complacency. These
options are available because women and men have worked for
them, have fought for them. They are a legacy to you of the
Class of 1990 from many strong people in the past, who
fought hard against discrimination, ignorance, humiliation
and despair to create such opportunities. You must not
simply enjoy them and take them for granted. You must use
them wisely, you must build upon them, you must continue to
broaden the choices available to all women -- and all men --
as you make your own lives after Wellesley.
Fortunately, something appears to happen at Wellesley
that spurs our graduates to follow paths such as the one I
have just sketched out. One of your predecessors of the
Class of 1986, Bernice Harleston, was recently a Young
Alumna Trustee. Her life after Wellesley has already taken
her, in four years, to many interesting places: to Kenya,
for research and service; to Wall Street, for a taste of
corporate life as a financial analyst; and now to law school
at Howard University.
Bernice wrote a thoughtful letter to Wellesley in
response to our commencement controversy, in which she
compiled a list of "what Wellesley taught me," and it looks
like this: "Tolerate differences; define success broadly;
accept change -- and influence change; be bold, courageous
and compassionate."
I hope that when you look back on Wellesley in four years
or in forty, you will have roughly the same sense of what
our College gave to you.
Wellesley women of the Class of 1990: Armed with such
precepts, go out and make the world a better place for the
women and the men who will follow you. Live in it wisely and
well, for yourselves and for others. And remember that the
affectionate support and loyalty of our college is with you,
today and always.
|