Student Commencement Speech 1991
Karla E. Cooper
The origins of this speech go back to my sophomore year
at Wellesley as I was planning to write an English paper on
the poetry of Nikki Giovanni, an African-American woman
writer.
In the process of doing my research, I discovered
something unusual. In my other English classes, I had heard
many lectures and discussions about Shakespeare's portrayal
of women, Spenser's attitude toward women, and so on, but in
Giovanni's beautiful poems, I was hearing for the first time
a woman's voice, loud and clear. I felt as though she were
speaking directly to me.
Two and a half years later, I stand before you, an
English and Women's Studies major with a whole new direction
in life. I have read the work of many inspiring writers
since I wrote that paper about Nikki Giovanni's poetry, but
I keep coming back to her words again and again. Especially
during this sentimental final year at Wellesley, I have
often been struck by the strong connections between her
words and the lessons that Wellesley teaches all of us.
One of her poems that I find best illustrates these
connections is called "Space." In it, she describes a flying
saucer that lands in her living room, and the visitor that
emerges from it. She expresses her confusion at how to
approach the space person, since she does not know where it
comes from, what gender it is, or even if gender exists in
its homeland. But the final three stanzas of the poem show
the surprising ease of conversation between the speaker and
this space creature.
Here is how Giovanni describes the encounter:
I think I should tell you
she reported as she stepped from her craft
you possibly are not seeing me
depending on the solar year
you may only be seeing my aura
don't worry i assured her
happy it was a woman
depending on my aura
you are most likely only seeing
my solar years
we sat down to talk
What is so amazing about this poem is that we as readers
don't know what this space woman looks like. We don't know
if her aura is beautiful or monstrous. Giovanni's point, of
course, is that it doesn't matter. The speaker know
immediately that the space creature is a woman, and with
that as the sole connection the two share, they "sit down to
talk."
In the imaginary situation that Giovanni describes, this
instant communication may seem farfetched. However, we have
all experienced this phenomenon at Wellesley College. Take
for example, your first day of orientation, first year. Each
of us had a great sense of anticipation that day, much like
what Giovanni describes in her poem.
We each waited anxiously to meet our roommate, this girl
(that's how we thought then) from a different town, a
different state, a different country. Classic stereotypes
ran through our minds as we wondered how she would be
different from us. Would she be a wealthy debutante who wore
strings of pearls, even with her pajamas? Or, would she be
an ardent feminist/environmentalist/activist who carried
picket signs to class?
Hopefully, most of us, like the speaker in Giovanni's
poem, were pleasantly surprised on that first day to be able
to connect with our new roommate on some level. We were
finally able to focus on our similarities as well as our
differences. I will never forget how relieved I was to see
my roommate's warm smile. Of course, her Boston accent made
me feel at first like she was from Mars. But fortunately, I
quickly got used to her accent and she got used to mine, and
we began to learn
and grow from each other's differences. And, like
Giovanni and her space woman, we were always able to just
"sit down to talk."
I believe that all of us in the Class of 1991 have
experienced this powerful connection, if not with our
roommates, then with other Wellesley women we have known in
our dorms, our classes, and our organizations. It is
important for us not only to appreciate these connections,
but also to recognize as we leave this wonderful place, that
they carry with them a great responsibility.
This idea became clear to me last January when I attended
a political demonstration in a small Ohio town. It was a
cold, windy night and there were only about twenty of us
standing on the courthouse steps chanting and holding
candles, while over one thousand opposing demonstrators
marched around us, drowning out our chants with their own.
Surprisingly, I was one of only a few college-age women
there. One older woman, about 50, approached me and smiled
weakly. "I have been fighting this battle for twenty years,"
she said, "and I am so tired... I'm counting on you young
women to take over this fight."
That strong woman, that tired woman, said it better than
I ever could, and I often hear her words when I least expect
to..."I'm counting on you young women to take over this
fight." Her poignant statement applies to all of us who are
graduating today. Regardless of the cause or causes that you
choose to support, whatever it is that you care for, support
it actively and thoughtfully. Reach out to the older women
who have lived through the history of the movement, learn
from them, and make their fight your own.
Throughout our education at Wellesley College, we have
all learned about the women who came before us, the women
who struggled against the majority so that we could do the
things we now take for granted, such as attend an excellent
college and look forward to a life full of our own choices.
Today, and always, we have an obligation to these women,
especially, to take over their fight. This does not mean we
have to sacrifice our future careers and families in order
to become full-time women's rights activists. It does mean,
however, that in all of our struggles and experiences,
whatever they may be, we must make ourselves aware of the
way that women are viewed and affected by the organizations
that we support, the graduate schools that we attend, and
the companies that we work for.
Speaking out against the injustice that we witness or
experience will almost never be easy. We should be prepared,
for out in the real world, we may not feel as supported as
we often do at Wellesley. We may be part of a minority, much
like I was at the demonstration I described. Even more
frightening, many of us may be alone in our struggles.
But as women, we must never lose sight of the
significance of simply using our own voices, whatever the
purpose. And as Wellesley graduates, we must never lose
sight of the education and spirit that support us, and make
our voices even louder.
In celebration of the life-long connections that we have
all made at Wellesley College and in celebration of the
strong woman each of us has become, I would like to close
with an excerpt from another poem by Nikki Giovanni called
"Revolutionary Dreams."
i used to dream radical dreams
of blowing everyone away with my perceptive powers of
correct analysis
i even used to think i'd be the one
to stop the riot and negotiate the peace
then i awoke and dug
that if i dreamed natural
dreams of being a natural
woman doing what a woman
does when she's natural
i would have a revolution.
Thank you.
***
Karla Elizabeth Cooper Commencement 1991 Student Speaker
Karla Cooper, an honors student with an English and
Women's Studies double major, is deeply committed to issues
affecting women in our society. Internships with Planned
Parenthood and the National Organization for Women
reinforced her beliefs and a position in the Legal
Department of the Cincinnati Financial Corporation
influenced her decision to study law.
Before entering the University of Cincinnati's Law
School, Karla plans to return to her native town of
Hamilton, Ohio to continue an ongoing series of oral
histories of her own family.
While at Wellesley she has been a member of the Wellesley
College Choir, a tour guide for the Board of Admission, and
helped to produce and write a class musical during her
junior year. She was also a disc jockey for the campus radio
station and an active participant in dormitory government.
During her senior year, she served as a Resident Advisor in
her dorm, Bates Hall.
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