My own commencement address
Gary Caruso
Capitol Comments
Commencement addresses are notorious for quickly fading from our memories. My commencement was no exception. Today, I only remember that the late journalist Carl Rowan received an honorary degree with me on May 20, 1973.
Several years ago I approached Rowan at a dinner where he was initially reluctant to speak with me until I mentioned that we were classmates. Funny how a commencement can have such a disarming quality decades later.
Each spring, I imagine that Notre Dame has invited me to address the graduating class. This year's fantasy address has special relevance for me because I am countering the President of the United States. As a former Clinton appointee that distinction gives me a measure of satisfaction.
As a Democrat, I emphatically oppose Bush's policies and politics, but still recognize that the class of 2001 is among a handful of Notre Dame classes to be honored by a presidential commencement address.
Yet, something is terribly wrong with our political system when African Americans vote by more than 95 percent for Democrats and against Republicans. The gender gap of women favoring Democrats and men favoring Republicans is a storm cloud in our future. Political changes are needed when Republicans are delighted that only 65 percent of Hispanics voted against the Republican president.
Bush will speak about prayer and faith, forgiveness and compassion, family and conservative values, service to the community, willing hearts and commitment to children, neighbors and God. Democrats find it ironic that George W. Bush's presidency is developing a pattern similar to Ronald Reagan's.
Both portray themselves as such patriots invoking God and prayer at every opportunity, yet both rarely attend church on Sunday. Since his inauguration, Bush has yet to worship in Washington. It is quite a contrast to the many Sunday mornings while I was walking the dogs when the Clinton motorcade silently passed to his church a block from my residence.
Regardless of what is said, this year's seniors will always remember that the president spoke to them. The late humorist Art Buchwald reminded graduates that nobody remembers commencements and only hoped that his audiences would at least remember that they laughed on graduation day. My wish is that graduates can learn to choose between the names Elliott and Nick.
It seems to me that life facing this year's seniors is like the cross-country journey director Rob Reiner portrayed in the movie "The Sure Thing." Two college students, John Cusack and Daphne Zuniga, traveled from New England to California. Their trek begins with absolute friction between them, but eventually grows into an understanding of each other.
Cusack, a free-spirited, crass freshman, uses a fake identification to drink beer and eats junk food for breakfast. He travels to visit a high school pal who has set Cusack up with a girl who is a "sure thing." Zuniga is on her way west to visit her cultured high school boyfriend whose greatest attribute is his collection of brands of tea.
Along the way Cusack shows the refined, introverted Zuniga how to shotgun a beer, live fast and be spontaneous. For her part, Zuniga teaches Cusack to be serious and more mature. In the end, Zuniga breaks up with her old boyfriend and Cusack refuses "the sure thing."
For me, the essence of the movie is captured when Zuniga says she would name her first child either Cynthia or Elliott. Cusack counters that Elliott is the "name of a fat kid with glasses who eats paste." Cusack continues, "Nick is a real name. Nick is a guy you can trust. Nick is a guy you go with to drink a beer."
Life for the class of 2001 will be a series of choices between the so-called Elliotts and Nicks. Those choices may not be as dramatic as the Hebrew saying, "Whoever saves one life saves the world in time." Yet, already these past four years students have affected the lives of their fellow classmates for better or worse, depending upon their degree of openness and tolerance.
This year students could choose between ROTC and Pax Christi or compromise between the extremes. They could support or oppose a public offering of "The Vagina Monologues." They could have added to another's life or chipped away at someone's pride by ignoring or ridiculing others.
Notre Dame strives to develop intellect, character and values. Yet, all too often, in an effort to attain such lofty ideals, individuality is sacrificed for a herd mentality. One will eventually learn in the real world, well beyond Catholic Disneyland, that diversity and tolerance are the strengths of our nation. Adaptability is the thread that ties civilized societies together.
Many of my fellow classmates have become disillusioned, are disturbed at the rapid rate of expansion on campus and are upset that money seems to be playing more of a role in life. Some are embarrassed at the administration's dealings with issues perceived to be contrary to Church teaching. It is sad to see friends, who as young "Nicks," were full of exuberance and loyalty, turn the magic twinkle once radiating from their eyes into the dull, disappointed glare.
People of presidential stature are remembered for the positions they held. Humorists like Art Buchwald are remembered for the way they entertained with laughter. My words today will fade surely as the seasons of the year turn.
But if just one member of this graduating class can instill pride and self-confidence in others as a result of my analogy of Nick, then my anti-commencement address has had value. We should always remember that everything we do has a consequence. For everything we take, we leave something behind.
Gary J. Caruso is a 1973 Notre Dame graduate and his column appears every other Friday.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Friday, April 27, 2001
