A Message to the Grads

I am not a big fan of graduation primarily because I am not good at letting go. I don’t want my students to leave. So, as I listen to commencement addresses (and I have heard many), I find myself composing one last message to my nearly former students.

My primary focus would be simple: the quality of our lives is a function of our relationships. Whether we spend our days in a lab or a theater, an office, or a classroom, ultimately, our connection to people, both those immediately around us and to the larger community, is what will determine both our personal happiness and our contributions to the future. And both are important!

To this end, I would ask the graduates to think about the effect of the work they choose. Mary Pipher, in her book, The Shelter of Each Other, makes the suggestion that young people take a pledge when graduating that they will never do "work that hurts children." She and I both think, "the morality of work is something [students] should consider, that it is a dimension they should evaluate, just as they evaluate pay, benefits and advancement potential." (Pipher 266).

American culture often focuses more on personal happiness than on our relationship, contribution, and obligation to the world around us. While I want my students to be happy, I believe that one important source of that happiness is leading a life of purpose and meaning. If all we want is our own selfish happiness, then what are we? What does that make us? If we cannot reach out to others and find happiness in those connections, then the happiness we find is no more than the selfish highs of substance abuse – and just as destructive.

My friend Michelle and I are speaking at the middle school graduation next month. Our speech has a simple theme: “Say hi in the halls.” Our advice to kids going into high school is to reach out to people: students, teachers, custodians, secretaries, everyone! We will tell them that high school (and life) will be far more successful if you are the one to smile first, put out your hand, and initiate the positive connection.

Of course difficult days are ahead. This is one of the points that CharlesWheelan, a professor at the University of Chicago made in a commencement address at Dartmouth. His talk focused on “the ten things you won’t hear at commencement.” And while I agree with his idea, my focus is more like his first “thing:” “Your time in fraternity basements was well spent.”

All of the items on Professor Wheelan’s list are either connected to relationships or are related to them. For example, while there may be difficult days ahead, our ability to deal with them is a function of the support networks we have woven for ourselves.

Finally, I would thank the graduates for leaving their mark on me. Everyone talks about special teachers who touched our lives. We remember them and honor their influence. Students are just as critical in the shaping of teachers. Teachers carry the lessons from their relationships with students from class to class and year to year. Former students come to mind a dozen times a day. They are with me far more than they will ever realize.

During my last class or two with graduating seniors, I invite them to come back and visit. I tell them they have a standing appointment with me. Whether they come back during their first Thanksgiving break or years after, when the person behind the reception desk asks if anyone is expecting them, the answer will always be, “Yes! Mr. Hirsch is expecting me.” And I am. 

Anne Thurman's Legacy

Anne Thurman would have been ninety-four years old today. Her life is proof of the enormous effect an educator can have. I could list her accomplishment, affiliations, and publications, but here is a good article that says it better than I could.

Anne taught me to be a teacher. Her class was the first one in which I worked with students, wrote lesson plans, and discussed the idea of Development Through Drama. And Anne modeled what she taught. I discovered that my favorite high school teacher was also a student of Anne Thurman.

It was in Anne’s class that I had my first teaching internship. I worked with second graders in Wilmette. One lesson focused on cowboys and Indians. After I did a Native American lesson the first half of the period, my partner taught a cowboy drama. We started by bucking broncos. The problem was, the broncos were imaginary and the kids were struggling to ride air ponies.

Anne usually sat in a corner and silently observed. You were in trouble if Anne entered your drama. My partner was working hard to make those horses real but the kids were struggling. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, “here’s a good pony you can train!” Anne cast me as the horse. The kids eyes brightened and I found myself being bucked by fifteen seven year-olds! Lesson saved!

Although Anne retired from Northwestern before I graduated, that didn’t stop her from being my teacher and guide. As I finished my student teaching, she called me to say that Chute Middle School needed a drama teacher and she had already given them my name. I explained to Anne that I was training to be a high school teacher and I hadn’t graduated yet! Anne had already arranged for my early graduation. She had spoken to Chute’s principal and cleared my path.

My time at Chute was remarkable and Anne was a constant resource. The fact that I wasn’t coming straight out of college was a key factor in landing an interview at Deerfield High School.

Anne guided me at Deerfield, too. We talked regularly and she encouraged me to write for the Illinois Theatre Association’s newsletter, the Follow Spot, which she was editing. She wanted an article on performances of student creative writing or needed a book review.

I remember my wife conveying a message from Anne while we were waiting for a play to start at Northwestern, “Can’t you tell her that it is the end of the quarter and you have grading? Can’t you take a rain check?” I shook my head and said, “No one says no to Anne Thurman. I can’t and I won’t. I’ll write the article.” And with that, the woman sitting in the row in front of us turns around and says, “I can’t say no to her either!” It was the wife of the director of the play!

No one could say no to Anne because working with Anne was a dynamic and wonderful experience. No one said no to Anne because what Anne did was meaningful and focused on kids. Working with Anne Thurman was a gift and only a fool would turn that down. I loved the fact that my college professor assigned me homework twenty years after I graduated.

I celebrate Anne in the classroom every day. As I “prime the pump” or “make it active” or remind myself that students are emotional as well as intellectual beings, I think of Anne. I am forever grateful for the gifts she gave me and for the opportunity to share them.