You Are Not Special - Because Everyone Is

Commencement Speech from Wellesley High School

The below is taken from www.huffingtonpost.com

Wellesley High School English teacher David McCullough may try to avoid clichés like the plague, but his unconventional message in his faculty speech to the Class of 2012 raised numerous eyebrows last Friday.

Instead of lauding the achievements of the graduating class — a popular tactic among commencement speakers — McCullough took the opportunity to remind the Wellesley, Ma. seniors that selflessness is the best personal quality to possess, and that “the sweetest joys of life … come only with the recognition that you’re not special, because everyone is.”

The full text comes courtesy of The Swellesley Report. Excerpt below:

“Here we are on a literal level playing field. That matters. That says something. And your ceremonial costume … shapeless, uniform, one-size-fits-all. Whether male or female, tall or short, scholar or slacker, spray-tanned prom queen or intergalactic X-Box assassin, each of you is dressed, you’ll notice, exactly the same. And your diploma … but for your name, exactly the same.

All of this is as it should be, because none of you is special.

You are not special. You are not exceptional.

Contrary to what your u9 soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you … you’re nothing special.”

McCullough lamented the tendency of Americans as of late to “love accolades more than genuine achievement.”

“It’s an epidemic — and in its way, not even dear old Wellesley High is immune … one of the best of the 37,000 nationwide, Wellesley High School … where good is no longer good enough, where a B is the new C, and the midlevel curriculum is called Advanced College Placement. And I hope you caught me when I said “one of the best.” I said “one of the best” so we can feel better about ourselves, so we can bask in a little easy distinction, however vague and unverifiable, and count ourselves among the elite, whoever they might be, and enjoy a perceived leg up on the perceived competition. But the phrase defies logic. By definition there can be only one best. You’re it or you’re not.”

McCullough urged the Class of 2012 not to just do things for the sake of personal accomplishment or self-indulgence, but because “you love it and believe in its importance.”

This isn’t the first time McCullough’s commencement remarks have made news. In 2006, he was remembered for telling then-graduating Wellesley students to “carpe the heck out of every diem” — a signature line he alluded to in his 2012 address.

An interview with McCullough taken from www.wbur.org

Sacha Pfeiffer: What message did you want to get across to the kids? Was this intended to be a harsh message?

I wouldn’t call it harsh, no. I hoped it was realistic. Several people who have taken lines out of context –the sensationalizers and carnival barkers who are looking for a sound bite to exploit for ratings purposes — seized on that “you’re not special.” I hoped that pointing out that they’re not exceptional, they’re not special, would be liberating for them. If children are treated like they’re special, there is an implication, particularly from demanding parents, of expectation. Don’t you know you’re special? That means you should be achieving more than you are. And that expectation pressures kids, and that pressure makes them conservative and safe and unwilling to take chances. And that, in my view, inhibits their capacities or the possibility of growth.

You talked about some lines being taken out of context. And the line that is most often quoted is, “You’re not special.” Of course, what comes after that is, “Everyone is special.”

Of course. Of course.

But what do you mean by that? That everyone is special?

That everyone deserves to be treated with respect and taken seriously and cared about. Everyone on the planet. If everyone is special, then it kind of nullifies the concept of specialness. I wanted to emphasize for them that though you may have been the valedictorian, though you may have been a touchdown hero, that doesn’t make you a more important person. And when I sit and I look at my students in my classroom, each one of them is as important to me as any of the others.

There’s a point in your speech where you said: “If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless. We Americans, to our detriment, have come to love accolades more than genuine achievement.” Would you pick up a little bit after that?

No longer is it how you play the game. No longer is it even whether you even win, or lose, or learn, or grow or enjoy yourself doing it. Now it’s, ‘So what does this get me?’ As a consequence, we cheapen worthy endeavors, and building a Guatemalan medical clinic becomes more about the application to Bowdoin than the well-being of Guatemalans. It’s an epidemic. And in its way, not even dear old Wellesley High is immune. One of the best of the 37,000 nationwide, Wellesley High School — where good is no longer good enough, where a B is the new C, and the mid-level curriculum is called Advanced College Placement.

So this gets at the idea that at the most elite colleges, it’s not even great grades that are enough. You just need to be a knock-out student with ridiculous extracurricular activities.

That’s the perception, certainly. And so kids and their loving, well-meaning, ambitious parents want very much for their kids to have access to the best, and so they schedule them up to the earlobes and they demand from them extraordinary achievement in everything they do, and suddenly any capacity for self-determination or experimentation or failure goes right out the window. I try to tell my students that the only adult to whom they owe anything, really, is the adult they’re going to become. And they shouldn’t want that person to look back at them and shake his or head and say, “Oh, jeez. You blew it. You should have been thinking differently.”

So in many ways this is as much or more a critique of parents, it seems, than of students and kids.

And I’m one of those parents, and so I know whereof I speak. I say all of these things in sympathy with these parents. I feel, too, the same cultural encouragements, the same pressures, the same desire to see my kids have access to the best education available to them, the best experience. And I don’t know what to do about it! I’m trying, I’m thinking, and maybe this speech of mine might encourage conversation, which might inspire some change.