Thank you, Mr. Fader, and thank you, seniors, for asking me to speak today. I’m going to begin by singing a short part of a song by John Lennon:

Nobody told me there’d be days like these,

Nobody told me there’d be days like these,

Nobody told me there’d be days like these,

Strange days, indeed,

Strange days, indeed.

That song has been rockin’ and rollin’ in my head for some months, now, and it probably will for some time to come.

I want to speak truth to you today. I also want to speak hope to you today. I know that you don’t want any sugar coating from me, but I do want you to know that there is some good that will come out of all of this, and you are a major part of that good. This speech has gone through many changes since you first asked me back in January to be your speaker. I originally wanted to say something to you about how your life’s path may not always be a straight line, that it might have twists and turns and unexpected detours that take you to places you never planned to visit, or perhaps didn’t even know existed. Little did I know.

I thought of using my own twisty-turny path through college . . . uh, make that four colleges, and five and a half years (an adventure brought on by my own doing) . . . to get a bachelor’s degree. I thought I’d compare the journey of life to the search for the Northwest Passage, that fabled, oft-imagined direct water route through North America from the Atlantic to the Pacific that Thomas Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark to find (you knew I’d eventually slip some history in there, didn’t you?!)

I eventually realized that it all comes down to you. You are the examples of the success that can come from an indirect, crazily disrupted path, “the long and winding road, bop bah . . .” that Paul McCartney sang about. You’ve been through so much in such a short time. Your families have been through it with you, perhaps many of them in much more close contact with you than they ever imagined or wanted to imagine.

I’ve been through it with you, too. We’re ending our Williams careers together — you’re graduating, I’m retiring. We’ve missed some events and rituals that usually go along with those endings. I know, and I share, your sadness and your sense of loss. When I left school two weeks before Spring Break for surgery and recovery, I had no idea that Thursday, February 20th would be the last day that I would ever teach in my classroom.

Having said all that, I want us to remember to think about how much we have to look forward to. We’re starting new phases, new adventures in our lives. Each of you has a special place that you’re heading to next year. You’re probably nervous about that, and excited. Guess what — so are your parents, so please be nice to them. Some of you may be the first child to leave home for college. Some of you may be at the other end of that spectrum and are creating that proverbial empty nest. If you’re an only child, then you’re really creating a double whammy! So, be nice to your parents. The first time that you come back home after being away, be mindful of how that household operates, be mindful of the people that still live there. I think of that Mark Twain quote about his father, and though some of the details may be different for you, the message is still the same: Be nice to yourself. Remember that life is and will be messy. A direct path for you to success and fulfillment may not exist, just as that Northwest Passage did not exist for Lewis and Clark. That didn’t stop them from achieving great accomplishments along the way, though, did it? Won’t stop you, either. As a matter of fact, that long and winding road full of twists and turns may just bring you more happiness than you ever imagined possible. Kinda like the animated movie "Cars," travelling the old Route 66 instead of speeding along on the interstate highway.

We’re in this new world together, you and I, this simultaneous ending and beginning, this omega and alpha, and so much of it is unknown, uncharted territory that it can be scary and unsettling, but I want you to keep in mind that we are going to come out of it together, and we’re going to come out of it with something very special because of our unique position in all of it: a heightened appreciation for the basics, the human basics, like hugs, handshakes, high fives. I look forward to the day when you and I will share one or more of those hallmarks of humanity — a hug, a handshake, a high five.

Thank you for asking me to be your speaker, thank you for being you. Now, you head off for some further education in college or elsewhere, and I’m gonna head off for some kicks on Route 66. Happy commencement!

(Peter Emanuel, the History Department Chair and former Music Teacher, gave the Williams School Faculty Commencement Address.)