I never used to like
graduations. To me, they always marked an ending, an ending for many
close relationships developed over the time together. It marked a time
when you should be ‘getting‑on’ with your life; going out into the
‘real‑world’; a time when all of your friends would be leaving to pursue
their lives and careers.
I now know that
graduation in not an ending, but a beginning. It marks not the end of
relationships, but chances to make new ones. We should build upon those
friendships forged here; not forget them. And, believe it or not, you
have already been in a ‘real world.’ You have been running your own
business over these past years... You have been dealing with deadlines;
with money management; with time management. The final product of
which, is you.
Our years here at Wayne
State started out fairly benign. We met at orientation, picked up our
first set of notes. In hindsight, I realize that I had absolutely no
clue what I was getting into. My first shock was when I almost threw my
back out picking up the old scribes!
Gross Anatomy was a bit
of a shock too... that smell... how it stuck to your books, your
clothes, everything. Try as you might, you could not escape it. It had
a life of its own.
Soon followed Histology,
Biochemistry, Physiology... all those slides of tissues, enzymes, and
pathways made us dizzy, but we learned it. We thought, “how can much of
this really apply to the practice of medicine?”
We all thought second
year was going to be better than first year, right? More clinically
relevant material? True, it was, but we also found out that they were
taking it easy on us during first year. Now was the time to get down to
some serious studying, in preparation for the upcoming Boards.
Ah... Studying for
boards... What fond memories... how calm we all were. How well
prepared we found ourselves. More than once had I thought of putting
Valium into the water supply. We were insane! Every year, classes
ahead look back on upcoming classes and think were we that anal
retentive?’ They try to think not, but they were. Stressed or not, we
were all happy to be done with Boards.
Third year was fun. We
got a chance to get out and actually do’ things. Even though these
things we got to do’ usually ended up being rectals... We found out
the real meaning of the phrase things roll downhill.’
Fourth year, finally!
You’re on top of the world! Now was your time to decide what you wanted
to do with your life. What field will it be? Some of us knew long
ago. Some of us still don’t know. Whatever the choice, we got down to
the job of applying for residencies, then interviewing, then submitting
our match lists to finally find out what and where we would be going.
Well, now we know.
In hindsight, it seems
that these four years of school flew by. (Although I seem to recall that
those months on surgery didn’t seem to fly!) We experienced a lot. We
laughed together. We cried together. We cursed our pathophysiology
together. All of our time was planned out for us. Now it is up to us
to make our way.
Words of advice? There
are so many I would like to give you. Never lose your compassion. Never
see a patient just as a disease, a race, a sexual orientation, but as a
person. The measure of your skill rests not only in your mind, but in
your heart. I think they all boil down to one common theme: “Be the
best you can be at whatever you do, and in doing so you will make the
world greater.”
Throughout my years I
have told several motivational stories, most notably is one we
affectionately call the Starfish Story,’ which deals with individuals
making a difference in lives, no matter how small. Today I would like
to share a bit of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s sage advice on success:
“To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of
false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to
leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden path,
or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed
easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”
A few minutes ago, a
transformation took place. We stood up, walked across this stage,
received a diploma, and walked down those stairs—Forever changed.
While all moms, dads,
husbands, wives, kids, brothers, sisters, grandmas, grandpas, aunts,
uncles, and friends looked on, they saw a brand new person. You went
from a student of this university to a student of life, ready and
wanting to meet the future.
As I look out into your
faces, I wish there were words that could express the pride I feel in
seeing every one of you, knowing that you will soon be going out into
that world and succeeding like no one before.
I would like to
introduce Dr. Carl Christensen, Associate Professor, Department of
Obstetrics/Gynecology, to administer the oath to our Class.
(Pause)...Dr. Christensen. (Shake hands).