New Student Convocation

Remarks to the Class of 2010 by Chancellor Richard Herman
August 21, 2006

Welcome to Illinois, Class of 2010! You chose Illinois—and Illinois chose you. Thank you, and congratulations!

In the days ahead, you’ll begin to find your place here. You’ll pack your iPods with new tunes, email friends to say how tasty the food is, and take pictures of your new roommate on your cell phone.
  
And that’s before you leave your room. Wait until classes starts!

I’d like you to meet some of your classmates. Juliana Monsalve comes from Chicago. She’s contemplating a double major, maybe business and pre-med. She’d like to operate a medical clinic one day.  Juliana is the first person in her family to attend college. Juliana, thank you for picking Illinois!

Jonathan Tyler came down from Flossmoor to study engineering at Illinois. An athlete on the track team, Jonathan has helped his classmates as a tutor and a mediator. Jonathan has lofty goals—to design space vehicles for NASA.  Jonathan, you’ve come to the right campus to sink your teeth into engineering.
 
Hannah Wyss comes from the small town of Minonk, north of Bloomington, the heart of Illinois farm country.  Hannah’s major is elementary education and her goal is to teach history and social studies in junior high school.  Thank you, Hannah, for choosing a vital mission—teaching.
 
Caitlin Hackett is from Byron Center, Michigan, near Grand Rapids. She loves horses and plans to be a veterinarian.  She, too, would like to own a clinic—for large animals.  Illinois is Caitlin’s dream school. Thank you, Caitlin, for bringing your dreams to Illinois.

Rutvij Desai grew up in India and came to Illinois three years ago. Rutvij, you and I share a fascination with numbers. I’m a mathematician, while you’re studying finance and accountancy. You plan to earn an MBA and be a consultant within ten years. Thank you, Rutvij, for bringing your talent and energy to Illinois.

Are you feeling like a stranger in a strange land right now? You just left behind the familiar faces and places of that comfort zone called home.
 
You came to Champaign-Urbana, and on your trip, a funny thing happened.  You left childhood behind. You arrived an adult.

I’ll be candid with you.  I’ve been an adult a long time, and I still don’t have all the answers to life’s big questions. But I can tell you this—as an adult, you have the freedom to review, renew and redo yourself.

Those lessons from the playground, the things your parents told you, those beliefs you stashed in your backpack for the trip here, all are open to question. Question them you will, for that is your right, and your obligation, and your opportunity.

Freedom! It’s intoxicating, the choices you have. You have the freedom to explore your choices in the great American marketplace of ideas, the university. And in the global marketplace of ideas, the internet.

A science fiction writer named William Gibson coined the term “cyberspace” in his 1984 book Neuromancer.  His vision—people would plug their nervous systems directly into a world-wide network called the matrix.

With such direct neurological connections, people using the Matrix engaged in “consensual hallucination”—willingly participating in a shared experience, which could be exhilarating or terrifying.

Fast forward to today. Yours is the most interconnected class ever to enroll at Illinois. Many of you use online sites like Myspace and Facebook and YouTube. Rutvij uses Orkut, a service based in India.
 
All these interactive services invite you to go online, describe yourself and post your views. Perhaps engage in an updated version of Gibson’s consensual hallucination. But the web is very real, and so is its impact on people’s lives. The freedom you have to speak out online is precious, but it can be hazardous, too.
 
Juliana is careful with her posts because “you never know who might view your page.” Her caution is wise, as we all should assume that what we put online is never private.  Put these services to good purpose—to make friends, to learn from other people. Explore, speak up, be yourself, but please remember, your words will convey an image of you, not a hallucination.
 
We Americans enshrine our freedom to disagree with one another in our Constitution, in its Bill of Rights. We cherish the freedom to speak—to be abrasive or soothing, reasoned or irrational, stimulating or dull. Our encounters are loud at times, but that is the American way.

But do we hold listening in such high esteem? The Bill of Rights does not command us to listen to one another. Listening is a personal choice. Maybe that’s why today, too often people talk at each other, not to each other.

You’re an adult now. You can choose—shall I listen, in order that I be heard? You have the power to hear as much as you speak— if not more. Talk to people, listen to people. Cast out rancor and ridicule.
 
Embrace civility.

Sure, you can walk the walk. Talk the talk. But can you also be silent? Can you just listen?

Today, grave differences separate people, within nations and between nations. Over and over, we see how the power of ideas and beliefs can trigger conflicts with catastrophic consequences.

This spring, to gauge the depth and impact of these divisions, the Pew Research Center surveyed people in Europe, the Middle East, Asia and the United States. In a report entitled, “The Great Divide: How Westerners and Muslims View Each Other,” the Pew Center found suspicion and enmity.  Each group believes the other to be violent, and fanatical. Muslims see Westerners as selfish, immoral, greedy—and disrespectful of Islam. Westerners judge Muslims as fanatical, violent and lacking tolerance.

These wide gulfs, and others like them, must be bridged for our fractured world to advance, to move away from shouting and toward listening. You, the newly minted adults in this audience, will inherit these conditions. Begin now to overcome them.

Listen, so you may learn. And then bring about constructive change.

These clashes between groups, ignited by gender, ethnicity, skin color, religion, hide the wealth of diversity they represent. America’s strength springs from just this diversity, the cornucopia of ideas, beliefs and passion for life all newcomers have brought to our shores.

As you live here, you’ll see how many cultures have created a rich environment for us to enjoy on campus and all around Champaign-Urbana. You’ll come to appreciate the great variety of cuisine, music, art, literature, language and religion we enjoy here.

Take advantage of all that this place has to offer. One of the best libraries in the world. Sports facilities. Entertainment. Political, community and social organizations.

Be active outside the classroom. Participation will nourish your personal interests, embellish your vision for the future and help you to understand people better.
 
When you graduate, the best gift you can give yourself is self-assurance not only that you are equipped to excel in your career, but you are also prepared to live your life knowing that happiness comes from doing well for yourself so that you may do good for others.

America is a melting pot, where the world’s tastes and aromas simmer into a new dish. But America is also a mosaic. A work of art in which small pieces with distinct boundaries make up the whole.

I urge you, cross those boundaries that divide, and search for the places where human values blend and combine.

As an adult, you owe it to yourself to explore.

We all like to belong. No one wants to feel left out.  But sometimes we are included against our will. That happened to me as a child on Long Island.

When I attended public school, prayer was part of the daily classroom routine. I am Jewish, but I joined my classmates in reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Most Christians learn it at an early age. I found the words uncomfortable in my mouth.

Was that situation right? Should I, devout in my own way, have been expected to say the Lord’s Prayer? Should the school have excused me, or encouraged me to say a Jewish prayer instead?

You’re an adult. Let me ask you—Should the majority always decide? You will face that question. Perhaps your friends want to see a movie you don’t. Or your church has taken a new position on homosexuality that you oppose.

What will you do? Press your position more loudly? Declare yourself out of the group? Or, will you compromise? Will you decide to bend, to remain in the group and work to achieve your goals? 

What will you do when you encounter someone who feels as strongly as you do, but doesn’t agree with you—on abortion, stem cell research, the Iraq war, global warming, Social Security, education, affirmative action, the federal deficit. On politics and religion and all those hot button issues our society must confront.

I’ll be candid with you.  I still don’t have all the answers. I can’t tell you when to compromise, or when to hold fast to what you believe. As an adult, you have to make that choice; that’s your job now.

But you are not alone. Look at the person sitting on either side of you. Ask yourself—What could I learn from him? What could she learn from me?

Go ahead, introduce yourself to the person next to you. It’s time well spent!
 
Listen a minute!

Silence. Your voices are stilled. Not by force, or coercion. By respect.

Imagine our world suffused with respectful silence. Where free speech links arms with deep, active listening, so we may exchange ideas, hear competing voices, and honor contrary views.

Remember this moment, when you’re at the dinner table. Or in class, at the library, on the bus riding to campus. Ask yourself again, what can I learn from the person next to me? What door will open for me, if only I open my mind and listen to this person’s story?

With iPods to plug your ears and computer screens to block your eyes, you may have to pry yourself away to listen. Pull out the ear buds! Shut the laptop!

On your life’s journey, you will meet people who will teach you, nudge you, sustain you, anger you.  People who are just like you. And not like you at all. Welcome them. Respect them. Learn from them.

Speak, yes, but also listen. You owe it to the person sitting next to you. You owe it to your country, which more than ever needs its citizens to be thoughtful, courteous and well-informed. Most of all, listen, because you owe it to yourself. Through listening, you will gain understanding and knowledge and empathy and joy. You will learn to think more clearly, to craft your arguments more precisely, to know when to stand fast and when to change your mind.

Listen, so when you do speak, you will have something to say. As the adult you are now.
 
Welcome to Illinois! Have a great year! GO ILLINI!