Erika K. Williams
Get a Machete
Good morning and thank you. I am humbled and honored to speak to you all today.
So [pause] ... I love 1980’s science fiction films. Like the genre to which “Back to the Future” belongs. One of my favorites is titled “The Adventures of Buckaroo Bonzai across the Eighth Dimension.” For those of you not intimately familiar with this movie, it’s a not-so-quality film about the neurosurgeon/football star/rock band front-man/samurai/astrophysicist Buckaroo who befriends an alien disguised as a Jamaican bicyclist (who is sporting a silver reptile-skin textured dinner jacket and black spandex pants no less). They save the world from annihilation by extraterrestrial-induced nuclear war.
I often wonder ... what exactly is it about these films that I like? Why? I’m pretty sure it’s not the special effects.
[pause] I like them because the characters in these films do what they want to do. Silver dinner jacket? Neurosurgeon samurai? These characters are entirely themselves, and this is so far from the norm ... I just can’t help but get inspired when I come across a group so simply and completely engaged in their world on their own terms. These movies are not cool, the characters in them are not cool, but in their own way they’re just insanely and unconsciously self-assured. And that’s enough.
So I guess it’s not so surprising that I’m drawn to these films because I, like many, am not so self-assured. I have spent much of my life seeking acknowledgement. Just wanting simple proof that I have some purpose, can make some positive difference to somebody. That I am doing the right thing.
And graduation is a time when these concerns come to the fore for all of us. Everyone wants to know what we are going to do next. And that is extremely intimidating. Because now more than ever we are making public what we value. We are breaking out our own black spandex and silver reptile jackets.
But I don’t think many of us want to discard these concerns. The message I take from 1980’s scifi isn’t to care less about what everyone thinks. Because yes, to say it’s OK to care less is perhaps a step toward that independence, but it’s also a step toward isolation. And we don’t want to be isolated. Because who we are is defined by how we impact others. And I’m not only talking about making grand differences. I’m also talking about the effects of day to day events like chatting with friends or sending one of those Valentine’s day carnations. We really thrive upon the bonds we share. That’s valuable.
Wherever we go, whether it’s work, graduate school, Wall Street, travel, home, we are making choices about how we live that life. And those choices matter to us and to the people we are with. But we really can’t just take the easy way out and be exactly what others have already been, because then we contribute nothing of our own, nothing new. It’s stagnation.
This is hard. But let me just tell you about a statement that was really reassuring to me. It’s buried in pages and pages of contract, regulation and equipment specifications for the position I’m taking next year. I am going to study capuchin monkeys in dense forest in Costa Rica. The sentences read as follows: “The project also has machetes to give out. These you keep over the year as well.” Lets just pause and think about what this really means. To me, it meant this: If you want to clear your own path, you can find people who will, quite literally, give you a large jungle knife to do so. It suggests we can have confidence that others will be supportive of our wandering in to new territory. Supportive and excited enough to help equip us to go. That’s what a machete is: this proof of support, this sharing of excitement.
And it made me realize that we have already spent much of our lives in the presence of people who have faced this and who understand. Because what’s really happening when we’re being taught philosophy using SpongeBob Squarepants? Or matrix algebra with ferns? Biology terms with disco? Or when a prof burns CDs of their favorite modern African music for the entire class? Or when your brother spends every waking moment telling you about his new techniques for making fly fishing lures. When your parents share their careers, hobbies, hopes, I don’t know ... secret family recipe tips ... anything. These are examples of when people are providing machetes, showing you not only what they love, but also that they really love sharing it with you. And look! Each of us can be a rock band front man/neurosurgeon/samurai.
So, to all of you, please please please never, not for a moment, stop searching for machetes, whatever form they might take. And remember, the fun part in this life is bringing someone with you when you are going someplace no one has been before.
Thank you and congratulations friends, family. Well done, Class of 2008.
June 1, 2008