Graduation Speech - Sarah Chesler 2012
Good evening. Students, parents, faculty, families, and friends... I have a confession to make: I am a compulsive reflection-checker. What this means is that, every time I pass a reflective surface, I feel compelled to look at my reflection. I know this doesn’t sound like much of a problem--but have you ever noticed how many reflective surfaces there are? I practically get whiplash. Besides the amount of mirrors everywhere, reflections are also caused by car doors, metal tables, and store windows. And trust me--you don’t know what awkward really is until you’re looking at your reflection in the window of a store, innocently fixing your hair, and you suddenly realize there’s someone on the other side of the window, inside the store, waving at you and laughing. As I said, though, for me, looking at my reflection is a compulsion, so I force myself to take what I can from the embarrassing experience--that I should probably stop staring at myself in store windows if I don’t want to be laughed at.
My interest in my reflection has to do very little with vanity, and very much with making a good impression. To me, looking at my reflection is more than just obsessing over how I look--every time I look in a mirror, what I’m really doing is verifying that, yes, this is how I want the world to see me. I don’t want to look like a mess; I want to look put-together, in-control, and not like I desperately need a shower. My appearance is very important to me, but only because my appearance is the way that I am choosing to present myself to the world. It should be obvious, then, that these graduation gowns were NOT my idea.
However, other people besides myself concern themselves with my appearance. For example, ever since I was little, my mom has stressed the importance of things like table manners and etiquette; even now, as a young adult, whenever we have guests over I still get reminded to “put my napkin in my lap.” My mom claims she’s so focused on good manners because she wants her children to be able to eat at the White House without bringing shame to our family, but I’m pretty sure the real reason is that she doesn’t want us to embarrass her whenever we visit her mother.
In any case, my mother is only one of the people who stress out over my appearance. Besides the fact that Yeshiva enforces a dress code--which I am NOT going to criticize, don’t worry--Yeshiva’s administrators constantly remind us that, wherever we go, we are representing Yeshiva Atlanta. What this means is that, even if there’s a Maccabeats concert, and all the females in the audience are fangirling, jumping up and down, and proposing marriage to the performers, the Yeshiva Atlanta girls should be doing so with dignity. And, preferably, while wearing skirts that cover our knees while standing and sitting. Because the administration cares, and wants the Maccabeats to marry us just as much as we do.
But to put this moment, our here and now, into perspective: after we graduate tonight, we--the Class of 2012--will no longer be students of Yeshiva Atlanta. We won’t ever have to sit through another dresscode discussion again. Regrettably, we will also never again be reminded to swim only with a lifeguard present, or to always wear our bicycle helmets. It seems to me, though, that throughout our lives, we have been representatives of many things--not just our school, but also our families, our communities, and even our religion as a whole. However, we are arriving at a point in our lives where--whether we are in college, or Israel--we will be separated from the people and institutions that we have always known. As we head toward our futures, the only people we will truly represent are ourselves.
The power to choose our own appearances is a tremendous gift--perhaps the greatest graduation gift of all--but, like we learn from Spiderman, with great power comes great responsibility. Our appearances will officially become our own responsibilities, in that the way we dress or act will be up to us in a way it never has been before; we now have the opportunity to appear however we want to be seen, without the rules and pressures of our previous surroundings. Our parents won’t be there to make us focus on our academics, and none of our teachers will be there to ask us to daven. A person could sit in her room all day eating ice cream and watching reality television; or she could go out, meet new people, and form friendships that last a lifetime. She could party all night and flunk all of her classes, and forever be seen as a college dropout; or, she could hold the door for grandmothers, and parents corralling young children, and forever be seen as a mensch.
So, Yeshiva Atlanta Class of 2012: I say, we should go forth and conquer our futures--and use our new power responsibly. Appearances matter, so we should choose wisely how we want to be seen. We should try to do our families, friends, communities, and religion proud. But, most importantly, we should try to do ourselves proud; we should strive to be the kind of person who can look into a mirror each morning and smile at the person they have become.
Thank you.
My interest in my reflection has to do very little with vanity, and very much with making a good impression. To me, looking at my reflection is more than just obsessing over how I look--every time I look in a mirror, what I’m really doing is verifying that, yes, this is how I want the world to see me. I don’t want to look like a mess; I want to look put-together, in-control, and not like I desperately need a shower. My appearance is very important to me, but only because my appearance is the way that I am choosing to present myself to the world. It should be obvious, then, that these graduation gowns were NOT my idea.
However, other people besides myself concern themselves with my appearance. For example, ever since I was little, my mom has stressed the importance of things like table manners and etiquette; even now, as a young adult, whenever we have guests over I still get reminded to “put my napkin in my lap.” My mom claims she’s so focused on good manners because she wants her children to be able to eat at the White House without bringing shame to our family, but I’m pretty sure the real reason is that she doesn’t want us to embarrass her whenever we visit her mother.
In any case, my mother is only one of the people who stress out over my appearance. Besides the fact that Yeshiva enforces a dress code--which I am NOT going to criticize, don’t worry--Yeshiva’s administrators constantly remind us that, wherever we go, we are representing Yeshiva Atlanta. What this means is that, even if there’s a Maccabeats concert, and all the females in the audience are fangirling, jumping up and down, and proposing marriage to the performers, the Yeshiva Atlanta girls should be doing so with dignity. And, preferably, while wearing skirts that cover our knees while standing and sitting. Because the administration cares, and wants the Maccabeats to marry us just as much as we do.
But to put this moment, our here and now, into perspective: after we graduate tonight, we--the Class of 2012--will no longer be students of Yeshiva Atlanta. We won’t ever have to sit through another dresscode discussion again. Regrettably, we will also never again be reminded to swim only with a lifeguard present, or to always wear our bicycle helmets. It seems to me, though, that throughout our lives, we have been representatives of many things--not just our school, but also our families, our communities, and even our religion as a whole. However, we are arriving at a point in our lives where--whether we are in college, or Israel--we will be separated from the people and institutions that we have always known. As we head toward our futures, the only people we will truly represent are ourselves.
The power to choose our own appearances is a tremendous gift--perhaps the greatest graduation gift of all--but, like we learn from Spiderman, with great power comes great responsibility. Our appearances will officially become our own responsibilities, in that the way we dress or act will be up to us in a way it never has been before; we now have the opportunity to appear however we want to be seen, without the rules and pressures of our previous surroundings. Our parents won’t be there to make us focus on our academics, and none of our teachers will be there to ask us to daven. A person could sit in her room all day eating ice cream and watching reality television; or she could go out, meet new people, and form friendships that last a lifetime. She could party all night and flunk all of her classes, and forever be seen as a college dropout; or, she could hold the door for grandmothers, and parents corralling young children, and forever be seen as a mensch.
So, Yeshiva Atlanta Class of 2012: I say, we should go forth and conquer our futures--and use our new power responsibly. Appearances matter, so we should choose wisely how we want to be seen. We should try to do our families, friends, communities, and religion proud. But, most importantly, we should try to do ourselves proud; we should strive to be the kind of person who can look into a mirror each morning and smile at the person they have become.
Thank you.
