Commencement 2024

Graduate Commencement Address by Ruth Simmons

Honorary degree recipient Ruth Simmons gives the Commencement address during the Graduate Commencement ceremony on May 19, 2024.

Transcript

Good afternoon, Brandeis University Graduate Class of 2024.

I congratulate you on the singular milestone that we celebrate today, but I know that this is only the beginning of the accomplishments that you will accumulate in the years ahead. I say that because you are part of a tradition of excellence, burnished by numerous individuals of stellar character and outstanding ability. Through your achievements, you now have the opportunity to add significantly to the legacy of this institution, and I am certain that you will do just that.

Standing before you today, I'm filled with wonder and gratitude. Wonder because of what this institution and its founding represents, as well as for where it stands in the world today. At a time when few institutions have shown over a similar span of time a steady commitment to principles of justice, Brandeis has continued to uphold its values and produce graduates, offering proof of the importance of the standards that institutions represent. Whether like Julieanna Richardson, who is creating an archive that properly acknowledges African American history makers, or like Deborah Bial, who founded a new approach to inclusive education, Brandeis graduates amply demonstrate the power of the Brandeis ethic to do justice in the service of others.

Created with the aim of ethnic and religious pluralism at a time when few countries and few institutions fully embraced the urgency of such an imperative, Brandeis continues to uphold the bedrock values needed for a strongly and successfully diverse democracy: freedom of expression, civil discourse, respect for diverse cultures, and active engagement in principles of shared governance. So as one who has felt and will never, ever forget the sting of racial hatred, I am so grateful for the attitude inspired by this institution. I want to dedicate my remarks today to individuals influenced by this institution who in turn shaped my own life and work.

We're not always fortunate to live in a time when the best of humankind is manifested. We must therefore often rely on individuals whose vision and efforts point to a more positive future, for our aspirations are invariably fueled by the extent to which we see others envisioning a different and better circumstance. That I had such individuals pointing the way for me in my youth enabled me to have hope when there was none that I could see. They enabled me to imagine a different future when everything about me said that I could not expect a better life. So alongside my studies, I relied on paragons of virtue, captains of energy, and impassioned advocates for change to give me hope. Their actions taught me much about how to be hopeful and I am grateful for such individuals who are so needed in these troubled times.

Robert Jeffrey Zimmer, who graduated summa cum laude from Brandeis in 1968 and whose life had little in common with mine, inspired me to be hopeful in my role as a leader. After serving as chairman of the department of mathematics, deputy provost, and vice president for research at Argonne National Laboratory at the University of Chicago, he joined me at Brown as my provost. And that's saying a lot, because in those days, for an eminent academic who is in a prominent position at the University of Chicago to come and work for a Black woman, that doesn't seem like much I'm sure to you today, but I think it was a really big deal. While that post was not an easy fit for him, I can't tell you how fortunate I was to have him as my companion in the effort to move that university forward. To say that Bob was tough is an understatement. He was a truth teller in the classic sense. No amount of hedging or prettifying would do when it came to confronting problems. His austerity complimented my more diplomatic style — at least that's what I would call it. He made every effort to follow the truthful path in all that he did, but while his work as provost was honorable, his Brandeis training would make of him a singular leader when he became president of the University of Chicago. To read the accomplishments of his administration is to read a playbook in balanced leadership. Whether eliminating loans from financial aid packages or expanding the local reach of the university, his commitment to Brandeis values always shone through. From the launch of centers around the world to the embrace of local initiatives for minorities, rural youth, and veterans, he had no intent to equivocate about his bedrock values. He led a process which resulted in the so-called Chicago principles that demonstrated the importance of and commitment to freedom of expression. These principles were subsequently adopted by scores of institutions. Now, some have criticized these principles and Bob for his strong support of them, but the Bob Zimmer that I knew could not be shaken by criticism, because after all, he encouraged it. I am so pleased that Brandeis acknowledged his historic importance with an honorary degree, and as for me, I learned from my work with Bob how much I could, as a leader, benefit from colleagues very different from me. There was little similarity between my background and Bob's, but in the end, that was almost of no consequence. Who he was at the core of his being mattered most, and in that sense, I was grateful to work with him.

In our nation today, we continue to struggle with what it means to share a country with individuals and groups vastly different from who we are, from what we want, from how we believe, and from how we see the world. Yet if we are to survive as a nation, no, really, if we are to thrive as a nation, we must come to value the role of difference in exploiting the rich reservoir of knowledge and perspectives available to us. We can best achieve that with a conscious and robust process of opening our minds and hearts to others. Bob Zimmer was not like me, but he was a friend and colleague from whom I learned a good deal. He would never have tried to be the president that I was and I would never have wanted to be the president that he was, but together, we afforded our universities and our students models of the many ways in which one may be different and still serve honorably.

My students persistently inquire of me the formula for advancing successfully in one's life and profession. Since my own path to leadership has been replete with cul-de-sacs that unexpectedly opened paths to growth, I find it hard to relate to the idea of a predictable course to success. Ever since reading Michel de Montaigne, I've been taken with the accuracy of his reflections on human nature. I agree with him that we are by nature subject to change and that the omnipresence of change around us makes predictability all too difficult to achieve. Hopefulness lessens the pain of uncertainty and impending doom and facilitates continued progress towards solutions. Now, I was born at a time when the country effectively organized its policy and actions around the inferiority of Blacks and other races and cultures. While it's taken more than two centuries to come to terms with this legacy, many would agree that we stand today on the precipice of reverting to hatreds and violence reminiscent of the dark age of discrimination. We can never be certain of an ever-positive trajectory of change, nor can we be certain that intelligence, fairness, and respect for others will predominate in every period. But because of your dedication to knowledge, alongside your commitment to justice, we can be more hopeful that we will have the leadership needed to continue on a path of improvement.

I could not be standing here today without the individuals who, although it appeared otherwise, believed in and fought for a different future. Confused about the segregated world to which I was consigned until I was 18 years old, I found in these individuals a way to believe in a future I could not see. You all have the power to influence others who cannot see a hopeful future. By seeing your intelligence and tenacity, your conviction that you can make a difference, your unwavering attention to what is good and just, and most of all, your commitment to care about others, they can plot a course for their lives that is not only well informed, but that also embraces the privilege of hopefulness.

Gary Tinterow, director of the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston, is another Brandeis alumnus infused, it seems to me, with the spirit of this place. Just when I thought I knew enough about leadership, Gary offered a new perspective. An art expert, it's so easy for him to circulate at the most economically-privileged levels of American society. We met across a chasm of difference. We both grew up in Houston, he in the wealthiest area and educated at Bellaire High School, I in the poorest area in segregated Fifth Ward and educated at Wheatley High School. And now, years later, we work together in friendship. Under his leadership, the museum generously serves the broadest possible public. From the selection of touring exhibitions to curating special exhibits, Gary is intent on including the arts and cultures of the public the museum serves. Because this Brandeis graduate embraces fully the commitment to social justice and inclusion and works tirelessly to bring it about in the realm of fine arts, Houston is becoming the place that as a child I hoped it might one day become.

What I'm trying to say to you is this: Individuals like Julieanna Richardson, Robert Zimmer, Gary Tinterow, and so many others, are part and parcel of what we are all called to do. By your decision to develop your knowledge at a high level, you're obligating yourself to take on the burden of hopefulness that creates a path to a different future. My time in college was marked by political violence: a war in Vietnam, a brutal struggle for civil rights, and the assassination of numerous iconic social activists and politicians. I could not see a way through those dark and dangerous times. I also could not see a time when I would be treated fairly. That what I expected to be my life, confined to a narrowness of outlook and possibility, did not unfold as I expected is due to people like you, who had the courage of their convictions and the determination to provide opportunities for others. Many today feel that the prospect of a more inclusive society is receding. The future is rife with threats: the suppression of certain freedoms, including the freedom of expression, the growing racial divide, the resurgence of political violence and so much more. The planted question reverberates through every hamlet, town, and city: What is to become of us as a nation?

I see the answer to this question in the hopeful way that Brandeis organized itself as a university. I see possibilities in the way Brandeis inspires all of you. Each of us is called on to defend the principles that undergird our freedoms. That is, in every feature of our work and our lives, we must uphold a commitment to fairness, inclusion, and justice. Anything less is to accept the worst of all possible worlds. So I ask that as you go about your lives you remember that you must lead with hopefulness. Your exceptional intelligence and achievements will cause others to look to you for inspiration and guidance. You can only do justice to both if you're engaged in the effort to combat hopelessness. What will they see, not only in the way you work, but also the way you live and care for others? I pray that what they see is meaningfully aligned with the values that are so clearly represented in the founding of this institution.

Congratulations to you and may the same hopeful values that drew you here always, always guide you in your life and work.

[Audience applauding]