President Hiram E. Chodosh delivered the following Commencement remarks to the Class of 2024:
a prologue
…
Before our graduates walk across the threshold of past and future,
and as prologue to my charge,
I want to share a story,
from the break Priya and I took last fall.
(This Monday marks the 35th anniversary of our very first date, a characterization Priya would justifiably still deny.
I will never catch up to her uncontainable courage, loving enthusiasm, uncanny clairvoyance, and crazy ideas.
This was one of them:)
an off-the-grid, 16-day, no-turning-back, 225-mile trip
on the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon.
It’s Day 13, mile 177.
The sun has not lifted above the high canyon walls in anticipation of a midmorning eclipse.
Priya and I wake to the chilly canyon air,
cinch our packs,
sip our coffee in nervous anticipation.
I can’t handle breakfast.
Why are we so nervous? We are about to paddle down the most notorious rapid in North America: Lava.
8 people on a 14-foot rubber vessel.
Mile 179.2.
Difficulty rating, 10 out of 10.
In a span of 100 yards,
the canyon walls pinch in,
the elevation drops 37 feet.
The river spits through this faucet at 25 mph.
Lava rocks fill the river bed, creating hydraulic chaos.
Our paddle boat has a good chance of flipping.
Priya’s selected for a seat alongside the guide in the back.
Which means, if he goes over, she’s in charge!
I’m in the front left.
Which means, if I make a mistake,
fail to hear the guide’s call,
miscount the strokes,
forget that back right means front left,
we flip into the rocks.
This also means, I see everything coming at us.
I lean off the boat to get the most vertical angle for my strokes.
The only device holding me in the boat? Two rubber straps
over the area just below the joints of my toes.
We drift closer to Lava.
We hear it roar.
My brother once told me, life is like a white water rapid.
If you don’t have a plan, you end up in the rocks.
If you fail to change your plan, you end up in the rocks.
So, we tie off, climb up to scout the rapid, agree on our strategy.
We descend,
pause.
Put on our special solar shades,
stare in awe at the sky.
The moon blinds the sun
but does not eclipse our fear.
We’re back in the river now.
We aim for the tip of the rapid’s tongue.
We plan for two major drops.
We get through the first one.
The second wave is so big, the guide screams, down!
Our low center of gravity powers through.
The heavy wall of water
crashes over our backs.
I’m up again.
Our guide yells: forward 6!
I’m mad now.
I’m yelling at Lava.
Whad’ya got?!? Come on! Let’s go!
And we come to the top of another, unexpected big wave.
A third sudden drop.
The turbulent water is glistening now.
I’m hanging over.
I look way down (about 20 feet, it seems) and then look up.
A concrete wall of water stares back.
I’m not scared. I feel strong. I’m thrilled.
All 8 of us row in powerful unison.
Every wicked rapid the previous two weeks prepares us for this moment:
every unexpected crash of a big wave;
every mistaken count or missed instruction;
every bad angle on my paddle for fear of leaning out too far;
everything we learned, each block of confidence, skill, and courage
build to this threshold.
On that chilly morning, for Priya and me,
the canyon was our campus,
the guide—our FYG,
the Colorado—our first-year seminar,
the lookout—our essay and calculation,
Lava—our lesson plan,
the crest of that hydraulic chaos—our moment of higher learning.
Whad’ya got?!? Come on! Let’s go!
I see that third wave every day now. It is seared in my brain.
It captured how, where, what, why
I want to be in the world:
fight through the unpredictable waves;
paddle through the formidable forces;
navigate, surmount the big challenges;
build shared purpose;
make Lava my friend.
This is how I want to lead.
How I want CMC to lead.
How I want you each to lead.
Through Lava.
You have done it.
Every splash—a new skill; each climb—higher confidence;
every drop—deeper courage;
each threshold—stronger commitment.
You know this.
Today the river calls your name.
You ascend the crest.
The canyon echoes the crowd’s roar.
You take my hand in yours,
grasp the oar of your success,
drop down into the warm river of your friends,
throw your threads to the wind,
experience the thrill.
You know you are ready, to:
navigate the expected chaos,
face the big wall,
choose your strategy,
adapt and power through it.
You make strangers your friends.
You bring opponents together.
You build unum out of our pluribus.
You conquer this stage.
Soak in that moment today.
Grateful, as we all are, for everyone who helped you get here.
Listen to our exemplars.
They lead our way through Lava.
Out of the polarizing centrifuge, spinning in cycles of violence,
our Imam Hadi and Rabbi Danny, arm in arm, in prayer, find it.
Through the big financial challenges, Bill and Rossi steer through it.
Cheryl treks it.
Zach sings it.
Natalie runs it.
Frank swims it.
Caroline tackles it.
D’Angelo endears it.
Zane and Kara mediate it.
Michael, John, Cooper, and Kamila master it.
Timmy energizes, unites it.
You each, you all do it.
--
To the Class of ’24, please stand for your charge.
Lead through Lava!
Follow your Priya.
Carve your canyon.
Blaze your trail.
Run your river.
Hear the roar.
Plan, but not too much.
Listen to your squad.
Build shared purpose.
Eclipse your fear.
Lean out, not just in.
Row in sync.
Know when to duck.
Always get back up.
Face the waves.
Power through chaos.
Prepare the next climb.
Feel your courage grow.
Know you know this from:
the setbacks and heartbreaks;
the conflicts and regressions;
the redlines and rejections.
You persisted through isolation.
You reversed the grand dispersion.
You rebuilt our community.
You thrived in our arena.
Listen to our Imam and Rabbi:
Make salam your shalom.
Make shalom your salam.
Learn from Rossi and Bill:
even when penny foolish
be dollar smart.
Heed the call of Bertha’s mom: work
hard, be kind, make your bed, and
get lots of sleep in it.
Follow Cheryl Strayed:
forge your own trek,
hear your inner voice,
conquer your wild.
Take us now with you.
Make the city your Quad.
Cook the kitchen into your Hub.
Set the table as your Ath.
Lead, we will follow you.
Your friends are our friends.
Your challenges are my challenges.
You are our success.
Whad’ya got?!? You got this.
Come on! You rock.
Let’s go! You’re through.
Canyon, river, wave, CMC, we—all
now run through you.
Already, we miss you.
No! We are always with you.
We are forever here. Know
where you want to go, we
are already there.
Class of 2024,
Lead through Lava.
That is your calling.
That is your charge.
Many congratulations,
Cheers to you all.