Commencement Speech: Educator Sonja Saunders

I am honored to be here to speak to you, the class of 2011, your parents, your grandparents, your teachers, your administrators…

You, my seniors, are perfectly poised to consider your future—but right now, I’d like to consider your present. To look at right now.

The American Dream as a concept or theme takes a beating in a lot of the classic American stories. Whether it’s George and Lennie’s dream in Of Mice and Men to live off the fatta the lan “and have rabbits,” or Gatsby’s green light, authors often portray this dream as unrealistic or naïve or potentially devastating. 

Our media often portrays the American Dream as entirely—and often outrageously--self-centered and materialistic (*see the Kardashians).

In my mind, the American Dream is more than either of these interpretations: the American Dream at its core is about freedom and independence—the ability to control your future and to live happily and comfortably.  It is good. It is optimistic.

I am optimistic.

Perhaps, though, the American Dream is right now—it’s all of us sitting in this room participating in a collective, undeniably American, experience. I believe in the American Dream, because of everyone sitting in this room, filled with hope.

But mostly, I believe in you. Here’s why:

I have watched you deliberately choose arguments that run counter to your actual stance—in an effort to understand the opposition and to change parts of your perspective. 

I have watched you tear-up when Scout Finch stands with Boo Radley on his porch, looking at things from “inside Boo’s skin.”

I have watched the pride you feel when, after two weeks of struggling with grammar, you finally see how our language works.

I have watched you take a stand for goodness—for welcoming freshmen to MHS—rather than holding on to the short-sighted and out-dated traditions of past pep assemblies.

I have watched you care for each other—and stand up for each other—and get nervous—and be too proud—and too humble.

 I watch you take risks every day. There is nothing more optimistic—more American--than this. When a teacher asks you to provide an answer for a difficult problem, to contribute your voice to a larger discussion, you put yourself at risk. When you offer an answer, an idea—especially a good one--you risk being wrong. 

But you have to take risks—you have to be willing to fail. I believe someone in the future will discover a cure for cancer, for AIDS. Someone will write our country’s next “Great American Novel.”  Someone will develop a viable alternative-fuel option. Someone will even come up with a way for members of both political parties to sit in the same room and compromise.

These great things, however, will not happen if we all wait for someone else to do them while we surf the Web, looking for the latest celebrity gossip.

Or watch YouTube videos of exploding whales.

Or trust only the information and discoveries that have come before.

Or if we have no hope.

So now to the future you are poised to contemplate: As American Henry David Thoreau writes, “Advance confidently in the direction of your dreams”—but don’t forget his context. You will find success, but it may be “success unexpected in common hours.” It may not be the success you are imagining right now. 

It may be better. 

And when you find success, expected or unexpected, I know for sure there’s one person in Minnetonka—and many, many more who will help you celebrate your successes, discuss your failures, and watch as you start building the foundations underneath your “castles in the sky.”

Good luck class of 2011—have fun tonight. But please be careful. You are important to me. To us.