Commencement Address to Warren Wilson College
Delivered May 17, 1997

Little birdie, little birdie
Come and sing to me your song
I've a short time to be here with you
And a long time to be gone

Little birdie, little birdie
What makes you fly to high?
It's because I have a true little heart
And I do not fear to die

Little birdie, little birdie
Come and sing to me your song
I've a short time to be here with you
And a long time to be gone

Look at you. Just look at you. Hey, look at me! You know, to tell you the truth, I've never been to a college graduation ceremony before. Really. I missed my own. See, I wasn't anywhere near campus that day. In fact, I was not very far from this very place.

I attended a small private college in the Minnesota woods...the very same environment that bred Garrison Keillor and was the model for Lake Woebegone. I went to college following in my mother's footsteps. My mother, the social worker. I was going to be a double major in Social Work and Spanish. I knew that I was destined for a lifetime of work with the migrant farm laborers in the fields owned by Green Giant and Del Monte near my little hometown. But when it was time to select classes I'd already changed my mind. No, I was going for the big bucks: I was going to be an elementary school teacher. Yes, I was an education major. Until I took my first education class. Some of you know what I'm talking about. I'm sitting there in Ed. 101, "Child and Family Development." And I'm sitting next to this guy, this genius who was repeating Ed. 101. He's probably a school super. somewhere today. Anyway, he turns to me half way through the first class, leans over and says, "Man, I hope I die in an education class!" I, of course, lean back and asked, "Why?" "Because the change would be so slight!"

No, I didn't last long. But I did persevere and I did, in fact, graduate. Which I'm sure would surprise most of the people who attended college with me. Maybe you all, too. Because, I'll admit, I could have turned out like you all. I worked up to my potential, I got good grades. Then I got a banjo. A banjo that helped convince my advisor there was a classroom I was destined to be a part of that did not exist on campus. I spent the final four semesters of my university career "in the field." In the field of eastern Kentucky coal camps, West Virginia union halls, east Tennessee community centers, southern Virginia fiddle conventions, and western North Carolina gospel singings. I hold the only degree ever awarded by St. John's University in American Folk Studies. And I was not there on that auspicious May afternoon to receive the degree I actually earned. No, I was over the mountain here in Dutch Cove...near Canton, NC...playing music with Quay Smathers and his talented family at their kitchen table.

I did actually have a graduation ceremony...over fifteen years later. I was performing a concert at my alma mater and, when I came out to do the encore, the college President leapt to the stage, draped me in a cap and gown and handed me my sheepskin.

I remember bringing that diploma home a few days later and I gave it to my grandmother. My irrepressible grandmother...who had, in her 90 years survived her husband's alcoholism, her eldest son's career of incarceration, W.W.I, W.W.II, and the Great Depression in between for good measure. She had seen America go from the buggy to the Beemer, from Main Street to the mall, from the New Deal of Roosevelt to the raw deal of Reagan. She took that diploma, looked at it and said, "So Mr. Big Shot College Graduate: tell me something I don't know."

I knew she had me. See, it's the simple questions that'll sink you.

Today let me ask you a simple question:

"So Mr./Ms. Big Shot College Graduate...What did you learn?"

And let me be the first to ask you the question that most of you will be asked in the next 24 hours:

"What are you going to do now?"

And I want you to really give the answer to both questions some serious thought. Don't be too hasty in replying...especially to yourself. Because it's the simple questions that can sink you. I don't want to hear about taking some time off or going to graduate school and I certainly don't want to hear about any jobs. Good for you if you're taking time off...you deserve it. And if you are attending graduate school I wish you continued good luck. Jobs? Congratulations if you're heading into the world with a steady paycheck.

No, what I want to know is what are you going to do now.

Because in truth few of you will work in jobs connected with your field of study. I'm thinking of those in science, engineering, technology. But I'm also thinking of the English majors. "What were you thinking?!" I know, I know: "Look at those loser Philosophy majors!'" There are probably more PhD's driving cabs than there are in classrooms. At least you can discuss Kant during your ride to the airport.

It may be too late to figure out why you went to college. But it's not too late to figure out what you're taking away from it. I know what I learned was how to learn...to have an insatiable hungry for knowledge. And that, in fact, is probably your greatest accomplishment today.

So let me ask you again, "What are you going to do now?"

Because I absolutely reject the notion of our college and universities as solely tech schools, as job training facilities. When did education start colluding with business and government to become a feeder system for the market place? When did the preparation of qualified workers become the primary function of our schools? When did education stop educating?

And, to add insult to injury, with a vastly more skilled population why is the world so much more difficult?

Think about it: this modern nation was built by our grandparents, your great-grandparents...who suffered through immigration, W.W.I, the depression, W.W.II and all the while built the cities, towns, and farms that are the backbone of this country. Growing up, my family was raised on one blue-collar paycheck. Today, with two breadwinners in many families we can just barely get by!

See, I propose the outlandish notion that an organized, educated population will always outperform a skilled population. Think about it...

Our schools have to buy into educating. With all the remarkable advances we've made in the last 50 years in understanding how people learn in different ways, we still hold the linear/logical hierarchical approach as the standard.

Our government needs to buy into educating. With all the access we have to history, with all the lenses through which we can now filter it, we still stumble around repeating the foolish mistakes of the past, recycling disproved notions and wondering why we end up unsatisfied, uneducated, unemployed, and unconnected.

And the solution currently offered to our dilemma? Back to basics. And, you know what? I agree. We do need to get back to basics. But not the "Three R's" basics. Because we've seen where that leads us.

Right back to the basic problem:

Friends, the stock market topped 7300 this week and the largest employer in America is Manpower, Inc. Think about it.

What I read into this, what this all adds up to, and what I believe is right is this: these are basic skills, but they aren't enough. Information masquerading as knowledge.

We don't need more rote...we need more revolution.

Now as a writer and a poet, I find myself constantly considering the most basic meaning of words. Take "revolution"...it's a turning. It understands the course from which it deviates. It's been there. And it's often a "re-turning."

And to that end, I'd like to offer what I believe are the true basics to which we need to return. The "Three C's": creativity, courage, and community.

And in doing so we have to turn our old notions on their heads. We have to provide leadership...leadership too often lacking in turning this world around...in this revolution.

Where is the leadership? Where is the leadership? Sitting in front of me. Primed, pumped, and ready to rock. Ready to learn how to learn...how to lead. Ready to tackle the Three C's.

Every generation improves upon the last. I'm not talking Darwin. I'm talking the innate intelligence and restlessness of youth.

And improvisation is the frontier of knowledge. Most of the great discoveries of humankind came in the process of improvising...of honoring the knowledge of the past and following the uncharted leading into the future. It requires discipline and it requires faith. Because art...whether it be the art of science or the art of music...is about faith. It's about abandon, not control. And your life is about abandon, not control. Changing the way we think and act is the ultimate artistic accomplishment. It is the ultimate educational experience. Sometimes it takes the most careful strategies. But as often as not, it just sneaks up on us. Sometimes it's a matter of paying attention to your mistakes...or the creativity of others. And it usually means having a sense of humor about yourself and about the process.

One morning while reading the paper
In search of a new set of wheels
The classifieds had a most curious ad
In their listing of automobiles
I read in suspicious amusement
What seemed like a wild stroke of luck
"Corvette Stingray," it said, "low mileage, bright red,
"'83 model, 65 bucks."

I was used to my newspaper's typos,
Still I called up that number straightway
"'Bout that '83 'Vette: have you sold that thing yet?"
She said, "No, you're my first call today."
I said, "There's been some mistake in the paper,
"They've printed the price wrong somehow."
"Oh no," replied she, "they got that from me."
I said, "Don't sell that thing, I'm leaving now!"

Her address was in part of the city
Where I'd ventured just one time or two
Where the doctors, bank presidents, and lawyers are residents
And the houses are massive and new
And as I turned up her half-mile driveway
There in the cool of the day
In the sunlight it gleamed: the car of my dreams
Just $65 away

The interior was done in white leather
It had a 587 V-8
Gull-wing-span doors, Hurst four on the floor
And the 8-channel tape deck was great
There was chrome on the chrome on the fenders,
An aerodynamic design
A bar, a TV, and it was boggling to me
That for 65 bucks it was mine

Now I expected that this woman was crazy
To sell off this car at that price
But as we walked down the lane she seemed perfectly sane
She was charming and really quite nice
And she smiled in such great satisfaction
As she handed me title and keys
I said, "I've just got to know why you've let this thing go
"What's wrong with this car? Tell me please!"

Says she, "I'll be 60 come Tuesday "
And I've lived here with my husband, Earl.
"Well, after 30 years wed and without a word said
"He left me for a young teenage girl.
"But with his credit cards left here behind him,
"I knew that he couldn't get far.
"Last night from Florida he sent a wire to me:
"Said, 'I need money, dear, sell the car!'"

©1986 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).
Recorded in Water From Another Time

But it takes courage to change. Especially when most of our culture sends us mixed signals. We honor those who were courageous...in the past. In the present we tend to punish those who stray from the norm. Jesus, Galileo, Miles Davis, Martin Luther King. Outcasts in their day. Icons in our history books. Even the enshrinement of these heroes, in some way, makes their deeds unattainable to the average person. Let me offer an example.

No one here has escaped the reminder that this year marks the 50th anniversary of Jackie Robinson integrating the white major leagues. Now, through the lens of history, we understand the impact of that move. Even in my youth I couldn't imagine baseball without Hank Aaron or Roy Campanella or Willie Mays or Roberto Clemente. None of you here, sports fans or not, could imagine modern world without Ken Griffey, Jr., or Tiger Woods or Michael Jordan. But, also through the lens of history, we're able to appreciate the terrible mistreatment Robinson had to endure. And, because of the promise of non-retaliation Dodgers owner Branch Rickey made Robinson take, we can begin to appreciate what was resisted within Jackie Robinson himself. But Robinson's achievement is so lofty, so singular that, in a way, we are immobilized. We can't imagine...even once in our humble lives...facing the kind of obstacles that he conquered. So let me offer another perspective. One that might offer us some hope:

Peewee Reese. He was the shortstop that year to Robinson's first base. He was from Elkton, KY...a world away from the black community of Cairo, GA that raised Jackie Robinson. A cable splicer by trade who tried out for and made the big leagues. A most unlikely hero. But he is one of mine.

It was in May of 1947, the first road game that the Brooklyn Dodgers played in Cincinnati. Robinson was used to the receptions he received from other teams and fans. The spikings at the bag. The pitches drilled into his side. The boos and missiles he dodged on the field. But that day at Crosley Field it was the most savage yet. And Peewee Reese called upon his greatest reserves of creative courage to respond.

He was a child of the South
Just stand your ground and shut your mouth
You bear your crosses everyday
Your fingers caked in Georgia clay

Another child, Southern grown
Stand your ground, defend your own
You grow up learning wrong from right
You grow up learning black from white

Both bound by a boyhood sport
The one at first, the other short
That day they met on Brooklyn's field
Their history never seemed so real

One saw the other take the throws
He saw the spikes, he saw blows
He knew the promise that was made
He knew the price the other paid

No way to know he'd be the one
Beneath that Cincinnati sun
To hear the taunts and all the jeers
To feel the burden of the years
He called for time and then he walked from short to first
Faced the man who'd faced the worst
These two children of the South
Together stood their ground and shut the mouths

©1997 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Recorded in Storied Ground

Courage comes in many forms...but one size fits all. We hear the joke. We see the exclusion. The name comes like a slap to the face. And we are faced with a decision. Where does it come from: The courage to stand up for those who cannot defend themselves. The courage to support those who can. The courage to recognize and exercise responsibility. The courage to help shape your world. It is rooted in knowledge. In a history that means something, that instructs, that guides. No, we may never be Jackie Robinsons...but everyone of us, everyday has the opportunity to be a Peewee Reese. For, in truth, we are not called upon to do great things. We are called upon to do small things greatly.

The last of the Three C's is, in many ways, the most important and the most instructive. For it provides the focus for the previous two. See, creativity provides us with the what, courage with the how, but community with the why.

Here at Warren Wilson, you have learned important things about community. You've learned it takes work, physical work, for a community to survive. And that everyone has a role. That these roles are inter-related. And you've learned that in a community you share our victories and, sadly, in our tragic losses. Within the context of this community, you've had the opportunity to experience the evolution of true maturity: from a role of dependence, into independence, and into the fulfilling territory of inter-dependence. If you take nothing more from your years here, take that understanding with you.

Because you are entering a world that, while it is smaller, is more fragmented and isolated than ever before. It is technological and technocratic...more concerned with the WWW than world wide peace. But, my friends, what you will discover soon is that there always was a WWW. It doesn't exist on a phone line or on a video display. And it has nothing to do with Bill Gates or Big Blue or Big Brother or Big Business. It exists, in fact, in spite of them. Remember, cyberspace is only "virtual" reality.

The real reality is right beside you. And in front of you and behind you. It is a web that is exactly what a web in the natural world must be: surrounded and supported on all sides by the fragile, yet strong strands that connect each one of us to the other. Almost imperceptible they seem so thin. But, together, capable of conquering things far greater than you could imagine. And within this web, this world wide web, we discover our place. Like a sailor triangulating her position by sighting two distant stars, within our community we are able to map our location and from there determine our course.

Before I close I want to deliver a message. It's from my friend, Frank. I know him from the gym we both go to up home. Frank is retired Army, 20 years in the service. At age 40 he went back to school...the local community college and just completed his first full year at the University of Virginia. He's the oldest guy in most of his classes. I hadn't seen him since school ended and I ran into him just Wednesday morning. We exchanged pleasantries, "What you been doing?" that sort of thing. I told him about delivering this speech. "What have you been up to now that classes are over?" "John, just yesterday I spent 3 hours drinking coffee w/one of my old TA's discussing the 'Search for Truth.' It was 3 of the greatest hours of my life. Here I've been around the world for 20 years, seen just about everything there is to see. I'm almost 45 years old, in the best physical shape of my life. But, more importantly, I'm in the best intellectual shape of my life. I'm surrounded by people who are curious about everything. They're constantly asking 'Why'...more importantly asking 'Why not?' Why did I waste so many years not being around such people? I want to feel this way for the rest of my life!

"So, John, you tell those graduates that they should remember just how stimulating it's been to be in a university environment. Tell 'em to never forget and to work as hard as they can to be curious and creative and questioning their entire lives. Because once they get out of that university environment the rest of the world is gonna work full time to beat that out of them. Television'll make 'em stupid and passive. Dumb jobs'll wear 'em out. Dumber leaders will say, 'Don't worry, we'll take care of everything.' Resist! Remember! Resist!"

So, my fresh, impatient young graduates. You've accomplished an amazing thing. You've survived sixteen years...or more...of formal education. You've done as you were told...most of the time. You've pleased a sufficient number of professors to land you in these seats and soon, out on the streets. Now the fun begins. The diploma you've been handed is like a passport. Not to a job, but to the work that will consume the balance of your life: for you will change the world. Each generation of graduates before you was handed the same task and now it is your turn. And you haven't got long before those coming after you will take up the work and carry it on. You aren't the first and you won't be the last. And the time between never seems like enough.

Little birdie, little birdie
Come and sing to me your song
I've a short time to be here with you
And a long time to be gone

So if education has no other purpose, let it be this: to train revolutionaries in the business of changing our world. And you go forth armed with the potent weapons of creativity, courage, and community. Use them wisely and well. May the words of the Native American prayer be your mantra: I walk in beauty, beauty before me, beauty behind me, beauty beside me. Beauty all around me. I walk in beauty.

So on behalf of your families and loved ones gathered here with you...I want to welcome with wide open arms and hearts and minds to the finest part of your lives. Drink it deep...let it run down your chin and on to your clothes. Have more fun than you can imagine. Just because you're trying to change the world doesn't mean you can't have a good time! In the prophetic wisdom of Woody Guthrie: "Take it easy, but take it!"