Furman President David Shi

Charge to Graduates 2008

Now, members of the Class of 2008, listen well, for this is my opportunity to harangue you one last time. 

       While many of you will be relieved that this is the last Dr. Shi speech you will have to endure, it is not as easy for me to let you go. 

       On behalf of all of us who have the privilege of working at Furman, let me express our collective gratitude for the many contributions this class has made to the university, the community, and to one another. 

       We have been inspired by the amazing things you have mastered, produced, performed, and accomplished—and we are about to give you diplomas that certify your completion of a liberal arts education.

       So perhaps it is worth asking: what does it mean to be a liberally educated person? 

       As Meredith noted in her splendid remarks, a liberal education means, among other things, that you’ve been exposed to a wide range of ideas, opinions, perspectives, and personalities—in an effort to hone your capacity for understanding different people and points of view. 

       This year alone, Furman has manifested its commitment to free expression by welcoming speakers as diverse as Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, James Carville, Tommie Smith, Mike Huckabee, Anne Coulter, and President Bush. 

       For all of the contentiousness and controversy their appearances aroused, they also enriched the learning environment.

       Coping with difference has always been an essential human skill—and a primary goal of a liberal education. 

       But as you graduates leave Furman and begin significant careers of leadership and service, you must cope with not simply an increasingly diverse society. 

       It is also an increasingly fractious society, overflowing with conviction yet often lacking in civility and humility.

       Modern American society celebrates pride and power, certainty and assertiveness, competition and confrontation. 

       Polarization prevails, and shouting often displaces listening. 

       We delight in demonizing our opponents, caricaturing them so as to create scapegoats and hate-objects. 

       By contrast, intellectual humility seems pale and timid; it has an antiquated feel to it.

       On the surface, this may seem surprising, since all of us, including college presidents, have much to be humble about.  Many smart people are prone to take their opinions too seriously.

       But regardless of our diplomas and degrees, none of us has all the answers, no matter how loudly we speak or how certain we seem or how brashly we behave.

       The humility embedded in our imperfection should prompt us, at least occasionally, to reassess our dogmas, harness our arrogance, and slow our keystroke rush to judgment. 

       Liberally educated people are those who have learned to practice tolerance and self-criticism and embody civility and humility. 

       This doesn’t mean that we should not be confident or forthright in our convictions.  It does mean that we should not contemptuously dismiss the convictions of others.

       Michel de Montaigne, the 16th-century French essayist, centered many of his writings on the dangers of excessive conviction. 

       “It is right,” he wrote, “that things should touch us, providing they do not possess us…. It is enough to dip our pens in ink; there is no need to dip them in blood.” 

       The subtle distinction he made is worth noting—and remembering.

       So on this majestic occasion, when justifiable pride appropriately sets the mood for our fellowship together, let’s also reaffirm the gentler virtues of civility and tolerance, humility and empathy. 

       With malice toward none and with charity for all, I thank you, above all else, for letting us learn from you. You have been able and patient teachers.

       We send you forth with great pride and enduring affection.  May you thrive, prosper, and grow—in confidence--and in humility. . . .