Mary Arnold Schwartz, coordinator at IPFW’s Writing Center, gave the keynote speech to inductees and their families at the 2010 Omicron-Psi Induction Ceremony. A transcript of her speech is below:
You Are My Heroes
Good evening, everyone. I want to thank Julie Creek, moderator for the IPFW chapter of Omicron-Psi Honor Society for inviting me to speak with you tonight.
I am so proud of each one of you for putting forth the effort required to be here in this room.
I want to recognize two sets of people present: the students being honored in this induction ceremony and the family and friends who support the students being inducted.
You are all my heroes.
When I enrolled in my first credits in college, the theme of those two courses was “The Hero in Irish Literature and History.” In those courses and in that time, heroism had a decidedly masculine, militaristic flair, but tonight I want to redefine heroism so that both the Omicron-Psi inductees and their families and friends understand why I consider them my heroes.
As we all recognize, to be a hero requires, first of all, courage. Tonight I will argue that becoming a hero—at least in a world where education is important—requires two additional characteristics:
- a deep appreciation for diversity and
- gratitude.
Courage
I love how words come to be and mean, and courage has a particularly important history. According to Webster’s Third International Dictionary, courage was borrowed from the French and brought into Middle English some time in the early 14th century AD. The first part of the word “C-o-u-r” came from the Old French word “c-u-e-r,” for heart; and the second part, “a-g-e,” can stand for “the outcome of” or “the process of.” So, rather than meaning “fearless in the face of danger or difficulty,” courage meant “the outcome or process of the heart.”
What does that mean for courage to be the outcome or process of the heart?
I don’t know about you, but a degree was something I’d always wanted: a desire, but something so big—at least 40 courses that I would spend over 8 years completing—that I didn’t even contemplate finishing when I enrolled for the first 10 or more classes. Besides, I kept waiting for someone to tap my shoulder and whisper, Hey, the gig is up. We know you can’t cut it; you may as well stay home. Does that sound familiar? Waiting for someone to let you know the gig is up?
For many of you, just getting to IPFW to register for your first classes was an act of courage. Moreover, some of you, like writing consultant Matthew Willits, drive for at least an hour just to be in class. It takes steadfastness to slog your way through miles of construction traffic, but it takes courage to get back in any vehicle once your gas tank falls off while driving to Fort Wayne on I-69 –sending up a broad tale of bright red sparks.
It takes courage to throw words on the page because you don’t know what you want to say until you write it—and then more courage to bring that very rough draft to the Writing Center where some young person—maybe even half your age—will help you to make sense of it all.
It takes courage to continue going to class when you are paralyzed with fear because you have no idea how you will get all the papers written and tests studied for and the baby is sick and your spouse (or you) is facing a layoff or downsizing.
I argue that Courage is NOT about being fearless. No, you HEROES in the academic world display courage when you act despite fear, and when you use fear as the energy to push yourself toward your heart’s desire even when you’re not sure you can achieve that heart’s desire.
It also takes courage for families and friends to support your student through this struggle to earn one or two college degrees. My husband was a constant support for me, but I know that, at times, he silently worried about how our relationship would change. I know many of you, too, support your students while wondering, at one time or another, where you will fit in their lives after graduation. Thank you for your courage in the face of uncertainty.
An Appreciation for Diversity
I’ve noticed SMART, courageous people, like you, are not only persistent, but they also deeply appreciate diversity. These smart students look around the room for class mates on whom they can rely for help—and they don’t care what age or ethnicity or gender those conscientious students are. They look for those who take killer notes, and show up on time, and make helpful comments in class—and they exchange phone numbers. Smart adult students have very full lives and expect that something wacky will happen EVERY semester, and they plan to need that classmate’s notes. AND these same smart, courageous students ALSO take fantastic notes they plan to share, as well.
These smart students (Yes, I’m talking about you!) also wake up a group project. While returning adults may assume leadership, they don’t have time to shoulder group work by themselves. These smart leaders expect everyone to contribute from the depth of their diverse experiences. They see that diversity in thought and experience energizes the group, and they capitalize on that diversity to produce excellent results.
What took me longer to appreciate was the diversity I brought to the classroom. By the time I resumed college in my mid-thirties, I’d had some fairly rich, though not always successful, life experiences. Nevertheless, because I typically had a much different take on the material we were studying than my more traditional aged class mates, I tended to see myself as a bit odd and wondered whether I really “fit in.” The value of the diversity I brought to class finally sunk in when one of my favorite teachers said I was struggling with the same big ideas that have plagued thinking people throughout time—in other words, I wasn’t odd (so much) as I was thinking deeply!
Because you have not taken the most direct route to a college education, you, too, may have shared this wonderful aha! moment when you realized the difference you brought to the class was actually a gift. Heroes do not merely celebrate diversity; they interrogate difference; they challenge long cherished beliefs; and they embrace the growth made possible by the diversity of ideas and people found at this university.
All this growth and excitement, sometimes, can be a bit challenging to our families and friends who are not directly sharing with us that heady intellectual moment. Try as we might, we have trouble clearly communicating our new insights with our families and friends. They, in turn, sometimes challenge us to think again, to re-examine the arguments that seemed so complete in class. When our families and friends challenge us, they are showing that they do listen—and they do respect our learning process even if they don’t share our conclusions entirely. As a result, our supporting heroes help us to stay real in between our flights of the mind.
Gratitude
Finally, you are my smart, courageous heroes because you have responded to all these challenges and opportunities with gratitude. In my life, gratitude is always a verb, and is embodied by acts of service paying forward any blessing received. For example, in my first anthropology class, Dr. Alan Sandstrom presented tips on how to study—with success—for his class. I can never pay him back for the important lessons he taught us, but I can pay the gift forward by sharing what I learned with other students.
To qualify for induction into Omicron-Psi, students have done more than earn excellent grades; they have had to serve others, too. This service has taken several forms:
Individuals recognize a need, and either by themselves or with a group, then create a solution for filling that need. For example, Jason Bender holds a “Stocking Stuffer” party each Christmas season in which party-goers make homemade stockings that they fill for soldiers serving overseas or for these soldiers’ families.
Individuals join organizations that have a service orientation. For example, IPFW students join Circle K, Voices Not Victims, Common Difference, and a host of other volunteer organizations. I invite those of you not graduating this May to think about serving on the Omicron-Psi board or as a student representative on one of the many committees serving IPFW. They need you.
Service can also be paid: Writing Consultants and Course Consultants/Tutors, Math Test Center Teaching Assistants, Supplemental Instruction Peer Leaders, FYE Learning Community Peer Leaders, and MAC Peer Advisors all help to demystify college-level learning and writing for fellow students. Almost to a person, student workers in the Academic Success Centers report receiving more than they give—and you can bet they give a lot! Why don’t you consider working for us?
I want to bring your attention to another level of service: choosing a career specifically so you can serve others. How many of you chose a service profession such as teaching or counseling, research or engineering, or the fine, performing, or commercial arts? Whenever we have the privilege of doing work that will enable others to lead enriched or improved lives, we are engaged in the service professions—and you are living out gratitude for the wealth you acquired during your years at IPFW.
Let us recognize, too, the service of our families that makes our educations possible. Spouses and children take on extra responsibilities; school aged children study alongside daddy or mommy at the kitchen table. Parents call their adult-students and ask about how our courses are going, or they give books or clip articles they think we might find interesting. Friends listen to our papers or poems or stories about the totally awesome professor or internship. Thank you for your continued sacrifice and support.
For some of you inductees, graduation with your bachelor’s degree is only one step toward the service profession you desire, and you will soon, like Sarah Manley, begin a master’s degree. I don’t need to wish any of you luck—because you have made your own luck by working hard and refusing to give up. Semester after semester, you have earned terrific grades. So now I want to tap you on the shoulder, and say out loud for everyone to hear:
The gig IS up. You are and have been the perfect college student:
- You have the courage needed to earn a degree;
- You have the deep appreciation for diversity needed to do well; AND
- You have the gratitude needed to pay your gifts forward in service.
You have belonged here at IPFW—and you will belong in whatever next step you hope to take.
Conclusion
Omicron-Psi inductees and your families: You are my heroes. My heart fills with pride and gladness for all you have accomplished and all that you are. Well done.