Now I know your first choice today was Alice Walker—guess how I know!—known for The Color Purple.1 Instead you got me—known for
the color of my hair!2 Alice Walker’s book has a special resonance here. At Wellesley, each class is known by a special color. For four years the Class of ’90 has worn the color purple. Today you meet on Severance Green to say goodbye to all of that, to begin a new and very personal journey, to search for your own true colors. In the world that awaits you, beyond the shores of Lake Waban, no one can say what your true colors will be. But this I do know: You have a first class education from a first class school. And so you need not, probably cannot, live a “paint-by-numbers” life. Decisions are not irrevocable. Choices do come back. And as you set off from Wellesley, I hope that many of you will consider making three very special choices. The first is to believe in something larger than yourself, to get involved in some of the big ideas of our time. I chose literacy because I honestly believe that if more people could read, write, and comprehend, we would be that much closer to solving so many of the problems that plague our nation and our society. And early on I made another choice which I hope you’ll make as well. Whether you are talking about education, career, or service, you’re talking about life—and life really must have joy. It’s supposed to be fun! One of the reasons I made the most important decision of my life, to marry George Bush,3 is because he made me laugh. It’s true, sometimes we’ve laughed through our tears. But that shared laughter has been one of our strongest bonds. Find the joy in life, because as Ferris Bueller4 said on his day off, “Life moves pretty fast; and ya don’t stop and look around once in a while, ya gonna miss it!” (I am not going to tell George ya clapped more for Ferris than ya clapped for George.) The third choice that must not be missed is to cherish your human connections: your relationships with family and friends. For several years, you’ve had impressed upon you the importance to your career of dedication and hard work. And, of course, that’s true. But as important as your obligations as a doctor, a lawyer, a business leader will be, you are a human being first. And those human connections—with spouses, with children, with friends—are the most important investments you will ever make. At the end of your life, you will never regret not having passed one more test, winning one more verdict, or not closing one more deal. You will regret time not spent with a husband, a child, a friend, or a parent. We are in a transitional period right now, fascinating and exhilarating times, learning to adjust to changes and the choices we, men and women, are facing. As an example, I remember what a friend said, on hearing her husband complain to his buddies that he had to babysit. Quickly setting him straight, my friend told her husband that when it’s your own kids, it’s not called babysitting. Now, maybe we should adjust faster; maybe we should adjust slower. But whatever the era, whatever the times, one thing will never change: fathers and mothers, if you have children, they must come first. You must read to your children. And you must hug your children. And you must love your children. Your success as a family, our success as a society, depends not on what happens in the White House, but on what happens inside your house. In the passage, the author is primarily concerned with cautioning her audience against repeating past mistakes cautioning her audience against repeating past mistakes A enumerating the most pressing social issues facing women today enumerating the most pressing social issues facing women today B offering her audience advice for the future offering her audience advice for the future C garnering political support for her husband garnering political support for her husband D identifying the most important skills for adapting in uncertain times
