应届毕业典礼简单实用三分钟英语演讲稿范文（通用24篇）
Around the world, we’ve still got challenges to solve that threaten everybody in the 21st century – old scourges like disease and conflict, but also new challenges, from terrorism and climate change.
So, make no mistake, Class of 20xx – you’ve got plenty of work to do. But as complicated and sometimes intractable as these challenges may seem, the truth is that your generation is better positioned than any before you to meet those challenges, to flip the script.
Now, how you do that, how you meet these challenges, how you bring about change will ultimately be up to you. My generation, like all generations, is too confined by our own experience, too invested in our own biases, too stuck in our ways to provide much of the new thinking that will be required. But us old-heads have learned a few things that might be useful in your journey. So with the rest of my time, I’d like to offer some suggestions for how young leaders like you can fulfill your destiny and shape our collective future – bend it in the direction of justice and equality and freedom.
Thank you. Thank you.
Good morning, Class of 20xx!
Thank you, President Tessier-Lavigne, for that very generous introduction. I’ll do my best to earn it.
Before I begin, I want to recognize everyone whose hard work made this celebration possible, including the groundskeepers, ushers, volunteers and crew. Thank you.
I’m deeply honored and frankly a little astonished to be invited to join you for this most meaningful of occasions.
Graduates, this is your day. But you didn’t get here alone.
Family and friends, teachers, mentors, loved ones, and, of course, your parents, all worked together to make you possible and they share your joy today. Here on Father’s Day, let’s give the dads in particular a round of applause.
Stanford is near to my heart, not least because I live just a mile and a half from here.
Of course, if my accent hasn’t given it away, for the first part of my life, I had to admire this place from a distance.
I went to school on the other side of the country, at Auburn University, in the heart of landlocked Eastern Alabama.
But there’s even more to strength than muscle, smarts and character. For the last few years, the air has been filled with studies, surveys, and books reporting a growing “fragility” among American young people, a decreasing capability to handle even modest stress or setbacks without seeking some sort of adult assistance. The number of college students requesting counseling or therapy has doubled in just four or five years.
So today, I’m happy to announce that, with our foundation, I’m committing $500 million to the launch of a new national climate initiative, and I hope that you will all become part of it. We are calling it Beyond Carbon. The last one was Beyond Coal, this is Beyond Carbon because we have greater goals.
Our goal is to move the U.S. towards a 100% cleaner energy economy as expeditiously as possible, and begin that process right now. We intend to succeed not by sacrificing things we need, but by investing in things we want: the more good jobs, cleaner air and water, cheaper power, more transportation options, and less congested roads that we can get.
You have learned so much over the last four years. There’s very little I can say to you that you don’t already know. Some might even say you know it all. But seriously, if I could just add one little bit of wisdom, it’s this: that you will be powerful.
You, Dartmouth Class of 20xx, are individuals with enormous knowledge, skill, and capacity. Some of you will become entrepreneurs and CEOs. Some will be influential academics, journalists; others, great artists, jurists, athletes, and politicians. You will be great teachers, engineers, researchers, nurses, doctors, financiers, parents, social innovators.
It may take you one year or 30, but each one of you sitting out there today is going to be powerful. You are going to be in a position to set examples and to make decisions.
Yes, decisions that will affect not only your life, but also the lives of those around you: your families, your friends, your colleague – even me, if I live long enough.
And your decisions will also affect people you’ll never meet – future generations. So, that’s power. But power isn’t something we are necessarily born with knowing how to use well. There’s no instruction manual; there’s no guide to exercising power with care and restraint.
We know that closing every last U.S. coal-fired power plant over the next two years is achievable because we’re already more than halfway there. Through a partnership between Bloomberg Philanthropies and the Sierra Club, we’ve shut down 289 coal-fired power plants since 20xx, and…and that includes 51 that we have retired since the 20xx presidential election despite all the bluster from the White House. As a matter of fact, since Trump got elected, the rate of closure has gone up.
Second, we will work to stop the construction of new gas plants. By the time they are built, they will be out of date – because renewable energy will be cheaper. Cities like Los Angeles are already stopping new gas plant construction in favor of renewable energy. And states like New Mexico, and Washington, and Hawaii, and California are working to convert their electric system to 100 percent clean energy.
We don’t want to replace one fossil fuel with another. We want to build a clean energy economy – and we will push more states to do that.
Now, to the Class of 20xx: I want to express just how proud we are of all that you have accomplished during your time at Stanford, and of all the hard work that brought you to this stadium this morning.
Today, we will award 1,792 bachelor’s degrees, 2,389 master’s degrees, and 1,038 doctoral degrees.
For those students who are receiving bachelor’s degrees:
· 313 will graduate with departmental honors and 301 with university distinction.
· 106 have satisfied the requirements of more than one major and 33 are graduating with dual bachelor’s degrees.
· 451 of our seniors completed minors and 201 will graduate with both a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree.
As Stanford is proud to enroll students from all around the globe, many of our international students will receive their degrees today as well:
162 members of our undergraduate class hail from 55 countries and 79 countries are represented by the 1,077 international students who will receive their master’s and doctoral degrees.
Now, all the numbers I have cited illustrate the tremendous accomplishments of Stanford’s graduates and their potential to have a positive impact on our world.
Graduates, during your time at Stanford, our faculty and staff have dedicated themselves to nurturing that potential in each of you. And I want to take this moment to thank them for their ongoing support and encouragement.
Two weeks ago, I was in Spain. I made a pilgrimage to visit the home of one my great heroes, the Catalan cellist Pablo Casals. He was 97 years old when I was a freshman in college. He had lived through World War I, the Spanish Civil War, World War II.
I was so lucky to have played for him when I was 7 years old. He said I was talented. His advice to me then: Make sure you have time to play baseball.
And I’ll let you imagine how that might have worked out.
But in reality, that wise counsel, “to make time for baseball,” was a profound reflection of the philosophy that motivated his life. Casals always thought of himself as a human being first, as a musician second, and only then a cellist. It’s a philosophy that I’ve held close to my heart for most of my own life.
Now, I had always known Casals as a great advocate for human dignity. But standing in his home two weeks ago, I understood what it meant for him to live that philosophy, what it meant for him to be a human being first. I began to understand just a few of the thousands of actions he took every day, every month. Each was in the service of his fellow human beings.
I saw letters of protest he wrote to newspapers from London to Tokyo. I saw meticulous, handwritten accounts of his enormous financial contributions to countless refugees fleeing the carnage of the Spanish Civil War – evidence of a powerful, humanistic life.
Your accomplishments are also due, in part, to the dedication, to the loving encouragement, and to the extraordinary support of the family members and friends who have championed each one of you in the years you’ve worked toward your Stanford degree.
Now, many of those family members and friends are here today, in the stands of our stadium. Others are watching this ceremony from around the world, via livestream.
They include your mothers and your fathers, Happy Father’s Day, by the way; your spouses and children; your siblings; your grandparents, aunts, and uncles; your mentors; and your peers – people who helped you along the way to Stanford and through your years as Stanford students.
And so I’d ask all the members of the Class of 20xx, seniors and graduate students, to join now in one of Stanford’s treasured Commencement traditions.
Please rise. Think of all those family members and friends who supported you on this special journey. Turn to your family members and friends, if they are in the stands or if they are watching from around the world.
And please join me in saying these words to them: “Thank you. Thank you!”
You may be seated. Yeah.
To the family members and friends of our Stanford graduates, I say “thank you,” as well, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for entrusting your loved ones to our university in their time here, and thank you for all that you have done to ensure their success.
It’s now my pleasure to turn the program over to Stanford’s Provost Persis Drell, who will present the winners of the University’s awards. Well, thank you, Provost Drell.
It’s one of my great honors, as Stanford’s president, to address our graduating class on Commencement day.
Class of 20xx, your years at Stanford have been a time of intellectual exploration, remarkable accomplishment, and extraordinary hard work and dedication.
Today, we honor everything that you have achieved during your time at Stanford, and we celebrate as you embark on the next stage of your journey.
Today’s ceremony marks the conclusion of your time as Stanford students. But I have great hope that, here at Stanford, you have acquired the tools and skills to remain learners for life. And even as you leave our campus behind, you will forever remain a cherished part of our Stanford family.
This is my third Commencement as Stanford’s president.
Since I returned to Stanford three years ago, I have been reflecting on the fact that Jane and Leland Stanford founded this university with a specific purpose – namely, to promote the public welfare by exercising an influence on behalf of humanity.
Think about what’s at stake. Everything you write, everything you say, every topic of curiosity, every stray thought, every impulsive purchase, every moment of frustration or weakness, every gripe or complaint, every secret shared in confidence.
In a world without digital privacy, even if you have done nothing wrong other than think differently, you begin to censor yourself. Not entirely at first. Just a little, bit by bit. To risk less, to hope less, to imagine less, to dare less, to create less, to try less, to talk less, to think less. The chilling effect of digital surveillance is profound, and it touches everything.
What a small, unimaginative world we would end up with. Not entirely at first. Just a little, bit by bit. Ironically, it’s the kind of environment that would have stopped Silicon Valley before it had even gotten started.
We deserve better. You deserve better.
If we believe that freedom means an environment where great ideas can take root, where they can grow and be nurtured without fear of irrational restrictions or burdens, then it’s our duty to change course, because your generation ought to have the same freedom to shape the future as the generation that came before.
Graduates, at the very least, learn from these mistakes. If you want to take credit, first, learn to take responsibility.
The truth is, success is a process—you can ask anybody who’s been successful. I just passed on the lane up here here, successful restauranteur Danny Meyer, who’s sitting here with his family—Charles is graduating today. Ask Danny or anybody who’s successful, you go to any one of his restaurants—Shake Shack, love it!—Union Square Cafe, Gramercy Tavern—you will be impressed by not only the food, but the radical hospital and service. Service is not just about when you’re getting served.
When I started my talk show, I was just so happy to be on television. I was so happy to interview members of the Ku Klux Klan. I thought I was interviewing them to show their vitriol to the world, and then I saw them using hand signals in the audience—and realized they were using me, and using my platform. Then we did a show where someone was embarrassed, and I was responsible for the embarrassment. We had somehow talked a man who was cheating on his wife to come on the show with the woman he was cheating with and, on live television, he told his wife that his girlfriend was pregnant. That happened on mywatch.
Shortly after I said: I’m not gonna do that again. How can I use this show to not just be a show, but allow it to be a service to the viewer? That question of "How do we serve the viewer?" transformed the show. And because we asked that question every single day from 1989 forward—with the intention of only doing what was in service to the people who were watching—that is why now, no matter where I go in the world, people say "I watched your show, it changed my life." People watched and were raised by that show. I did a good job of raising a lot of people, I must say. That happened because of an intention to be of service.
Because we all stem from Africa. So in Africa, there's been more time to create genetic diversity." In other words, race has no basis in biological or scientific fact. On the one hand, result. Right? On the other hand, my definition of self just lost a huge chunk of its credibility. But what was credible, what is biological and scientific fact, is that we all stem from Africa -- in fact, from a woman called Mitochondrial Eve who lived 160,000 years ago. And race is an illegitimate concept which our selves have created based on fear and ignorance.Strangely, these revelations didn't cure my low self-esteem, that feeling of otherness. My desire to disappear was still very powerful. I had a degree from Cambridge; I had a thriving career, but my self was a car crashand I wound up with bulimia and on a therapist's couch. And of course I did. I still believed my self was all I was. I still valued self-worth above all other worth, and what was there to suggest otherwise?
The obscenity of apartheid came to an end. A young generation in Belfast and London have grown up without ever having to think about IRA bombs. In just the past 16 years, we’ve come from a world without marriage equality to one where it’s a reality in nearly two dozen countries. Around the world, more people live in democracies. We’ve lifted more than 1 billion people from extreme poverty. We’ve cut the child mortality rate worldwide by more than half.
America is better. The world is better. And stay with me now – race relations are better since I graduated. That’s the truth. No, my election did not create a post-racial society. I don’t know who was propagating that notion. That was not mine. But the election itself – and the subsequent one – because the first one, folks might have made a mistake. (Laughter.) The second one, they knew what they were getting. The election itself was just one indicator of how attitudes had changed.
I am honoured to be at the Royal Hospital today as your reviewing officer once again, on this the 75th Anniversary of D-Day.
Not only is today a prominent historical occasion, it is also a special day in the Royal Hospital calendar – bringing together families, old friends and the chance to make new ones.
Both your founder King Charles II, and Sir Christopher Wren himself would be delighted to know that the institution which opened its doors to the first Pensioners over 325 years ago, continues to fulfil its original purpose of giving exceptional care to soldiers in retirement.
They’d also be amused to hear about the late-night cricket in the hallways! Much less the serenading by Colin, who I am told is Royal Variety standard, but let’s assume they haven’t seen your synchronised buggy drill quite yet!
Now I stand here before you to not only acknowledge the incredible contribution you have made to this nation, but to acknowledge that you, my friends, are also seriously good fun to be around!
having a view on these great men in the history of hunmanbeing,they all made full use of their youth time ,to do things that are useful to society,to the whole mankind,and as a cosquence ,they are remembered by later generations,admired by everyone.so do something in the time of young,although you may not get achievements as these greatmen did ,though not for the whole word,just for youeself,for those around!the young is just like blooming flowers,they are so beautiful when blooming,they make people feel happy,but with time passing by,after they withers ,moet people think they are ugly.and so it is the same with young,we are enthusiastic when we are young,then we may lose our passion when getting older and older.
In just the four years that you’ve been here at the Farm, things feel like they have taken a sharp turn.
Crisis has tempered optimism. Consequences have challenged idealism. And reality has shaken blind faith.
And yet we are all still drawn here.
For good reason.
Big dreams live here, as do the genius and passion to make them real. In an age of cynicism, this place still believes that the human capacity to solve problems is boundless.
But so, it seems, is our potential to create them.
That’s what I’m interested in talking about today. Because if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that technology doesn’t change who we are, it magnifies who we are, the good and the bad.
Our problems – in technology, in politics, wherever – are human problems. From the Garden of Eden to today, it’s our humanity that got us into this mess, and it’s our humanity that’s going to have to get us out.
First things first, here’s a plain fact.
Silicon Valley is responsible for some of the most revolutionary inventions in modern history.
From the first oscillator built in the Hewlett-Packard garage to the iPhones that I know you’re holding in your hands.
Social media, shareable video, snaps and stories that connect half the people on Earth. They all trace their roots to Stanford’s backyard.
But lately, it seems, this industry is becoming better known for a less noble innovation: the belief that you can claim credit without accepting responsibility.
While data, evidence, logic, and reason provide one way to make sense of the world, the arts provide another: a distinct, yet complimentary mode of understanding oneself and experiencing the world, beyond facts and figures. Engagement with the arts has been shown to elevate resilience in the face of change, empathy and understanding of others, and capacity to solve problems.
And in today’s volatile world, having a well-developed creative capacity, in addition to strong analytic skills, is paramount. In fact, a 20xx World Economic Forum report placed creativity as one of the three most important work-related skills anticipated for 20xx.
So, my message to you today is simple: Never relinquish your paintbrush, your pen, your musical instrument, or any other creative tool at your disposal, because there is always another stroke, another stanza, another measure, another chapter in the work that will forever be known as you.
And when you see an opportunity to engage with the arts, or to support the arts, embrace it with all you’ve got.
If I could teach a class in how to live your best life, it would include some gems I've gotten from world leaders. But also some I have not. Yes, it does pay to floss. Yes, you need to look people in the eye when you speak to them. You need to keep your commitments, you need to make your bed every day because when you do, it makes your whole house look better. And you need to leave your cell phone away at the dinner table.
I put so many of those in a book that I did for graduates like you. I wrote The Path Made Clear with gems of wisdom from thought leaders. Since I know you just wanna get that diploma, I’m gonna save all my wisdom for my book…You get a book and you get a book and you get a book! Everybody gets a book! Congratulations class of 20xx!As the chairman said, I majored in electrical engineering. So I know what you’re all thinking – it’s a shame he was never able to put his degree to good use. I thought that was funnier than you did, thank you.
Let me start with the most important message that I can deliver today – congratulations to the distinguished graduates of the great Class of 20xx. You made it. All those long hours studying, and in the lab, the quizzes, the papers, and the swim tests, it was all for today – well, that and the brass rat.
So that’s why today – when your bags are packed, your friends are dispersing, and your place in this class is carved in stone – I want you to take a moment. Forget about the power you might have had here and think instead about the power you will have in the future – in 10, 20, 30 years – and promise yourself something. Promise yourself that when you find your power, you will use it thoughtfully, with restraint, and with good intention.
You will be powerful. And when you are, do not abuse your power. Ever.
Now, I’m sure that in the course of your lifetime, including the last four years, you have witnessed power and its abuse. When you were young, you probably saw it on the playground. You’ve seen it on this campus. We certainly have all seen it in our nation, and around the world.
In my own lifetime, I’ve seen too many people make decisions that put themselves before their community, before society, before the health of our planet. I’ve seen too many people who choose to build walls rather than bridges.
Sometimes, it’s because of the arrogance of their certitude, or because of simple, blissful unawareness. Sometimes, it’s because of their ego, or self-deception, and sometimes, it’s a deliberate act of revenge. Other times, it’s the primal, addictive pursuit of conquest – conquest of all kinds.
We see it every day now, with every data breach, every privacy violation, every blind eye turned to hate speech. Fake news poisoning our national conversation. The false miracles in exchange for a single drop of your blood. Too many seem to think that good intentions excuse away harmful outcomes.
But whether you like it or not, what you build and what you create define who you are.
It feels a bit crazy that anyone should have to say this. But if you’ve built a chaos factory, you can’t dodge responsibility for the chaos. Taking responsibility means having the courage to think things through.
And there are few areas where this is more important than privacy.
If we accept as normal and unavoidable that everything in our lives can be aggregated, sold, or even leaked in the event of a hack, then we lose so much more than data.
We lose the freedom to be human.
You may not know this, but I was on the sailing team all four years.
It wasn’t easy. Back then, the closest marina was a three-hour drive away. For practice, most of the time we had to wait for a heavy rainstorm to flood the football field. And tying knots is hard! Who knew?
Yet somehow, against all odds, we managed to beat Stanford every time. We must have gotten lucky with the wind.
Kidding aside, I know the real reason I’m here, and I don’t take it lightly.
Stanford and Silicon Valley’s roots are woven together. We’re part of the same ecosystem. It was true when Steve stood on this stage 14 years ago, it’s true today, and, presumably, it’ll be true for a while longer still.
The past few decades have lifted us together. But today, we gather at a moment that demands some reflection.
Fueled by caffeine and code, optimism and idealism, conviction and creativity, generations of Stanford graduates (and dropouts) have used technology to remake our society.
But I think you would agree that, lately, the results haven’t been neat or straightforward.
Now, some people say, we should leave it in God’s hands. But most religious leaders, I’m happy to say, disagree. After all, where in the Bible, or the Torah, or the Koran, or any other book about faith or philosophy, does it teach that we should do things that make floods and fires and plagues more severe? I must have missed that day in religion class.
Today, most Americans in both parties accept that human activity is driving the climate crisis and they want government to take action. Over the past two months, there has been a healthy debate – mostly within the Democratic Party – over what those actions should be. And that’s great.
In the years ahead, we need to build consensus around comprehensive and ambitious federal policies that the next Congress should pass. But everyone who is concerned about the climate crisis should also be able to agree on two realities.
The first one is, given opposition in the Senate and White House, there is virtually no chance of passing such policies before 20xx. And the second reality is we can’t wait to act. We can’t put this mission off any longer. Mother Nature does not wait on the election calendar – and neither can we.
Our foundation, Bloomberg Philanthropies, have been working for years to rally cities, and states, and businesses to lead on this issue – and we’ve had real success. Just not enough.
It has an extremely important function. Without it, we literally can't interface with others. We can't hatch plans and climb that stairway of popularity, of successBut my skin color wasn't right. My hair wasn't right. My history wasn't right. My self became defined by otherness, which meant that, in that social world, I didn't really exist. And I was "other" before being anything else -- even before being a girl. I was a noticeable nobody.Another world was opening up around this time: performance and dancing. That nagging dread of self-hood didn't exist when I was dancing. I'd literally lose myself. And I was a really good dancer. I would put all my emotional expression into my dancing. I could be in the movement in a way that I wasn't able to be in my real life, in myself.