应届毕业典礼独特内涵三分钟英语演讲稿范文（精选20篇）
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.
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.
Our little portion of oneness is given a name, is told all kinds of things about itself, and these details, opinions and ideas become facts, which go towards building ourselves, our identity. And that self becomes the vehicle for navigating our social world. But the self is a projection based on other people's projections. Is it who we really are? Or who we really want to be, or should be?So this whole interaction with self and identity was a very difficult one for me growing up. The self that I attempted to take out into the world was rejected over and over again. And my panic at not having a self that fit, and the confusion that came from my self being rejected, created anxiety, shame and hopelessness, which kind of defined me for a long time.
Now, a lot of you – the vast majority – won’t find yourselves in tech at all. That’s as it should be. We need your minds at work far and wide, because our challenges are great, and they can’t be solved by any single industry.
No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I know you will be ambitious. You wouldn’t be here today if you weren’t. Match that ambition with humility – a humility of purpose.
That doesn’t mean being tamer, being smaller, being less in what you do. It’s the opposite, it’s about serving something greater. The author Madeleine L’Engle wrote, “Humility is throwing oneself away in complete concentration on something or someone else.”
In other words, whatever you do with your life, be a builder.
You don’t have to start from scratch to build something monumental. And, conversely, the best founders – the ones whose creations last and whose reputations grow rather than shrink with passing time – they spend most of their time building, piece by piece.
Builders are comfortable in the belief that their life’s work will one day be bigger than them – bigger than any one person. They’re mindful that its effects will span generations. That’s not an accident. In a way, it’s the whole point.
When the door was busted open by police, it was not the knock of opportunity or the call of destiny. It was just another instance of the world telling them that they ought to feel worthless for being different.
you’re not supposed to be. Find the hope in the unexpected. Find the courage in the challenge. Find your vision on the solitary road.
Don’t get distracted.
There are too many people who want credit without responsibility.
Too many who show up for the ribbon cutting without building anything worth a damn.
Be different. Leave something worthy.In a few days, we will mark the 50th anniversary of the riots at Stonewall.
When the patrons of the Stonewall Inn showed up that night – people of all races, gay and transgender, young and old – they had no idea what history had in store for them. It would have seemed foolish to dream it.
And always remember that you can’t take it with you. You’re going to have to pass it on.
Thank you very much. And Congratulations to the Class of 20xx!
The thing that was a source of shame was actually a source of enlightenment.And when I realized and really understood that my self is a projection and that it has a function, a funny thing happened. I stopped giving it so much authority. I give it its due. I take it to therapy. I've become very familiar with its dysfunctional behavior. But I'm not ashamed of my self. In fact, I respect my self and its function. And over time and with practice, I've tried to live more and more from my essence. And if you can do that, incredible things happen.I was in Congo in February, dancing and celebrating with women who've survived the destruction of their selves in literally unthinkable ways -- destroyed because other brutalized,
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.
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.
the group gathered there felt something strengthen in them. A conviction that they deserved something better than the shadows, and better than oblivion.
And if it wasn’t going to be given, then they were going to have to build it themselves.
I was 8 years old and a thousand miles away when Stonewall happened. There were no news alerts, no way for photos to go viral, no mechanism for a kid on the Gulf Coast to hear these unlikely heroes tell their stories.
Greenwich Village may as well have been a different planet, though I can tell you that the slurs and hatreds were the same.
What I would not know, for a long time, was what I owed to a group of people I never knew in a place I’d never been.
Yet I will never stop being grateful for what they had the courage to build.
Graduates, being a builder is about believing that you cannot possibly be the greatest cause on this Earth, because you aren’t built to last. It’s about making peace with the fact that you won’t be there for the end of the story.
That brings me to my last bit of advice.
Fourteen years ago, Steve stood on this stage and told your predecessors: “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.”
I really want to live in a world where disability is not the exception, but the norm. I want to live in a world where a 15-year-old girl sitting in her bedroom watching "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" isn't referred to as achieving anything because she's doing it sitting down. I want to live in a world where we don't have such low expectations of disabled people that we are congratulated for getting out of bed and remembering our own names in the morning. I want to live in a world where we value genuine achievement for disabled people, and I want to live in a world where a kid in year 11 in a Melbourne high school is not one bit surprised that his new teacher is a wheelchair user. Disability doesn't make you exceptional, but questioning what you think you know about it does. Thank you.
I’ve yet to meet anyone who thinks that this world that we live in is perfect. This is not a political statement. It’s equally true of liberals and conservatives, Democrats and Republicans. And if you don’t think the world that we live in is perfect, the only way it gets better is if good people work to repair it. Our students, our faculty, our staff and alumni are doing that daily, and it makes me so proud.
This year, I had the privilege to meet, and be moved by, not just one but two of the nation’s preeminent poets – the United States Youth Poet Laureate, our own Amanda Gorman, and the United States Poet Laureate, our own Tracy K. Smith. I’ve also had the chance to marvel at artists who every day breathe life into our campus with their performances and their creative work – it’s amazing to see the talent that is represented on this campus and among our alumni, our faculty, and staff.
And every day, I’ve learned more about the remarkable efforts of our faculty to improve the world:
Alison Simmons and Barbara Grosz were [are] making sure that the next generation of computer scientists is prepared to address the ethical questions posed by the development of new digital technologies;
Ali Malkawi and his HouseZero, which is demonstrating the possibilities of ultra-efficient design and new building technology to respond to the threat of climate change;
Sasha Kill Ewald, who’s revealing how marriage and parenthood affects wages, and helping us understand why economic inequality persists across generations – and also how we might break the cycle of poverty.
I’ve also come to know about the work…
Of Conor Walsh, who’s helping people with neurodegenerative and neuromuscular diseases walk again with soft exosuits that use the latest robotic technology to help improve movement;
Of Sara Bleich, who’s helping to address the obesity epidemic by considering how changes in public policy can reduce consumption of high-calorie foods and soft drinks;
Of Tony Jack, who’s changing how colleges think about supporting disadvantaged students and improving their prospects not just in college but throughout life;
Of Arlene Sharpe and Gordon Freeman, who are giving hope to cancer patients by harnessing the body’s own immune system to treat disease;
Of Xiaowei Zhuang, whose super-resolution imaging is enabling scientists to look inside cells with unprecedented clarity and see how molecules function and interact;
Of Andrew Crespo, who’s culled massive amounts of data from our trial courts to change how we think about our system of criminal justice – and how we might actually improve it.
If any one of you has doubts about your own creative capacity, think again. Over these last four years, you’ve designed – with the help of our faculty, staff, and those around you – the greatest masterpiece of all: yourself.
Class of 20xx, I have every confidence that you will let your creativity reign as you seek to impact the world and become every bit the person you wish to be.
Congratulations, once more, to all of you! May you meet with success and happiness always, and forever keep Dartmouth close to your hearts. Congratulations.
I’d like to offer my best wishes to my fellow honorands; to the staff and faculty of the College; to the parents and families of the graduates, who have supported and guided them through all these years; and to all the graduates – this is your day! Congratulations!
You have not only completed four memorable years, you even made it, in whatever state you’re in, to commencement!
I could begin by telling you you’re special, but I suspect your families have already told you that. I could tell you that you’re smart, but I’m certain your professors have already told you that, too. That you’re accomplished is without question – just look at where you’re sitting today!
When the dust settled, all I knew was that I was going to have to be the best version of myself that I could be.
I knew that if you got out of bed every morning and set your watch by what other people expect or demand, it’ll drive you crazy.
So what was true then is true now. Don’t waste your time living someone else’s life. Don’t try to emulate the people who came before you to the exclusion of everything else, contorting into a shape that doesn’t fit.
It takes too much mental effort – effort that should be dedicated to creating and building. You’ll waste precious time trying to rewire your every thought, and, in the meantime, you won’t be fooling anybody.
Graduates, the fact is, when your time comes, and it will, you’ll never be ready.
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.
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.
Here we are again. My favorite moment of the year. It’s a genuine day of dreams: in the student section, dreams of new careers, marriage, children, new adventures. In the parents’ seating, dreams of what to do with that disposable income they’re no longer sending to West Lafayette. All in all, a day like no other.
My own dreams about today sometimes are more like nightmares. What to say that’s fitting – that’s meaningful but still concise enough to get us on to the main event quickly? Hardest of all, what to say that’s the least bit original?
While dreaming, or daydreaming, about today, I found myself thinking about Purdue Pete. Again, this year, Pete was ranked among the most identified college mascots in the country, and the favorite in our Big Ten Conference.
A few years before your class arrived on campus, someone tried to redo Pete and turn him into some new symbol of our school. I wasn’t here, either, but as told to me, the idea started an immediate backlash, a near-riot, and died within days. I got to thinking about “why?”
Maybe part of it was his uniqueness. At my last count, there were 64 Eagles, 46 Tigers, and 33 Wildcats among college mascots. But there’s only one set of Boilermakers.
But I think our attachment to Pete stems mainly from the way he personifies our self-image of strength. When our up-and-coming football program chose its slogan for this year, it was “Only the Strong.” One of the year’s YouTube sensations featured a five-foot-nine Purdue player squatting 600 pounds.
Here’s my corollary: “Your mentors may leave you prepared, but they can’t leave you ready.”
When Steve got sick, I had hardwired my thinking to the belief that he would get better. I not only thought he would hold on, I was convinced, down to my core, that he’d still be guiding Apple long after I, myself, was gone.
Then, one day, he called me over to his house and told me that it wasn’t going to be that way.
Even then, I was convinced he would stay on as chairman. That he’d step back from the day to day but always be there as a sounding board.
But there was no reason to believe that. I never should have thought it. The facts were all there.
And when he was gone, truly gone, I learned the real, visceral difference between preparation and readiness.
It was the loneliest I’ve ever felt in my life. By an order of magnitude. It was one of those moments where you can be surrounded by people, yet you don’t really see, hear or feel them. But I could sense their expectations.
But in retrospect, the destruction of my self was so repetitive that I started to see a pattern. The self changed, got affected, broken, destroyed, but another one would evolve -- sometimes stronger, sometimes hateful, sometimes not wanting to be there at all.The self was not constant. And how many times would my self have to die before I realized that it was never alive in the first place?I grew up on the coast of England in the '70s. My dad is white from Cornwall, and my mom is black from Zimbabwe. Even the idea of us as a family was challenging to most people. But nature had its wicked way, and brown babies were born. But from about the age of five, I was aware that I didn't fit. I was the black atheist kid in the all-white Catholic school run by nuns.I was an anomaly, and my self was rooting around for definition and trying to plug in. Because the self likes to fit, to see itself replicated, to belong. That confirms its existence and its importance. And it is important.
we have to be part of a solution through political activism that puts the screws to our elected officials. Let me reiterate, this has gone from a scientific challenge to a political one. And it’s time for all of us to recognize that climate change is the challenge of our time.
As President Kennedy said 57 years ago on the moon mission, “we are willing to accept this challenge, we are unwilling to postpone it, and we intend to win it.” We must again do what is hard. Dammit, I meant to say hard.
Graduates, we need your minds and your creativity to achieve a clean energy future. But that’s not all. We need your voices. We need your votes. And we need you to help lead us where Washington will not. It may be a moonshot, but it’s the only shot we’ve got.
As you leave this campus, I hope you will carry with you the MIT’s tradition of taking – and making – moonshots. Be ambitious in every facet of your life. And don’t ever let something stop you because people say it’s impossible. Let those words inspire you. Because just as trying to make the impossible possible can lead to achievements you’ve never dreamed of. And sometimes, you actually do land on the moon.