Words to My Seniors
Some of you may remember that I spent the last bit of last semester teaching English literature. But wait, you’re a marketer, not an English teacher, Reb! You’re not certified! You’ll brainwash ’em! Yes, yes, I will. Er, did. So much so that those juniors (now seniors) on the yearbook team have
obeyed my orders invited me to be among the select few to provide “Words of Wisdom” to their graduating class. My first draft went something like this:
When someone says “You have so much potential!”, what they’re really saying is “Get off your ass and do something, you dingbat.” Happy graduation!
Well, that’s not inappropriate at all. Try again, Reb. And be nicer.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
You didn’t write that, Reb. The Bible did. That’s called plagiarism.
Life will hand you lemons, so make sure you’ve got plenty of bourbon.
Again, totes inappropro. Also, can you get anymore impersonal? Like, incorporate something meaningful that you share with these young men and women whom you’ve grown to love and want the best for. Geez.
I’m not going to tell you how great you are or how great you can be. Let’s be real. Fitzgerald wrote The Great Gatsby because people like you and me choose each day to live nominal, selfish lives. To sail through, squeeze by, boop boop under the radar. We’re passionate alright, but for success dictated by this world. We polish and shine our trophies made up of the shallow, the hollow, the inferior. Congratulations. There’s our legacy. Same as everybody else’s. Frivolous. Ashes. Nothing. Consider then, at this pivotal moment of graduation, the radical, the worthwhile. Follow Christ, my friends. It’s the only thing worth dying for. Meaning it’s the only thing worth living for.