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News & Photos
Headmaster Charlie Britton addresses graduates
Today, I’m not here to give the Class of 2010 advice. Please be assured, that’s the last thing I’m going to do at Commencement. The last time I gave advice in a speech, and this was a few years ago, I went on and on about the evils of video games; and then a few weeks later, was asked by my son if I wanted to play a video game called, “Madden NFL.” I heard the pleading of my son, and figured, okay, I’ll amuse him and play the dumb game for a couple of minutes. Two hours later I was hooked and spent the next three months trying to figure out which button to push to make a virtual Tom Brady throw a pass. No – no advice today.
I’m also going to avoid the biggest Commencement address cliché in the world. That’s where the speaker urges the graduates to go forth into the world and try new things. You know, don’t pass up that opportunity to bungee jump, ballroom dance, sky dive, or read War and Peace in the newest translation. I have a painful story about trying new things. Several years ago I felt particularly adventurous and decided to try Sushi. I’m not a big raw fish guy, but I thought, why not? It seems to be the rage. So I ordered a Sushi Roll, and a few minutes later, it was delivered to my table. And lo and behold, I was delighted. The food presentation was perfect and there was this big, green chunk of what looked like avocado on the side. Now, I love avocados. I’m a big fan of avocados. So I take this green chunk of avocado with my chopsticks and stick the entire thing in my mouth. I take a huge bite – and then it hit me. It was like a propane tank exploding in my head. Tears gushed. My eyebrows felt like they were burning off. Then, just before I reached desperately for my water glass, I heard my sister-in-law say, “My goodness, you didn’t eat the wasabi, did you?” Call me unsophisticated. Call me whatever. Welcome to Sushi!
What I hope to convey this morning centers on commitment. It’s my observation that the healthiest people, the people who live the most fulfilled lives, have a commitment to something greater than themselves. This commitment gives them a sense of place, a sense of belonging, and a strong desire to put their own needs aside for the good of something greater. Recently, I received a letter from a McDonogh graduate from the Class of 1955. He wrote a beautiful missive about the school and how he hoped students would take one of the poems he learned, a poem which is still being taught at McDonogh, to heart. This retired Colonel wrote, “One of the poems we learned in the Lower School was entitled, “Be the Best of Whatever You Are.” The lines we all remember are, “We can’t all be captains/ we have to be crew/ There’s something for all of us here!” The larger message is that there is that “something” for all of us. For this graduate, that “something” was his commitment to a lifetime of military service and a commitment to his family. For others, it could be a myriad of things. But for people who truly lead a life worth living, the pursuit of happiness does not necessarily mean that brand new luxury car, but living so that we feel the calling of that “something,” a calling worth living for. For those seniors who recently spent two weeks in Ghana completing “Mission Emmanuel,” there is no better example of doing that “something” which makes a difference in your own life and the life of others.
You have all felt the steady and grand pulse of this school – some of you since kindergarten. You all have felt that in your commitment to McDonogh that there is “something” bigger than all of us… “something” great and worth tethering ourselves to. In future years, when you look for meaning in your life, think about your experience at McDonogh – think about the work you did, the challenges you faced, the relationships you built, and take that sense of belonging to “something bigger” and create it in your adult lives.
To conclude, I want to share a letter that a senior wrote in an English class this year. The assignment was to write a letter to yourself. This senior wrote:
As our thirteen-year journey through McDonogh comes to an end, I feel it is best to reflect on the many memories we have created here. Please, for our sake, never forget them.
Never forget the day you interviewed at McDonogh. The interviewer requested you say a word that began with the letter “N.” You said narwhal. For that matter, never forget what a narwhal is.
Never forget that day in kindergarten when your friends decorated you with flowers and went on a search for boys in the class that wanted to marry you. Or the many times your mom scolded you for ruining the washing machine by leaving rocks in your pockets. When she questioned you about it you told her, “Mom, I’m a scientist.” Never forget how McDonogh made you love learning.
Never forget the first grade teacher, who convinced your parents to buy you a dog after showing them the many stories and pictures you had created about dogs. Or the brightness of the stage lights as you acted your heart out as one of America’s first settlers in the second grade play.
Never forget those incredibly awkward years in middle school. You should always wonder why your friends didn’t tell you that a middle part wasn’t the best look for you or that the side bun was a little outdated.
Don’t ever forget the indescribable feeling that consumed you as you stood up to deliver your 7th grade oratory to the whole middle school. And the surprising happiness you felt as you spotted your mom in the audience, even though you begged her not to come.
Never forget falling in love. And breaking up. And falling in love. Then breaking up. And finally, falling in love.
Never forget the school spirit. The orange, the black, the screaming, the cheering, the love. Parading into the McDonogh-Gilman games and feeling part of something bigger. In the sea of orange, we were just one small fish. Just remember how great it felt to support the school you love. The school that has given you so much.
Never forget graduation. The day that you will become a product of McDonogh, and no longer a McDonogh student. The teachers, the deans, and the rest of the faculty, they will be done with you on that day. But you should never forget them and everything you have gained from knowing them.
Never forget McDonogh and all of the opportunities it has provided you with. This school has made you who you are. Don’t you ever forget that.
Congratulations seniors. You have been a great class! I wish you the very best!
Today, I’m not here to give the Class of 2010 advice. Please be assured, that’s the last thing I’m going to do at Commencement. The last time I gave advice in a speech, and this was a few years ago, I went on and on about the evils of video games; and then a few weeks later, was asked by my son if I wanted to play a video game called, “Madden NFL.” I heard the pleading of my son, and figured, okay, I’ll amuse him and play the dumb game for a couple of minutes. Two hours later I was hooked and spent the next three months trying to figure out which button to push to make a virtual Tom Brady throw a pass. No – no advice today.
I’m also going to avoid the biggest Commencement address cliché in the world. That’s where the speaker urges the graduates to go forth into the world and try new things. You know, don’t pass up that opportunity to bungee jump, ballroom dance, sky dive, or read War and Peace in the newest translation. I have a painful story about trying new things. Several years ago I felt particularly adventurous and decided to try Sushi. I’m not a big raw fish guy, but I thought, why not? It seems to be the rage. So I ordered a Sushi Roll, and a few minutes later, it was delivered to my table. And lo and behold, I was delighted. The food presentation was perfect and there was this big, green chunk of what looked like avocado on the side. Now, I love avocados. I’m a big fan of avocados. So I take this green chunk of avocado with my chopsticks and stick the entire thing in my mouth. I take a huge bite – and then it hit me. It was like a propane tank exploding in my head. Tears gushed. My eyebrows felt like they were burning off. Then, just before I reached desperately for my water glass, I heard my sister-in-law say, “My goodness, you didn’t eat the wasabi, did you?” Call me unsophisticated. Call me whatever. Welcome to Sushi!
What I hope to convey this morning centers on commitment. It’s my observation that the healthiest people, the people who live the most fulfilled lives, have a commitment to something greater than themselves. This commitment gives them a sense of place, a sense of belonging, and a strong desire to put their own needs aside for the good of something greater. Recently, I received a letter from a McDonogh graduate from the Class of 1955. He wrote a beautiful missive about the school and how he hoped students would take one of the poems he learned, a poem which is still being taught at McDonogh, to heart. This retired Colonel wrote, “One of the poems we learned in the Lower School was entitled, “Be the Best of Whatever You Are.” The lines we all remember are, “We can’t all be captains/ we have to be crew/ There’s something for all of us here!” The larger message is that there is that “something” for all of us. For this graduate, that “something” was his commitment to a lifetime of military service and a commitment to his family. For others, it could be a myriad of things. But for people who truly lead a life worth living, the pursuit of happiness does not necessarily mean that brand new luxury car, but living so that we feel the calling of that “something,” a calling worth living for. For those seniors who recently spent two weeks in Ghana completing “Mission Emmanuel,” there is no better example of doing that “something” which makes a difference in your own life and the life of others.
You have all felt the steady and grand pulse of this school – some of you since kindergarten. You all have felt that in your commitment to McDonogh that there is “something” bigger than all of us… “something” great and worth tethering ourselves to. In future years, when you look for meaning in your life, think about your experience at McDonogh – think about the work you did, the challenges you faced, the relationships you built, and take that sense of belonging to “something bigger” and create it in your adult lives.
To conclude, I want to share a letter that a senior wrote in an English class this year. The assignment was to write a letter to yourself. This senior wrote:
As our thirteen-year journey through McDonogh comes to an end, I feel it is best to reflect on the many memories we have created here. Please, for our sake, never forget them.
Never forget the day you interviewed at McDonogh. The interviewer requested you say a word that began with the letter “N.” You said narwhal. For that matter, never forget what a narwhal is.
Never forget that day in kindergarten when your friends decorated you with flowers and went on a search for boys in the class that wanted to marry you. Or the many times your mom scolded you for ruining the washing machine by leaving rocks in your pockets. When she questioned you about it you told her, “Mom, I’m a scientist.” Never forget how McDonogh made you love learning.
Never forget the first grade teacher, who convinced your parents to buy you a dog after showing them the many stories and pictures you had created about dogs. Or the brightness of the stage lights as you acted your heart out as one of America’s first settlers in the second grade play.
Never forget those incredibly awkward years in middle school. You should always wonder why your friends didn’t tell you that a middle part wasn’t the best look for you or that the side bun was a little outdated.
Don’t ever forget the indescribable feeling that consumed you as you stood up to deliver your 7th grade oratory to the whole middle school. And the surprising happiness you felt as you spotted your mom in the audience, even though you begged her not to come.
Never forget falling in love. And breaking up. And falling in love. Then breaking up. And finally, falling in love.
Never forget the school spirit. The orange, the black, the screaming, the cheering, the love. Parading into the McDonogh-Gilman games and feeling part of something bigger. In the sea of orange, we were just one small fish. Just remember how great it felt to support the school you love. The school that has given you so much.
Never forget graduation. The day that you will become a product of McDonogh, and no longer a McDonogh student. The teachers, the deans, and the rest of the faculty, they will be done with you on that day. But you should never forget them and everything you have gained from knowing them.
Never forget McDonogh and all of the opportunities it has provided you with. This school has made you who you are. Don’t you ever forget that.
Congratulations seniors. You have been a great class! I wish you the very best!