供给侧改革是什么意思哈佛大学开学典礼演讲稿
哈佛大学开学典礼演讲稿范文
And so it is here―the week of your Commencement. The days of miracle and wonder when your thes are written, class have ended, and you still have free HBO. And so it may em strange to be gathered here today, as we pau for this ancient and curious custom called the Baccalaureate―but here we are, me in a pulpit and you in pews, dresd for a rmon in which I am to impart the sober wisdom of age to the mi-sober impatience of youth. Now, it is a daunting task. Especially since over the cour of four years I have succeeded in disconcerting people on all sides of the many issues that you will soon be discussing with parents and grandparents over dinner―so in addition to a speech, for handy reference I’ve created a Placemat for Commencement, filled with uful phras. Such as, “It’s ‘final club,’ without an ‘s.’”
属虎和属龙的相配吗 Now, I am truly privileged today, for you are an extraordinary group. Your 80 countries of origin do not begin to describe you.
You may remember the day when we escaped the rain at your Freshman Convocation, and you heard from me and a phalanx of elders in dark robes: Connect, we said, make Harvard part of your narrative. Take risks, we told you. Don’t always listen to us.客户关系管理理论
And for four years you have distinguished yourlves with dazzling variety: In what may be Harvard’s most divergent dozen, you produced six Rhodes Scholars, including one who broke the world record for standing on a “Swiss” exerci ball, plus six athletes invited to the National Football League to play ball, players who interests range from the ministry to curing infectious dias.大国崛起之路
You were good at long distances: You probed the atmosphere of an exoplanet; rearched antibiotic u on a pig farm in Denmark; and you created a pilot program that cut shuttle times from the Quad by half.
You experienced old traditions: The mumps. A class color, orange. And the time-honored Lampoon theft of the Crimson president’s chair―this time transporting it across state lines to Manhattan’s Trump Tower, for a staged photo op with a then dark-hor president
ial candidate.
You found your way: on campus, through a maze of renovations and swing housing; onstage, doing stand-up comedy on NBC, dancing in Bogota, and mounting Black Magic at the Loeb; through the halls of business and finance, running an intercollegiate investment fund; and exposing a privacy issue with Facebook’s Mesnger app.
You won, with style and grace: as you captured the first national trophy for Harvard Mock Trial―by being funnier than Yale; and then you shellacked the Bulldogs in The Game for―yes―the 9th straight year; you produced the first Ivy “three-peats” in football and women’s track; and brought home the first Ivy crown in women’s rugby―how “Fierce and Beautiful” was that!
幸福的反义词 And, of cour, all this was powered by HUDS, since 20xx, powered with cealess rvings of swai.
And you were just plain good: You wrote prize-winning thes on a level change, a wa
ter crisis in Detroit; you engineered a better barbecue smoker―and tested it in a blizzard; you joined the fight to end malaria; and earned the award for best hockey player in the NCAA for strength of character as well as skill; you became well connected―to Alzheimer’s patients, to kids in Kenya, to homeless youth; and, as the inaugural class of Ed School Teacher Fellows, 20 of you are preparing to help high-need students ri.
银行营销
湖北哪里好玩 And I understand you even rested with ambition, as you tried to “Netflix and chill.”
You made it all look easy―all while facing blows to the spirit that have tempered and tested you. You arrived just after a breach of academic trust that, by your nior year, produced the first honor code in Harvard’s history, events that raid hard questions for all of us: What is success? What is integrity? To whom, or what, are we accountable?
When a hurricane prompted the first Harvard closing in 34 years, you rallied with generosity and goodwill―and did so again when we clod for snowstorm Nemo―the fifth largest in Boston history. And that was just a warm up, so to speak, for the Winter of Our Miry―the worst in Boston history―when you sledded the slopes of Widener in a k
ayak.
And when the bombs went off at the Boston Marathon, in just your cond mester, we considered still larger questions: Who are we? What matters most? What do we owe to one another? You told me that you became Bostonians that day, bonded to a city beyond Harvard Square, and to each other during the manhunt and lockdown, when the University clod for an unprecedented third time in 6 months.
Who can forget the images―of the mayhem, of the people who ran, not for safety, buttoward the danger, into the chaos? The Army veteran, who smelled cordite, and expecting more bombs, saved a college student’s life; the man in the cowboy hat, who ripped away fencing in order to reach the most injured. And who can forget the moment when Red Sox first baman David Ortiz stood in the center of Fenway Park and said in eleven words of fellowship and defiance that the FCC cho not to censor, though I will today―“this is our [bleeping] city and nobody[’s] gonna dictate our freedom.”
