以下是小编为大家准备的莱梅斯在达特茅斯学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿,本文共7篇,仅供参考,大家一起来看看吧。

篇1:莱梅斯在达特茅斯学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

莱梅斯在达特茅斯学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

President Hanlon, faculty, staff, honored guests, parents, students, families and friends—good morning and congratulations to the Dartmouth graduating class of !

So.

This is weird.

Me giving a speech. In general, I do not like giving speeches. Giving a speech requires standingin front of large groups of people while they look at you and it also requires talking. I can do thestanding part OK. But the you looking and the me talking ... I am not a fan. I get thisoverwhelming feeling of fear. Terror, really. Dry mouth, heart beats superfast, everythinggets a little bit slow motion. Like I might pass out. Or die. Or poop my pants or something. Imean, don’t worry. I’m not going to pass out or die or poop my pants. Mainly because just bytelling you that it could happen, I have somehow neutralized it as an option. Like as if saying itout loud casts some kind of spell where now it cannot possibly happen now. Vomit. I couldvomit. See. Vomiting is now also off the table. Neutralized it. We’re good.

Anyway, the point is. I do not like to give speeches. I’m a writer. I’m a TV writer. I like to writestuff for other people to say. I actually contemplated bringing Ellen Pompeo or KerryWashington here to say my speech for me ... but my lawyer pointed out that when you dragsomeone across state lines against their will, the FBI comes looking for you, so...

I don’t like giving speeches, in general, because of the fear and terror. But this speech? Thisspeech, I really did not want to give.

A Dartmouth Commencement speech? Dry mouth. Heart beats so, so fast. Everything in slowmotion. Pass out, die, poop.

Look, it would be fine if this were, 20 years ago. If it were back in the day when I graduatedfrom Dartmouth. Twenty-three years ago, I was sitting right where you are now. And I waslistening to Elizabeth Dole speak. And she was great. She was calm and she was confident. Itwas just ... different. It felt like she was just talking to a group of people. Like a fireside chatwith friends. Just Liddy Dole and like 9,000 of her closest friends. Because it was 20 years ago.And she was just talking to a group of people.

Now? Twenty years later? This is no fireside chat. It’s not just you and me. This speech is filmedand streamed and tweeted and uploaded. NPR has like, a whole site dedicated toCommencement speeches. A whole site just about commencement speeches. There are sitesthat rate them and mock them and dissect them. It’s weird. And stressful. And kind ofvicious if you’re an introvert perfectionist writer who hates speaking in public in the firstplace.

When President Hanlon called me—and by the way, I would like to thank President Hanlon forasking me way back in January, thus giving me a full six months of terror and panic to enjoy.When President Hanlon called me, I almost said no. Almost.

Dry mouth. Heart beats so, so fast. Everything in slow motion. Pass out, die, poop.

But I’m here. I am gonna do it. I’m doing it. You know why?

Because I like a challenge. And because this year I made myself a promise that I was going todo the stuff that terrifies me. And because, 20-plus years ago when I was trudging uphill fromthe River Cluster through all that snow to get to the Hop for play rehearsal, I never imaginedthat I would one day be standing here, at the Old Pine lectern. Staring out at all of you. Aboutto throw down on some wisdom in the Dartmouth Commencement address.

So, you know, yeah. Moments.

Also, I’m here because I really, really wanted some EBAs.

篇2:莱梅斯在达特茅斯学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

莱梅斯在达特茅斯学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

President Hanlon, faculty, staff, honored guests, parents, students, families and friends―good morning and congratulations to the Dartmouth graduating class of 20xx!

So.

This is weird.

Me giving a speech. In general, I do not like giving speeches. Giving a speech requires standingin front of large groups of people while they look at you and it also requires talking. I can do thestanding part OK. But the you looking and the me talking ... I am not a fan. I get thisoverwhelming feeling of fear. Terror, really. Dry mouth, heart beats superfast, everythinggets a little bit slow motion. Like I might pass out. Or die. Or poop my pants or something. Imean, don’t worry. I’m not going to pass out or die or poop my pants. Mainly because just bytelling you that it could happen, I have somehow neutralized it as an option. Like as if saying itout loud casts some kind of spell where now it cannot possibly happen now. Vomit. I couldvomit. See. Vomiting is now also off the table. Neutralized it. We’re good.

Anyway, the point is. I do not like to give speeches. I’m a writer. I’m a TV writer. I like to writestuff for other people to say. I actually contemplated bringing Ellen Pompeo or KerryWashington here to say my speech for me ... but my lawyer pointed out that when you dragsomeone across state lines against their will, the FBI comes looking for you, so...

I don’t like giving speeches, in general, because of the fear and terror. But this speech? Thisspeech, I really did not want to give.

A Dartmouth Commencement speech? Dry mouth. Heart beats so, so fast. Everything in slowmotion. Pass out, die, poop.

Look, it would be fine if this were, 20 years ago. If it were back in the day when I graduatedfrom Dartmouth. Twenty-three years ago, I was sitting right where you are now. And I waslistening to Elizabeth Dole speak. And she was great. She was calm and she was confident. Itwas just ... different. It felt like she was just talking to a group of people. Like a fireside chatwith friends. Just Liddy Dole and like 9,000 of her closest friends. Because it was 20 years ago.And she was just talking to a group of people.

Now? Twenty years later? This is no fireside chat. It’s not just you and me. This speech is filmedand streamed and tweeted and uploaded. NPR has like, a whole site dedicated toCommencement speeches. A whole site just about commencement speeches. There are sitesthat rate them and mock them and dissect them. It’s weird. And stressful. And kind ofvicious if you’re an introvert perfectionist writer who hates speaking in public in the firstplace.

When President Hanlon called me―and by the way, I would like to thank President Hanlon forasking me way back in January, thus giving me a full six months of terror and panic to enjoy.When President Hanlon called me, I almost said no. Almost.

Dry mouth. Heart beats so, so fast. Everything in slow motion. Pass out, die, poop.

But I’m here. I am gonna do it. I’m doing it. You know why?

Because I like a challenge. And because this year I made myself a promise that I was going todo the stuff that terrifies me. And because, 20-plus years ago when I was trudging uphill fromthe River Cluster through all that snow to get to the Hop for play rehearsal, I never imaginedthat I would one day be standing here, at the Old Pine lectern. Staring out at all of you. Aboutto throw down on some wisdom in the Dartmouth Commencement address.

So, you know, yeah. Moments.

Also, I’m here because I really, really wanted some EBAs.

OK.

I want to say right now that every single time someone asked me what I was going to talkabout in this speech, I would boldly and confidently tell them that I had all kinds wisdom toshare. I was lying. I feel wildly unqualified to give you advice. There is no wisdom here. So allI can do is talk about some stuff that could maybe be useful to you, from one Dartmouth gradto another. Some stuff that won’t ever show up in a Meredith Grey voiceover or a Papa Popemonologue. Some stuff I probably shouldn’t be telling you here now because of the uploadingand the streaming and the tweeting. But I am going to pretend that it is 20 years ago. Thatit’s just you and me. That we’re having a fireside chat. Screw the outside world and what theythink. I’ve already said “poop” like five times already anyway ... things are getting real up inhere.

OK, wait. Before I talk to you. I want to talk to your parents. Because the other thing about itbeing 20 years later is that I’m a mother now. So I know some things, some very differentthings. I have three girls. I’ve been to the show. You don’t know what that means, but yourparents do. You think this day is all about you. But your parents ... the people who raised you... the people who endured you ... they potty trained you, they taught you to read, theysurvived you as a teenager, they have suffered 21 years and not once did they kill you. This day... you call it your graduation day. But this day is not about you. This is their day. This is theday they take back their lives, this is the day they earn their freedom. This day is theirIndependence Day. So, parents, I salute you. And as I have an eight-month-old, I hope to joinyour ranks of freedom in 20 years!

OK. So here comes the real deal part of the speech, or you might call it, Some Random StuffSome Random Alum Who Runs a TV Show Thinks I Should Know Before I Graduate:

You ready?

When people give these kinds of speeches, they usually tell you all kinds of wise and heartfeltthings. They have wisdom to impart. They have lessons to share. They tell you: Follow yourdreams. Listen to your spirit. Change the world. Make your mark. Find your inner voice andmake it sing. Embrace failure. Dream. Dream and dream big. As a matter of fact, dream anddon’t stop dreaming until all of your dreams come true.

I think that’s crap.

I think a lot of people dream. And while they are busy dreaming, the really happy people, thereally successful people, the really interesting, engaged, powerful people, are busy doing.

The dreamers. They stare at the sky and they make plans and they hope and they talk about itendlessly. And they start a lot of sentences with “I want to be ...” or “I wish.”

“I want to be a writer.” “I wish I could travel around the world.”

And they dream of it. The buttoned-up ones meet for cocktails and they brag about theirdreams, and the hippie ones have vision boards and they meditate about their dreams. Maybeyou write in journals about your dreams or discuss it endlessly with your best friend or yourgirlfriend or your mother. And it feels really good. You’re talking about it, and you’re planningit. Kind of. You are blue-skying your life. And that is what everyone says you should be doing.Right? I mean, that’s what Oprah and Bill Gates did to get successful, right?

No.

Dreams are lovely. But they are just dreams. Fleeting, ephemeral, pretty. But dreams do notcome true just because you dream them. It’s hard work that makes things happen. It’s hardwork that creates change.

So, Lesson One, I guess is: Ditch the dream and be a doer, not a dreamer. Maybe you knowexactly what it is you dream of being, or maybe you’re paralyzed because you have no idea whatyour passion is. The truth is, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to know. You just have to keepmoving forward. You just have to keep doing something, seizing the next opportunity, stayingopen to trying something new. It doesn’t have to fit your vision of the perfect job or the perfectlife. Perfect is boring and dreams are not real. Just ... do. So you think, “I wish I could travel.”Great. Sell your crappy car, buy a ticket to Bangkok, and go. Right now. I’m serious.

You want to be a writer? A writer is someone who writes every day, so start writing. You don’thave a job? Get one. Any job. Don’t sit at home waiting for the magical opportunity. Who areyou? Prince William? No. Get a job. Go to work. Do something until you can do something else.

I did not dream of being a TV writer. Never, not once when I was here in the hallowed halls ofthe Ivy League, did I say to myself, “Self, I want to write TV.”

You know what I wanted to be? I wanted to be Nobel Prize-winning author Toni Morrison. Thatwas my dream. I blue sky’ed it like crazy. I dreamed and dreamed. And while I was dreaming, Iwas living in my sister’s basement. Dreamers often end up living in the basements of relatives,FYI. Anyway, there I was in that basement, and I was dreaming of being Nobel Prize-winningauthor Toni Morrison. And guess what? I couldn’t be Nobel Prize-winning author Toni Morrison,because Toni Morrison already had that job and she wasn’t interested in giving it up. So oneday I was sitting in that basement and I read an article that said―it was in The New YorkTimes―and it said it was harder to get into USC Film School than it was to get into HarvardLaw School. And I thought I could dream about being Toni Morrison, or I could do.

At film school, I discovered an entirely new way of telling stories. A way that suited me. A waythat brought me joy. A way that flipped this switch in my brain and changed the way I saw theworld. Years later, I had dinner with Toni Morrison. All she wanted to talk about was Grey’sAnatomy. That never would have happened if I hadn’t stopped dreaming of becoming her andgotten busy becoming myself.

Lesson Two. Lesson two is that tomorrow is going to be the worst day ever for you.

When I graduated from Dartmouth that day in 1991, when I was sitting right where you areand I was staring up at Elizabeth Dole speaking, I will admit that I have no idea what she wassaying. Couldn’t even listen to her. Not because I was overwhelmed or emotional or any ofthat. But because I had a serious hangover. Like, an epic painful hangover because (and here iswhere I apologize to President Hanlon because I know that you are trying to build a better andmore responsible Dartmouth and I applaud you and I admire you and it is very necessary) butI was really freaking drunk the night before. And the reason I’d been so drunk the night before,the reason I’d done upside down margarita shots at Bones Gate was because I knew that aftergraduation, I was going to take off my cap and gown, my parents were going to pack my stuffin the car and I was going to go home and probably never come back to Hanover again. Andeven if I did come back, it wouldn’t matter because it wouldn’t be the same because I didn’tlive here anymore.

On my graduation day, I was grieving.

My friends were celebrating. They were partying. They were excited. So happy. No more school,no more books, no more teachers’ dirty looks. And I was like, are you freaking kidding me? Youget all the fro-yo you want here! The gym is free. The apartments in Manhattan are smallerthan my suite in North Mass. Who cared if there was no place to get my hair done? All myfriends are here. I have a theatre company here. I was grieving. I knew enough about how theworld works, enough about how adulthood plays out, to be grieving.

Here’s where I am going to embarrass myself and make you all feel maybe a little bit betterabout yourselves. I literally lay down on the floor of my dorm room and cried while my motherpacked up my room. I refused to help her. Like, hell no I won’t go. I nonviolent-protestedleaving here. Like, went limp like a protestor, only without the chanting―it was really pathetic.If none of you lie down on a dirty hardwood floor and cry today while your mommy packs upyour dorm room, you are already starting your careers out ahead of me. You are winning.

But here’s the thing. The thing I really felt like I knew was that the real world sucks. And it isscary. College is awesome. You’re special here. You’re in the Ivy League, you are at the pinnacleof your life’s goals at this point―your entire life up until now has been about getting into somegreat college and then graduating from that college. And now, today, you have done it. Themoment you get out of college, you think you are going to take the world by storm. All doorswill be opened to you. It’s going to be laughter and diamonds and soirees left and right.

What really happens is that, to the rest of the world, you are now at the bottom of the heap.Maybe you’re an intern, possibly a low-paid assistant. And it is awful. The real world, it suckedso badly for me. I felt like a loser all of the time. And more than a loser? I felt lost.

Which brings me to clarify lesson number two.

Tomorrow is going to be the worst day ever for you. But don’t be an asshole.

Here’s the thing. Yes, it is hard out there. But hard is relative. I come from a middle-classfamily, my parents are academics, I was born after the civil rights movement, I was a toddlerduring the women’s movement, I live in the United States of America, all of which means I’mallowed to own my freedom, my rights, my voice, and my uterus; and I went to Dartmouth andI earned an Ivy League degree.

The lint in my navel that accumulated while I gazed at it as I suffered from feeling lost abouthow hard it was to not feel special after graduation ... that navel lint was embarrassed for me.

Elsewhere in the world, girls are harmed simply because they want to get an education. Slaverystill exists. Children still die from malnutrition. In this country, we lose more people tohandgun violence than any other nation in the world. Sexual assault against women inAmerica is pervasive and disturbing and continues at an alarming rate.

So yes, tomorrow may suck for you―as it did for me. But as you stare at the lint in your navel,have some perspective. We are incredibly lucky. We have been given a gift. An incredibleeducation has been placed before us. We ate all the fro-yo we could get our hands on. Weskied. We had EBAs at 1 a.m. We built bonfires and got frostbite and had all the free treadmills.We beer-ponged our asses off. Now it’s time to pay it forward.

Find a cause you love. It’s OK to pick just one. You are going to need to spend a lot of time outin the real world trying to figure out how to stop feeling like a lost loser, so one cause is good.Devote some time every week to it.

Oh. And while we are discussing this, let me say a thing. A hashtag is not helping. #yesallwomen#takebackthenight#notallmen#bringbackourgirls#StopPretendingHashtagsAreTheSameAsDoingSomething

Hashtags are very pretty on Twitter. I love them. I will hashtag myself into next week. But ahashtag is not a movement. A hashtag does not make you Dr. King. A hashtag does notchange anything. It’s a hashtag. It’s you, sitting on your butt, typing on your computer andthen going back to binge-watching your favorite show. I do it all the time. For me, it’s Game ofThrones.

Volunteer some hours. Focus on something outside yourself. Devote a slice of your energiestowards making the world suck less every week. Some people suggest doing this will increaseyour sense of well-being. Some say it’s good karma. I say that it will allow you to rememberthat, whether you are a legacy or the first in your family to go to college, the air you arebreathing right now is rare air. Appreciate it. Don’t be an asshole.

Lesson number three.

So you’re out there, and you’re giving back and you’re doing, and it’s working. And life is good.You are making it. You’re a success. And it’s exciting and it’s great. At least it is for me. I lovemy life. I have three TV shows at work and I have three daughters at home. And it’s allamazing, and I am truly happy. And people are constantly asking me, how do you do it?

And usually, they have this sort of admiring and amazed tone.

Shonda, how do you do it all?

Like I’m full of magical magic and special wisdom-ness or something.

How do you do it all?

And I usually just smile and say like, “I’m really organized.” Or if I’m feeling slightly kindly, Isay, “I have a lot of help.”

And those things are true. But they also are not true.

And this is the thing that I really want to say. To all of you. Not just to the women out there.Although this will matter to you women a great deal as you enter the work force and try tofigure out how to juggle work and family. But it will also matter to the men, who I thinkincreasingly are also trying to figure out how to juggle work and family. And frankly, if youaren’t trying to figure it out, men of Dartmouth, you should be. Fatherhood is being redefinedat a lightning-fast rate. You do not want to be a dinosaur.

So women and men of Dartmouth: As you try to figure out the impossible task of jugglingwork and family and you hear over and over and over again that you just need a lot of help oryou just need to be organized or you just need to try just a little bit harder ... as a verysuccessful woman, a single mother of three, who constantly gets asked the question “How doyou do it all?” For once I am going to answer that question with 100 percent honesty here foryou now. Because it’s just us. Because it’s our fireside chat. Because somebody has to tell youthe truth.

Shonda, how do you do it all?

The answer is this: I don’t.

Whenever you see me somewhere succeeding in one area of my life, that almost certainlymeans I am failing in another area of my life.

If I am killing it on a Scandal script for work, I am probably missing bath and story time athome. If I am at home sewing my kids’ Halloween costumes, I’m probably blowing off a rewriteI was supposed to turn in. If I am accepting a prestigious award, I am missing my baby’s firstswim lesson. If I am at my daughter’s debut in her school musical, I am missing Sandra Oh’slast scene ever being filmed at Grey’s Anatomy. If I am succeeding at one, I am inevitablyfailing at the other. That is the tradeoff. That is the Faustian bargain one makes with the devilthat comes with being a powerful working woman who is also a powerful mother. You never feela hundred percent OK; you never get your sea legs; you are always a little nauseous.Something is always lost.

Something is always missing.

And yet. I want my daughters to see me and know me as a woman who works. I want thatexample set for them. I like how proud they are when they come to my offices and know thatthey come to Shondaland. There is a land and it is named after their mother. In their world,mothers run companies. In their world, mothers own Thursday nights. In their world, motherswork. And I am a better mother for it. The woman I am because I get to run Shondaland,because I get write all day, because I get to spend my days making things up, that woman is abetter person―and a better mother. Because that woman is happy. That woman is fulfilled.That woman is whole. I wouldn’t want them to know the me who didn’t get to do this all daylong. I wouldn’t want them to know the me who wasn’t doing.

Lesson Number Three is that anyone who tells you they are doing it all perfectly is a liar.

OK.

I fear I’ve scared you or been a little bit bleak, and that was not my intention. It is my hopethat you run out of here, excited, leaning forward, into the wind, ready to take the world bystorm. That would be so very fabulous. For you to do what everyone expects of you. For you tojust go be exactly the picture of hardcore Dartmouth awesome.

My point, I think, is that it is OK if you don’t. My point is that it can be scary to graduate. Thatyou can lie on the hardwood floor of your dorm room and cry while your mom packs up yourstuff. That you can have an impossible dream to be Toni Morrison that you have to let go of.That every day you can feel like you might be failing at work or at your home life. That the realworld is hard.

And yet, you can still wake up every single morning and go, “I have three amazing kids and Ihave created work I am proud of, and I absolutely love my life and I would not trade it foranyone else’s life ever.”

You can still wake up one day and find yourself living a life you never even imagined dreamingof.

My dreams did not come true. But I worked really hard. And I ended up building an empire outof my imagination. So my dreams? Can suck it.

You can wake up one day and find that you are interesting and powerful and engaged. You canwake up one day and find that you are a doer.

You can be sitting right where you are now. Looking up at me. Probably―hopefully, I pray foryou―hung over. And then 20 years from now, you can wake up and find yourself in the HanoverInn full of fear and terror because you are going to give the Commencement speech. Drymouth. Heart beats so, so fast. Everything in slow motion. Pass out, die, poop.

Which one of you will it be? Which member of the 20xx class is going to find themselvesstanding up here? Because I checked and it is pretty rare for an alum to speak here. It’s prettymuch just me and Robert Frost and Mr. Rogers, which is crazy awesome.

Which one of you is going to make it up here? I really hope that it’s one of you. Seriously.

When it happens, you’ll know what this feels like.

Dry mouth. Heart beats so, so fast. Everything moves in slow motion.

Graduates, every single one of you, be proud of your accomplishments. Make good on yourdiplomas.

You are no longer students. You are no longer works in progress. You are now citizens of thereal world. You have a responsibility to become a person worthy of joining and contributing tosociety. Because who you are today ... that’s who you are.

So be brave.

Be amazing.

Be worthy.

And every single time you get a chance?

Stand up in front of people.

Let them see you. Speak. Be heard.

Go ahead and have the dry mouth.

Let your heart beat so, so fast.

Watch everything move in slow motion.

So what?

You what?

You pass out, you die, you poop?

No.

And this is really the only lesson you’ll ever need to know...

You take it in.

You breathe this rare air.

You feel alive.

You be yourself.

You truly finally always be yourself.

Thank you. Good luck.

篇3:美国达特茅斯学院留学条件有哪些

美国达特茅斯学院留学条件有哪些

首先来看一下美国达特茅斯学院留学条件:

本科

1.雅思成绩:本科生不低于7.0分

2.科学与艺术研究院:7.0分

3.塔克商学院:7.0分

4.达特茅斯学院(卫生政策与临床实践):接受 分数要求请联系学校;

5.托福成绩:不低于90分。

研究生

1.国内著名高中、大学在读生,毕业生。

2.国内平均成绩90-95以上,或GPA:3.55以上,学校及所在地区TOP10学生。

3.英语成绩,TOFEL:100分/640分以上,SAT:2200分以上,GRE:1400分以上,GMAT:700分以上。

4.国内有艺术特长、体育特长、数学特长等优先考虑。

5.获过相关比赛、国际竞赛等奖项的优先考虑。

6.经济担保每年需要35万人民币。

下面为大家简单的介绍一下美国达特茅斯学院,该校成立于1769年,是美国历史最悠久的世界顶尖学府,坐落于新罕布什尔州的'汉诺佛小镇。依照利扎维洛克牧师当初成立这个学校的目的,是为了培养当地印第安部落的年轻人和年轻白人。本科生入学竞争非常激烈,本科生入学率仅为10.3%。在-US NEWS 全美大学综合排行榜上位列第12位。

篇4:米歇尔・ 在欧柏林学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

米歇尔・ 在欧柏林学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

Hi! How are you all doing? Are you sure?Well, let me just tell you, it is beyond a pleasure and an honor to be here with all of you today.

I want to start by thanking President Krislov for that very kind introduction, as well as all of thetrustees, the faculty, the staff here at Oberlin. I also want to tell you how proud and how movedI am to receive this honorary degree from this particular school – the first college in Americato officially embrace the admission of black students, and the first co-ed school to grantbachelor's degrees to women. (Applause.)

I should be here today. Oberlin is likely the only college in America that I could have attendednearly two centuries ago, and I am honored to be part of the extraordinary legacy of thisgreat institution. (Applause.)

I also want to take a moment on this Memorial Day to pay tribute to all of the brave men andwomen who have sacrificed their lives so that we could sit here today, at peace, with rights andfreedoms that others around the world can only dream of. I am so proud to honor theseAmerican heroes today – and every day – for their extraordinary service to our nation. (Applause.)

And I'm also a little giddy to be joined on stage by another one of my heroes, Marian WrightEdelman. (Applause.) Her moral leadership on behalf of children in this country has inspiredme throughout my career, as well as my husband, the President of the United States. (Applause.)

And, graduates, I think we should give another shout-out to your families, of course, all thefamilies. (Applause.) These are the folks who pushed you and supported you. They answeredyour late-night phone calls even when you were just calling for money. (Laughter.) So on behalfof your students, I just want to show you all some love today, as well. Thank you for creatingthese fabulous individuals. Well done. (Applause.)

And finally, most of all, I want to congratulate the Oberlin Class of 2015! (Applause.) Look atyou! You made it! You're here! You're looking good! (Applause.) And I know you worked hard tomake it to this moment, didn't you? (Laughter.) Staying up late writing those papers, studyingfor exams. Spent hours practicing and performing. You went to countless happy hours, andhappy-happy hours at the Feve I hear – (laughter) – I'm going to try one of those burgers forlunch today; that's all I'm going to have – (laughter) – where of course, parents, that's wherethey studied some more.

And on top of all of that, you spent thousands of hours giving back to this community –tutoring kids, playing music for seniors, serving food to folks in need, and of course, mentoringthe local young people back there – I see you all – through the Ninde Scholars Program. Soproud of you all back there.

And that's, as the President said, why I'm here today. (Applause.) As he mentioned, my officedid this wonderful competition to highlight colleges that are helping underserved youngpeople graduate from high school and then go on to higher education. So by providing tutoringand ACT prep classes, financial aid workshops, and so much more, your Ninde Scholars Programstood out as a shining example of how schools like Oberlin can lift first-generation students intocollege.

篇5:美国联邦参议员陆天娜在瓦萨尔学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

美国联邦参议员陆天娜在瓦萨尔学院毕业典礼英语演讲稿

Thank you to Acting PresidentChenette, my dearest friend and the person who invited meGerry Laybourne, theboard, the faculty at Vassar, all of the proud parents that are here,ouralumnae and our alumni, and all the distinguished guests. And to the VassarClass of – many congratulations.

Vassar truly stands as a beaconof hope and opportunity that continues to inspire all of us.You have shown astrong sense of justice, community, and bold activism. Although I knowthere is always more work tobe done, you have shattered many glass ceilings here...womenhave always beenin leadership …you are advancing LGBT equality and acceptance, and you dohavea campus that’s diverse in more ways than ever before!

The education that you receivehere at Vassar is a precious opportunity, one that tens ofmillions of youngpeople across the world are denied every single day due to poverty,violence,prejudice and injustice.

But I know that someday we canactually change that – with students like you leading theway. Students who stood up to the bigotry of theWestboro Baptist Church. You did not standquietly by. You created a nationalconversation. You raised over $100,000, and you made yourvoice heard, inspiredaction in others, and produced real results.

My hope for this class is thatthis determined courage, this spirit of activism, this fierceopposition tohate will be the rule, not the exception.

So I’ve come here to ask youtoday, each and every one of you, just one question: How areyou going to takethe lessons that you’ve learned here at Vassar, and carry on this legacyofmaking a real difference?

I hope that each one of you findsthe opportunity to do public service, and truly have animpact on the lives ofso many others.

So I want to tell you all alittle bit about my own journey to public service. I was very luckybecause Igrew up in a family that had a very strong role model. The role model wasmygrandmother. She started her career as a young woman…she never went tocollege…sheworked as a secretary in our state legislature in Albany.

She had this very bold idea thatwomen’s voices should be heard. There were very fewwomen in elective office 75years ago. She wanted to have a say, and she wanted to have animpact.

And she knew somethinginstinctively that all of us know now, that to speak in one voice isveryimportant, but to speak along with many voices is far more powerful. She she asked all thewomen in thelegislature and all the women she knew in Upstate New York to get involvedinpolitics.

Together they created anorganization of activism, where these women ran campaigns forabout fiftyyears. They did all the door to door work, all the envelope stuffing, all thekinds ofthings it takes to win modern day campaigns. And that is why they were able to have avoice.They were able to elect peoplewho shared their values, who shared their concerns, and wantedto have the sameimpact on their community that they did.

So what that taught me as a younggirl watching her is that not only do women’s voicesmatter, but what you dowith your time matters. Grassrootsactivism matters. Fighting to make adifference matters.

After I went to college and lawschool, I saw myself working in New York City in a big lawfirm, and I watchedour First Lady, then Hilary Rodham Clinton, go to China.

篇6:Snapchat创始人斯皮格尔在南加州大学毕业典礼英语演讲稿

Snapchat创始人斯皮格尔在南加州大学毕业典礼英语演讲稿

Dean Ellis, honored guests, faculty, family, friends, and the Class of ,

I cannot begin to express my gratitude for your generosity today. Thank you so much forinviting me to join you in celebrating your graduation! Three years ago, I could never havecomprehended such an opportunity. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

About three years ago today, I was right where you are. I was sitting in a folding chair, justlike that one, and I was wearing my cap and gown, waiting to walk on stage. But I wasn'tgraduating. When they shook my hand and took my picture, they handed me an empty folder.You see at Stanford, they let you “walk” through graduation even if you haven't actually finishedthe requirements necessary to get your diploma. You get to pretend that you are graduatingjust like everyone else, even though you aren't. The University had created this program forstudents who were using the summer term to finish up their degrees. I was using it because Iwas embarrassed, and I didn't want to be left out of the celebrations. What was I going to do?Stay in my dorm room while all of my friends processed into the stadium and tossed their capsinto the air without me? So I sat in the hot sun and I listened to Cory Booker talk for what feltlike quite a while, and I waved to my family who had traveled all the way to Stanford to watchme not to graduate. By the way, hi, Mom!

It only recently occurred to me, while preparing this address, how totally absurd this wholecharade was. It reminded me that oftentimes we do all sorts of silly things to avoid appearingdifferent. Conforming happens so naturally that we can forget how powerful it is – we want tobe accepted by our peers – we want to be a part of the group. It's in our biology. But the thingsthat make us human are those times we listen to the whispers of our soul and allow ourselves tobe pulled in another direction. Conformity is so fascinating and so pervasive that it has beenstudied for a very long time. See, it turns out there are two things that can dramatically reduceconformity in a group setting. The first is a single dissenting voice, and the second is theability to communicate privately with other members of the group. Our government gives usthe right to privacy and the right to express ourselves freely in the hope that we mightmitigate conformity. Democracy wasn't designed to promote popular thought. It wasarchitected to protect dissent. For, as President Kennedy said, “Conformity is the jailer offreedom and the enemy of growth.”

I recently fell in love with a story about a great piece of American art. And it's about a guynamed Bob Rauschenberg. He was a young artist, and he went to go visit his idol. You know, hereally loved this guy and he was totally terrified. He was so nervous that he was clutching abottle of Jack Daniels for liquid courage. And the truth is: he actually wasn't just visiting. Hewas visiting Bill de Kooning to ask for something. He wanted one of Bill de Kooning's drawings.You see, Bill de Kooning, he was a dumb guy, he knew exactly what Rauschenberg was up to,because Rauschenberg had recently been experimenting with his own art. He had been creatingthese drawings and then erasing them. But that wasn't enough for Bob Rauschenberg, becauseBob Rauschenberg didn't want to just erase his own art, he wanted to erase the art of hishero. So de Kooning obliged but he took his time, and he tortured the young artist as hewandered around his studio in search of the perfect drawing. He didn't want to just give him arandom drawing. He wanted it to be something really great, something that he really loved.And he finally settled on a drawing that was very, very hard to erase. It was comprised oflayers of lead and charcoal. And he generously gave it to Bob Rauschenberg. According to Bob,it took nearly two months to erase the drawing. But it was Jasper Johns who came along andframed it and he gave that drawing a title, called “Erased de Kooning by Bob Rauschenberg.” Itwas Jasper Johns who recognized that in the process of erasing de Kooning's work, BobRauschenberg had actually created something new, his own new work of art.

篇7:诺贝尔化学奖得主斯特凡・赫尔在颁奖晚宴英语演讲稿

诺贝尔化学奖得主斯特凡・赫尔在颁奖晚宴英语演讲稿

Your Majesties,Your Royal Highnesses,Ladies and Gentlemen,

What a week, what a day, and what a night...!

I cannot imagine anything more exhilarating than to stand here this evening – also on behalf ofmy colleagues W. E. Moerner and Eric Betzig – thanking the Swedish Academy and the NobelFoundation for the honor that has been bestowed upon us. We are so grateful to all who havesupported us on our path and – above all – we feel very, very humbled.

Like all laureates, each of us three has his own road to this magnificent hall. Our personalstories have been quite different.

Yet – we have much in common: passion for what we do, and fascination with things thatcannot be done, or – let’s say – things that cannot be done...supposedly.

Erwin Schrödinger, who spoke at this banquet eighty-one years ago tonight, wrote: “it is fairto state that we are not going to experiment with single particles any more than we will raisedinosaurs in the zoo”.

Well, one of us, W. E., discovered just the opposite – single molecules can indeed be seen andplayed with individually.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, what do we learn from this?

First. Erwin Schrödinger would never have gone on to write “Jurassic Park”...

Second. As a Nobel Laureate you should say “this or that is never going to happen”, becauseyou will increase your chances tremendously – of being remembered – decades later – in aNobel banquet speech.

And so, – on to superresolution fluorescence imaging. According to the belief, molecules closertogether than 200 nanometers could not be told apart with focused light. This is because, in apacked molecular crowd, the molecules shout out their fluorescence simultaneously, causingtheir signal, their voices, to be confused.

But, believe it or not, Eric found a way to discern the molecules by calling on each one ofthem individually, using a microscope so simple – that he built it with a friend – in his livingroom.

As for myself, I never had that kind of patience. Calling on each molecule one by one? Noway. I just told all of them to be quiet – except for a selected few.

Just keep the molecules quiet, and let only a few speak up. ... A simple solution to asupposedly unsolvable problem. It made the resolution limit - history.

Now have a guess, where did this idea occur to me?

Not very far from here, actually: in a student dorm in Finnish Åbo – in what you may kindly call– a living room.

So, what does it take, ladies and gentlemen, to end up standing here, telling you a story ofimportant discoveries or improvements?

Well...You definitely need a living room. At the very least, you need a place to sleep. And whenyou fall asleep you may forget that others consider you – too daring or too foolish.

But when morning comes, you would better find yourself saying: “I have so many choices ofwhat to do or what to leave – every morning, every day. I better judge for myself, and – goahead and do it.”

Because nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come – even if it came in a –living room – or to someone – with a humble living.

And – if you feel we’ll never raise dinosaurs...Who knows? One day someone may be actuallystanding here – giving a banquet speech.

So, let us embrace a culture that addresses problems deemed impossible to solve – and letus now honor those who will do so with a toast.

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