由於新冠流行，耶魯大學2020屆畢業典禮不得不改為線上進行，校長演講、優秀學生代表演講、節目匯演等環節均通過線上直播方式進行。
而本屆畢業典禮中，華裔學生Joy Qiu經過層層選拔，被推舉為學生代表發言，也是首位華裔女性在耶魯畢業典禮上發言。
Joy Qiu：
畢業於著名的伊州數理高中IMSA，進入耶魯大學數學系並以優異成績畢業，同時獲得教育研究證書。她是Summa Cum Laude榮譽生，在校期間擔任華裔學生會主席。
大三參加社團活動時，竟然發現有人不知道AACC（亞裔美國人文化中心），於是我開始思考，什麼才是耶魯大學的精髓？
Joy在演講中進行了深刻的反思，並通過對自己華裔身份的重新認識，讓我們看到美國華裔二代覺醒和進取的力量。
2020屆畢業生們，大家好！
我們正以一種不曾預想到的方式在本周畢業。新冠肺炎疫情的爆發使我們來不及收拾行李，未能做最後的含淚告別，更無法在萬眾矚目下登上禮臺，接過畢業證書。但是在接下來的六天時間裡，我們無疑將正式成為耶魯大學歷史中的一部分，身份也將由在校生轉變為耶魯本科學院2020屆畢業生。在這前所未有的時刻，當我們完全失去了所珍視的傳統畢業典禮，那畢業真正意味著什麼呢？
對於2020屆學生而言，疫情比所見的形式上更多樣地顛倒了我們的生活。它瓦解了我們對於畢業季歡欣鼓舞又苦樂參半的期望，它消除了我們習以為常的連續性與穩定感。對我們許多人來說，疫情將不確定性、艱難和悲劇帶入了我們的生活中。
我並不想淡化局勢的嚴重性，新冠疫情的確偷走了我在耶魯十六分之一的時光，多多少少讓我們的大學歲月並不完美。但是，最後這幾周並沒有從根本上改變耶魯大學對我們的意義，也未曾撼動過去四年耶魯生活對我們的影響。
耶魯到底意味著什麼？這個問題，我們現在比以往任何時候都需要去反思和探索。成為耶魯人意味著什麼？是什麼把我們聯繫在一起？除了不願分離的情感因素之外，什麼讓我們所有人產生共鳴？
我的答案是什麼？可能和你想像的不同。誠然，我們都是人類，如今受過高等教育並享有特權。但是除了過去四年我們生活在同一空間之外，我們很難找到一種統一或者類似的理念形容什麼才是本質上的「耶魯」。
讓我告訴你有關AACC（亞裔美國人文化中心）的故事。在這裡我遇到了最好的朋友；我花了無數的時間為華裔學生協會策劃活動。在火鍋之夜和農曆舞會上，寫書法、吃糯米飯，我找到了全新的方式彰顯自己的華裔身份。毫無疑問，AACC一直是我在耶魯的經歷中最不可或缺的部分之一。
三年級臨近結束的時候，我和你們中的許多人一樣，決定加入一個高年級社團。按照慣例，我們所有人圍成一圈，彼此分享隱私話題。我選擇談論AACC及其對我的意義。那天晚上，我第一次遇到一個不知何謂AACC的人，這令我頓時無語。我異常驚訝，這個活力四射的成熟社團，對我個人而言意義非凡，可對他和其他耶魯人來說卻聞所未聞。真的，對我來說，如果沒有AACC，耶魯將不是耶魯。
從那時起，我開始懷疑耶魯是不是一個統一融合的耶魯。我對耶魯的概念是基於我的個人體驗，就像我的朋友不知道AACC一樣，我也不了解耶魯大學中那些為明年成為職業運動員而刻苦訓練的人；那些住得離校園足夠近，可以在周中開車回家吃頓晚餐的人；或者那些幾乎每天都要到哈克尼斯塔裡的佛教寺廟冥想的人。
甚至我們使用的詞語也能讓人產生不同的聯想：說起「Foot」這個詞，你想到是「英尺」還是「阿巴拉契步道」？當你聽到「Zoo」時，腦海中閃現出「免費列印」嗎？當我說起「AACC」時，你是否想到「家」的概念？這樣的現實使我對耶魯人擁有不同的人生軌跡充滿感恩之情。也正是這一點讓我發覺，我們真的能共享某些事或任何事情嗎？這顯得有些虛幻。
也許我很難讓你相信，畢竟想像一下一起周而復始通過Zoom上網課的朋友和同學們，我們的生活交匯點和共享經驗是如此鮮活和真實，對此我毫不懷疑。
與你同住的大約有10個人；你可以通過課外活動認識50或100個朋友；在課堂上、健身房裡或食堂排隊打飯時會遇到數百人……
但實際上，在2020屆學生中，幾乎有上千人我從未有幸與之交談。無論耶魯對我意味著什麼，也無論我住過什麼地方，你們在耶魯都有一些我可能無法想像的經歷。當然，成為耶魯人有特別的意義：意味著你在今後15年中遇到耶魯校友時，可以爭論哪所是最好的住宿學院，並調侃用Zoom上大學；你可以回想起哈佛—耶魯的撤資抗議或是你最喜歡的GHeav三明治；又或者是斯特林圖書館在冬季初雪時的美好景象。但除了參與過這些耶魯傳統，共享其中一些表層記憶外，我們在耶魯的生活經歷其實差異巨大。人們誤認為有一些核心品質將耶魯人團結在一起，事實上並沒有。
我這樣的說法似乎令人沮喪，但並非如此。相反，這個角度反而令人為之一振。因為假如不是我們各不相同，難道是耶魯大學的四年生活將我們錘鍊成難分彼此、千篇一律的人嗎？ 作為一所大學，耶魯向我們展示了「美好生活」中值得我們重視的品質，諸如：聲望、卓越的學術、效率、專業上的成功、批判性思維和公民話語權等。
這些全都是優秀品質。但是，如果我們所有人在耶魯的旅程中只是像海綿一樣吸收這些技能、價值觀和個性特徵，那就變得非常可怕。當我們相聚別處時，我們已經失去了曾經的自己而都變成了擁有耶魯經典主流價值觀的同類人，以至於我此刻站在這裡，可能發表著關於如何團結一致的主題演講。
令人興奮的是，我們的與眾不同遠勝於團結統一，因為這意味著我們在過去共享的空間中做出了各自有意識的選擇。
更具體地講，我想請你花些時間思考一下我們剛剛踏進校園時的情境，這是我們生命中最確定，也最不確定的時刻之一。我們對耶魯滿心歡喜，滿懷憧憬，總有新鮮事物想要去嘗試，總有雄心壯志又激情四射，總充滿希望卻又有時心生恐懼。我們帶著各自建立好的信仰體系和身份認同來到耶魯大學。
今天站在這裡，我可以告訴你，當初有些願望我並未實現。我做過令自己感到驚訝的事，也擁有令人難以置信的經歷，我結交了朋友並留下寶貴的回憶，即便有人用全世界與我交換，我也不願意。就我個人而言，我與四年前已經不是同一個人。也許這顯而易見，但這是最值得反思的事情。大學生活保留了你的哪些特質，又改變了哪些？
因為耶魯，我更多地接觸到自己的傳承，我不會因為他人的評判而對自己的喜好產生畏懼；我更清楚自己在哪些冒險中獲得滿足。今天站在這裡，因為耶魯大學和其賦予我的經歷，使我的身份和價值觀得到了放大、挑戰、改變和豐富。我相信對我們所有人而言都是如此。
耶魯大學給我們的不僅僅是獲得一系列傳統和特權的機會，以及「耶魯人」一詞的稱號，更是使我們有機會找到一個更完整，更真實的自己。無論你花多長時間才感覺到耶魯像家，也無論你是花整晚在Bass圖書館讀書，還是在Toads跳舞亦或是在Stiles F41中大笑至兩頰生痛，這都是我們在這所學校裡通過自己的選擇而獲得的經歷，這些經歷從根本上改變我們是誰，卻又使我們保留初心。
那麼我的結論是什麼呢？我無權站在這裡概括我們的集體經歷，因為它們是如此不同，希望它們都是我們自己選擇之後有意義的探索。當這些經歷嘗試去改變我們，希望我們都能奮鬥成為更好的自己，擁有更強大的信念和各自珍視的價值觀。當15年後，這場疫情已經離我們遠去，你又回想起光明的大學歲月時，你將不僅為成為耶魯人感到驕傲，而是為耶魯塑造你成為那樣的人感到自豪。
演講原文
Hi, Class of 2020. We’re graduating this week. Not in a way that we ever expected, but we are graduating nonetheless.
There will be no frantic packing of bags; there will be no final, tearful goodbyes; no one is going to walk across any stage. But in 6 days』 time we will nonetheless officially become part of Yale’s history, trading in our identities as current students to emerge as graduates of the Yale College Class of 2020. In these unprecedented times, in the complete absence of traditions we hold dear, what does it really mean to graduate?
In more ways than just physically, COVID-19 has uprooted our Class. It disintegrated our expectations for a joyous and bittersweet Senior Spring. It dissolved a sense of constancy and stability that we never knew we were taking for granted. For many of us, this pandemic has introduced uncertainty, hardship, and tragedy into our lives.
Without diminishing the gravity of the situation, I find comfort in the fact that my time at Yale means more than the 1/16th that coronavirus stole. It’s hard not to let the ending color the journey. But these last few weeks cannot and should not fundamentally change what Yale means to us, and what it has meant to us for the better part of the past 4 years.
And what exactly does Yale mean? The onus is on us, now more than ever, to reflect and find what matters. What does it mean to be a Yalie? What brings our class together? Beyond the emotional bond forged from the pain of loss, what do we all share?
My answer? Not as much as you might think. Admittedly, we’re all human, and now more educated and privileged, but beyond occupying the same physical space for almost four years, the idea that we’re unified or similar in some fundamentally 「Yale」 way is a myth.
Let me tell you a story about the AACC, the Asian American Cultural Center. It’s the place I met my very best friends, where I spent countless hours planning events for the Chinese American Students Association. It’s the place I found new ways to celebrate my identity, at Hotpot Night and Lunar Ball, writing calligraphy and eating sticky rice. Without a doubt, the AACC has been one of the most integral parts of my Yale experience.
At the end of my junior year, I, like many of you, decided to join a senior society. As is customary, we all gathered in a circle at initiation to share intimate parts of our lives with each other. I chose to talk about the AACC and everything that it’s meant to me. And that night, for the very first time, I met someone who didn’t know what the AACC was.For a moment, I was speechless. Amazed that this vibrant and formative community, so personal to me, could be completely foreign to him--and to any Yalie, really, because to me, Yale isn’t Yale without the AACC.
That’s when I began to question the idea of a cohesive and unified Yale. My conception of Yale is just that--it’s mine. And just as my friend didn’t know what the AACC was, I had no idea what Yale looks like for someone training to become a professional athlete next year, for someone who lives close enough to drive home for a weekday dinner, or for someone who meditates almost every day in the Buddhist shrine inside Harkness Tower.
And even the words we use: Does 「Foot」 bring to mind inches, or the Appalachian Trail? When you hear 「zoo,」 do you think 「free printing」? And when I say 「AACC,」 do you think 「home」?It’s realizations like these that make me fully appreciate the different lives that people here lead. And it’s these realizations that convince me: believing we could all share something, anything, real? That has to be a myth.
Maybe it’s hard to believe me when I say that, because if you picture the friends and classmates you』ve been Zooming week in and week out and think about the intersections of your lives, your shared experiences will feel so salient and so real. I don’t doubt that.
There’s the 10 or so people you』ve lived with. The 50 or 100 friends you』ve met through extracurriculars. The hundreds more you』ve met in class, in the gym, waiting in line at the dining hall…
But the truth is, there are almost a thousand of you in the Class of 2020 that I』ve never had the pleasure of exchanging a single word with. And whatever Yale means to me, whatever spaces I』ve inhabited, there are parts of your Yale experiences that I can’t possibly begin to conceive of. Sure, it means something to be a Yalie. It means that in 15 years when you encounter someone who also went to Yale, you can squabble over the best residential college and laugh about Zoom University; you can reminisce about the divestment protests at Harvard-Yale or your favorite GHeav sandwich or how pretty Sterling looks at winter’s first snowfall. But the truth is, aside from participating in these same Yale traditions and sharing in some of these surface-level memories, our lived experiences at Yale are so wildly different that it would be a bit misguided to believe there is some core quality about being a Yalie that unites us all. The truth is, there isn’t.
This may seem depressing. But it’s not. This perspective is actually kind of uplifting. Because the alternative to believing that we share nothing in common would be to believe that Yale is so seductive that 4 years here is enough to hammer part of our identities into shapes completely indistinguishable from each other.As an institution, Yale sells us a version of the 「Good Life」—things that we should value. Things like: Prestige. Academic excellence. Productivity. Professional success. Critical thinking and civil discourse.
These can all be good things; they can. But it would be so, so horrible if we all journeyed through Yale like sponges, absorbing these skills and values and personality traits so that when we emerge on the other end, we』ve lost the fibers of who we once were and are similar enough--so saturated with things that are classically mainstream Yale--that I could stand up here and give a speech about what unites us all.
It’s uplifting to believe that there’s infinitely more that distinguishes than unites us, because it means that we made conscious choices in occupying the spaces that we did.
To put this more concretely, I want you to take a moment and think about who we were as prefrosh: Probably excited, and also hopeful, at one of the most certain and also uncertain points of our lives. As prefrosh, we had a certain set of expectations for what Yale would be like. We had new things we wanted to try, we had ambitions and passions, we had hopes and fears. We came to Yale with an established belief system and identity.
Standing here today, I can tell you that I failed to meet some of my expectations. I did things that surprised myself. I had incredible experiences, and made friends and memories I wouldn’t trade for the world. But the thing that feels most personal to tell is that I’m not the same person that I was four years ago. Maybe that’s obvious—because it is obvious—but it’s also the most important thing to reflect on. What’s stayed since you were a prefrosh, and what hasn’t?
Because of Yale, I am more in touch with my heritage. I am less afraid of being judged for what I like and don’t like. I know better what adventures I』d find fulfilling. Standing here today, my identity and values have been amplified, and challenged, and altered, and enriched because of Yale and the experiences I had. I believe that the same is true for all of us.
Yale gave us more than just access to a set of traditions and privilege, a claim to the term 「Yalie.」 Yale gave us the opportunity to find a fuller, more authentic version of ourselves. No matter how long it took for Yale to feel like home, whether you spent your nights p-setting in Bass, dancing in Toads, or laughing until your sides hurt in Stiles F41, the chosen and eclectic experiences we』ve had at this institution have fundamentally changed who we are, without compromising who we are.
So what’s the point? I have no right to stand here and generalize about all of our collective experiences, because they were all different. Hopefully they were experiences we pursued with intention, that we had the agency to choose. And as those experiences tried to change us, hopefully we fought to become better versions of ourselves, with greater conviction in who we are and what we value. So in fifteen years, when this pandemic is far behind us and you’re thinking back to your bright college years, don’t just be proud to be a Yalie. Be proud of the person that Yale shaped you to become.