畢業典禮歷來是大學生涯中的華彩樂章，能代表所有應屆畢業生上臺演講是無比榮耀的事。經過層層選拔，耶魯大學2020屆畢業典禮，華裔學生Joy Qiu不負眾望被推舉為學生代表發言。
畢業於著名的伊州數理高中IMSA，Joy Qiu 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。
什麼是耶魯大學的精髓？Joy在演講中進行了深刻的反思。令人欣喜的是，她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。
由於瘟疫大流行，耶魯大學2020屆畢業典禮不得不改為網上進行。
2020屆畢業生們，大家好！我們將於本周畢業，以一種誰也不曾預想到的方式。三月疫情爆發校園關閉，我們不得不倉促離校。來不及收拾行李；未能做最後含淚的告別；更無法穿上畢業禮服，在萬眾矚目中穿過禮臺，接受畢業文憑。但是在接下來短短的六天時間內，我們將正式成為耶魯大學歷史的一部分，身份將由在讀生轉變成2020屆耶魯畢業生。在這前所未有的時代，失去了我們所珍視的傳統畢業儀式，那畢業到底還有什麼意義呢？
COVID-19不僅在實際形式上、還通過多種方式把我們班級連根拔起。它瓦解了我們對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和穩定感。對我們許多人來說，這場大瘟疫將動蕩、困苦和悲劇帶進了我們的生活中。
我並不想淡化局勢的嚴重性，但令人欣慰的是，雖然冠狀病毒偷竊了我在耶魯大學十六分之一的時光，雖然大學結束過程變幻莫測，但我在耶魯的收穫卻豐豐盛盛，最後幾周不能也不應根本改變耶魯大學對我們的影響，以及過去四年中大部分時間對我們的意義。
耶魯到底意味著什麼？我們現在比以往任何時候都有責任去反思和探索。成為耶魯人意味著什麼？是什麼使我們的班級聯繫在一起？失去傳統畢業儀式，使我們痛苦不堪、惺惺相惜。除此之外，還有什麼讓我們產生共鳴？
我的答案？沒你想的那麼複雜。誠然，我們都是人類，現在受過高等教育並享有特權，但是除了過去四年佔據相同的物理空間之外，試圖將我們以某種基本的「耶魯」方式統一或類化簡直就是天方夜譚。
亮點
耶魯到底意味著什麼？我們現在比以往任何時候都有責任去反思和探索。成為耶魯人意味著什麼？是什麼使我們的班級聯繫在一起？
讓我告訴您有關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美籍華裔學生協會策劃活動。在火鍋之夜和農曆舞會上，我寫書法、吃糯米飯，以全新方式來慶祝自己的華裔身份。毫無疑問，AACC一直是我耶魯經歷中最不可或缺的部分。
三年級臨近結束的時候，我和你們中的許多人一樣，決定加入一個畢業班社團。按照慣例，開始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，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，可對他和任何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，我開始質疑凝聚和統一耶魯的想法。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是什麼一樣，我也不了解耶魯大學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，可以周間開車回家吃頓晚餐的人；或者那些幾乎每天都到Harkness Tower裡的佛教寺廟冥想的人。
即便我們使用的詞語也能讓人產生不同的聯想：說起「Foot」這個詞，您想到是「英尺」還是「阿巴拉契步道」？聽到「Zoo」時，腦海中閃現出「免費列印」嗎？當我說起「AACC」時，您是否想到「家」？
這樣的認知使我對耶魯人不同的人生軌跡充滿感恩。正是認識到這一點讓我頓悟：我們共同擁有某些特性或能分享任何事情的想法顯得有些天真。
也許我很難讓您信服，因為如果描繪那些一起周而復始通過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，我對此毫不懷疑。與您同住的大約有10個人；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遇到數百人……
但實際上，在2020屆學生中，幾乎有上千人我從未榮幸地說上一句話。無論耶魯對我意味著什麼，也無論我住過什麼地方，您在耶魯的經歷中都有一些我可能無法想像的。當然，成為耶魯人有特別的意義：這意味著您在今後15年中遇到耶魯校友時，可以爭論哪所是最好的住宿學院，並嘲笑Zoom大學；您可以回想一下哈佛-耶魯的撤資抗議或您最喜歡的GHeav三明治；又或者是斯特林圖書館在冬天初雪時如何漂亮。但除了參與這些相同的耶魯傳統並能分享其中的一些表層記憶外，我們在耶魯的生活經歷有如此巨大的差異。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，這種觀點令人為之一振。因為假如不是我們缺乏共同點，難道，耶魯大學如此誘人，在這裡呆了4年足以將我們錘鍊成不分彼此、千篇一律嗎？
作為一所大學，耶魯向我們展示了「美好生活」的版本，彌足珍貴。諸如：聲望、學術卓越、效率、專業成功、批判性思維和公民話語權等。
亮點
人們誤認為有一些核心品質將耶魯人團結在一起，事實上沒有。我這樣的說法似乎令人沮喪，但並非如此。相反，這種觀點令人為之一振。
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變成了相似的人——充滿了耶魯經典的主流價值觀——我可以站在這裡，發表關於如何團結大家的演講。
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有的時空中做出了有意識的選擇。
更具體地講，我想請您花些時間思考一下我們剛剛踏進校園時的景況，這是我們生命中最確定，也最不確定的時刻之一。我們對耶魯滿懷憧憬；我們迫不及待地想要嘗試新鮮事物；我們雄心勃勃而又激情四射；我們充滿希望有時卻心生恐懼。我們帶著已建立的身份認同和信仰體系來到耶魯大學。 今天站在這裡，我可以告訴您，有些願望沒能實現。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難忘的回憶，即便有人用全世界來交換我也不情願。說一個私人話題，我與四年前不是同一個人。也許這顯而易見，因為很明顯，但它是最值得反思的事情。上大學之前的什麼被保留了下來，又有什麼改變了？ 在耶魯大學，我更多地接觸到自己的傳承；我不懼怕別人論斷我喜歡或不喜歡的事；我更清楚自己會如何冒險。今天站在這裡，耶魯大學賦予我的經歷，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來說也是如此。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。無論花多長時間才感覺到耶魯像家，也無論花整晚是在Bass圖書館讀書，或是在Toads跳舞亦或是在Stiles F41中大笑至兩頰生痛為止，這都是我們在這所學校裡通過選擇得到的充滿魔力的體驗，從根本上改變我們，卻又使我們保持初心。 結論是什麼？我無權站在這裡概括我們的集體經驗，因為它們如此不同。希望那都是經由選擇的有意義的探索。當過往經歷磨礪我們時，希望我們每一個人力爭成為更好版本的自己，堅定信念、珍視價值觀。15年後，當這場大瘟疫遠遠拋在我們腦後，而您又回想起光明的大學歲月時，就不僅僅為成為耶魯人感到自豪，而是為耶魯塑造您成為的人感到自豪。
亮點
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。
英文原文：
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.