English 12a Final Essay Sources
Provide one important quote from each one of the following presenters...explain the meaning of the quote you selected in your own words...then, follow up your explanation with a reason why the quote you selected is important...In other words, why was this quote important to our, "Value of Life Unit." Then, continue with the same process for daily journaling, the business writing unit, and our reading of the book, Into The Wild by Jon Krackauer.
How to cite a TED Talk in MLA format.
Cite the TED Talk as a lecture--here is a model for such a citation:
Cain, Susan. "The Power of Introverts." TED. Feb. 2012. Lecture.
Cite the TED Talk as a lecture--here is a model for such a citation:
Cain, Susan. "The Power of Introverts." TED. Feb. 2012. Lecture.
Here's the script:
Can any of you remember what you wanted to be when you were 17? Do you know what I wanted to be? I wanted to be a biker chick. (Laughter) I wanted to race cars, and I wanted to be a cowgirl, and I wanted to be Mowgli from "The Jungle Book." Because they were all about being free, the wind in your hair -- just to be free. And on my seventeenth birthday, my parents, knowing how much I loved speed, gave me one driving lesson for my seventeenth birthday. Not that we could have afforded I drive, but to give me the dream of driving.
00:53 And on my seventeenth birthday, I accompanied my little sister in complete innocence, as I always had all my life -- my visually impaired sister -- to go to see an eye specialist. Because big sisters are always supposed to support their little sisters. And my little sister wanted to be a pilot -- God help her. So I used to get my eyes tested just for fun. And on my seventeenth birthday, after my fake eye exam, the eye specialist just noticed it happened to be my birthday. And he said, "So what are you going to do to celebrate?" And I took that driving lesson, and I said, "I'm going to learn how to drive." And then there was a silence -- one of those awful silences when you know something's wrong. And he turned to my mother, and he said, "You haven't told her yet?" On my seventeenth birthday, as Janis Ian would best say, I learned the truth at 17. I am, and have been since birth, legally blind.
02:10 And you know, how on earth did I get to 17 and not know that? Well, if anybody says country music isn't powerful, let me tell you this: I got there because my father's passion for Johnny Cash and a song, "A Boy Named Sue." I'm the eldest of three. I was born in 1971. And very shortly after my birth, my parents found out I had a condition called ocular albinism. And what the hell does that mean to you? So let me just tell you, the great part of all of this? I can't see this clock and I can't see the timing, so holy God, woohoo! (Laughter) I might buy some more time. But more importantly, let me tell you -- I'm going to come up really close here. Don't freak out, Pat. Hey. See this hand? Beyond this hand is a world of Vaseline. Every man in this room, even you, Steve, is George Clooney. (Laughter) And every woman, you are so beautiful. And when I want to look beautiful, I step three feet away from the mirror, and I don't have to see these lines etched in my face from all the squinting I've done all my life from all the dark lights.
03:23 The really strange part is that, at three and a half, just before I was going to school, my parents made a bizarre, unusual and incredibly brave decision. No special needs schools. No labels. No limitations. My ability and my potential. And they decided to tell me that I could see. So just like Johnny Cash's Sue, a boy given a girl's name, I would grow up and learn from experience how to be tough and how to survive, when they were no longer there to protect me, or just take it all away. But more significantly, they gave me the ability to believe, totally, to believe that I could. And so when I heard that eye specialist tell me all the things, a big fat "no," everybody imagines I was devastated. And don't get me wrong, because when I first heard it -- aside from the fact that I thought he was insane -- I got that thump in my chest, just that "huh?" But very quickly I recovered. It was like that. The first thing I thought about was my mom, who was crying over beside me. And I swear to God, I walked out of his office, "I will drive. I will drive. You're mad. I'll drive. I know I can drive."
04:49 And with the same dogged determination that my father had bred into me since I was such a child -- he taught me how to sail, knowing I could never see where I was going, I could never see the shore, and I couldn't see the sails, and I couldn't see the destination. But he told me to believe and feel the wind in my face. And that wind in my face made me believe that he was mad and I would drive. And for the next 11 years, I swore nobody would ever find out that I couldn't see, because I didn't want to be a failure, and I didn't want to be weak. And I believed I could do it. So I rammed through life as only a Casey can do. And I was an archeologist, and then I broke things. And then I managed a restaurant, and then I slipped on things. And then I was a masseuse. And then I was a landscape gardener. And then I went to business school. And you know, disabled people are hugely educated. And then I went in and I got a global consulting job with Accenture. And they didn't even know. And it's extraordinary how far belief can take you.
05:47 In 1999, two and a half years into that job, something happened. Wonderfully, my eyes decided, enough. And temporarily, very unexpectedly, they dropped. And I'm in one of the most competitive environments in the world, where you work hard, play hard, you gotta be the best, you gotta be the best. And two years in, I really could see very little. And I found myself in front of an HR manager in 1999, saying something I never imagined that I would say. I was 28 years old. I had built a persona all around what I could and couldn't do. And I simply said, "I'm sorry. I can't see, and I need help." Asking for help can be incredibly difficult. And you all know what it is. You don't need to have a disability to know that. We all know how hard it is to admit weakness and failure. And it's frightening, isn't it? But all that belief had fueled me so long.
06:54 And can I tell you, operating in the sighted world when you can't see, it's kind of difficult -- it really is. Can I tell you, airports are a disaster. Oh, for the love of God. And please, any designers out there? OK, designers, please put up your hands, even though I can't even see you. I always end up in the gents' toilets. And there's nothing wrong with my sense of smell. But can I just tell you, the little sign for a gents' toilet or a ladies' toilet is determined by a triangle. Have you ever tried to see that if you have Vaseline in front of your eyes? It's such a small thing, right? And you know how exhausting it can be to try to be perfect when you're not, or to be somebody that you aren't?
07:37 And so after admitting I couldn't see to HR, they sent me off to an eye specialist. And I had no idea that this man was going to change my life. But before I got to him, I was so lost. I had no idea who I was anymore. And that eye specialist, he didn't bother testing my eyes. God no, it was therapy. And he asked me several questions, of which many were, "Why? Why are you fighting so hard not to be yourself? And do you love what you do, Caroline?" And you know, when you go to a global consulting firm, they put a chip in your head, and you're like, "I love Accenture. I love Accenture. I love my job. I love Accenture. I love Accenture. I love Accenture. I love my job. I love Accenture." (Laughter) To leave would be failure. And he said, "Do you love it?" I couldn't even speak I was so choked up. I just was so -- how do I tell him? And then he said to me, "What did you want to be when you were little?" Now listen, I wasn't going to say to him, "Well, I wanted to race cars and motorbikes." Hardly appropriate at this moment in time. He thought I was mad enough anyway. And as I left his office, he called me back and he said, "I think it's time. I think it's time to stop fighting and do something different." And that door closed. And that silence just outside a doctor's office, that many of us know. And my chest ached. And I had no idea where I was going. I had no idea. But I did know the game was up.
08:57 And I went home, and, because the pain in my chest ached so much, I thought, "I'll go out for a run." Really not a very sensible thing to do. And I went on a run that I know so well. I know this run so well, by the back of my hand. I always run it perfectly fine. I count the steps and the lampposts and all those things that visually impaired people have a tendency to have a lot of meetings with. And there was a rock that I always missed. And I'd never fallen on it, never. And there I was crying away, and smash, bash on my rock. Broken, fallen over on this rock in the middle of March in 2000, typical Irish weather on a Wednesday -- gray, snot, tears everywhere, ridiculously self-pitying.
09:36 And I was floored, and I was broken, and I was angry. And I didn't know what to do. And I sat there for quite some time going, "How am I going to get off this rock and go home? Because who am I going to be? What am I going to be?" And I thought about my dad, and I thought, "Good God, I'm so not Sue now." And I kept thinking over and over in my mind, what had happened? Where did it go wrong? Why didn't I understand? And you know, the extraordinary part of it is I just simply had no answers. I had lost my belief. Look where my belief had brought me to. And now I had lost it. And now I really couldn't see. I was crumpled. And then I remember thinking about that eye specialist asking me, "What do you want to be? What do you want to be? What did you want to be when you were little? Do you love what you do? Do something different. What do you want to be? Do something different. What do you want to be?" And really slowly, slowly, slowly, it happened. And it did happen this way. And then the minute it came, it blew up in my head and bashed in my heart -- something different. "Well, how about Mowgli from 'The Jungle Book'? You don't get more different than that." And the moment, and I mean the moment, the moment that hit me, I swear to God, it was like woo hoo! You know -- something to believe in. And nobody can tell me no. Yes, you can say I can't be an archeologist. But you can't tell me, no, I can't be Mowgli, because guess what? Nobody's ever done it before, so I'm going to go do it. And it doesn't matter whether I'm a boy or a girl, I'm just going to scoot.
11:09 And so I got off that rock, and, oh my God, did I run home. And I sprinted home, and I didn't fall, and I didn't crash. And I ran up the stairs, and there was one of my favorite books of all time, "Travels on My Elephant" by Mark Shand -- I don't know if any of you know it. And I grabbed this book off, and I'm sitting on the couch going, "I know what I'm going to do. I know how to be Mowgli. I'm going to go across India on the back of an elephant. I'm going to be an elephant handler." And I had no idea how I was going to be an elephant handler. From global management consultant to elephant handler. I had no idea how. I had no idea how you hire an elephant, get an elephant. I didn't speak Hindi. I'd never been to India. Hadn't a clue. But I knew I would. Because, when you make a decision at the right time and the right place, God, that universe makes it happen for you.
11:55 Nine months later, after that day on snot rock, I had the only blind date in my life with a seven and a half foot elephant called Kanchi. And together we would trek a thousand kilometers across India. (Applause) The most powerful thing of all, it's not that I didn't achieve before then. Oh my God, I did. But you know, I was believing in the wrong thing. Because I wasn't believing in me, really me, all the bits of me -- all the bits of all of us. Do you know how much of us all pretend to be somebody we're not? And you know what, when you really believe in yourself and everything about you, it's extraordinary what happens.
12:31 And you know what, that trip, that thousand kilometers, it raised enough money for 6,000 cataract eye operations. Six thousand people got to see because of that. When I came home off that elephant, do you know what the most amazing part was? I chucked in my job at Accenture. I left, and I became a social entrepreneur, and I set up an organization with Mark Shand called Elephant Family, which deals with Asian elephant conservation. And I set up Kanchi, because my organization was always going to be named after my elephant, because disability is like the elephant in the room. And I wanted to make you see it in a positive way -- no charity, no pity. But I wanted to work only and truly with business and media leadership to totally reframe disability in a way that was exciting and possible. It was extraordinary. That's what I wanted to do. And I never thought about noes anymore, or not seeing, or any of that kind of nothing. It just seemed that it was possible.
13:24 And you know, the oddest part is, when I was on my way traveling here to TED, I'll be honest, I was petrified. And I speak, but this is an amazing audience, and what am I doing here? But as I was traveling here, you'll be very happy to know, I did use my white symbol stick cane, because it's really good to skip queues in the airport. And I got my way here being happily proud that I couldn't see. And the one thing is that a really good friend of mine, he texted me on the way over, knowing I was scared. Even though I present confident, I was scared. He said, "Be you." And so here I am. This is me, all of me.
14:07 (Applause)
14:15 And I have learned, you know what, cars and motorbikes and elephants, that's not freedom. Being absolutely true to yourself is freedom. And I never needed eyes to see -- never. I simply needed vision and belief. And if you truly believe -- and I mean believe from the bottom of your heart -- you can make change happen. And we need to make it happen, because every single one of us -- woman, man, gay, straight, disabled, perfect, normal, whatever -- everyone of us must be the very best of ourselves. I no longer want anybody to be invisible. We all have to be included. And stop with the labels, the limiting. Losing of labels, because we are not jam jars. We are extraordinary, different, wonderful people.
15:06 Thank you.
Can any of you remember what you wanted to be when you were 17? Do you know what I wanted to be? I wanted to be a biker chick. (Laughter) I wanted to race cars, and I wanted to be a cowgirl, and I wanted to be Mowgli from "The Jungle Book." Because they were all about being free, the wind in your hair -- just to be free. And on my seventeenth birthday, my parents, knowing how much I loved speed, gave me one driving lesson for my seventeenth birthday. Not that we could have afforded I drive, but to give me the dream of driving.
00:53 And on my seventeenth birthday, I accompanied my little sister in complete innocence, as I always had all my life -- my visually impaired sister -- to go to see an eye specialist. Because big sisters are always supposed to support their little sisters. And my little sister wanted to be a pilot -- God help her. So I used to get my eyes tested just for fun. And on my seventeenth birthday, after my fake eye exam, the eye specialist just noticed it happened to be my birthday. And he said, "So what are you going to do to celebrate?" And I took that driving lesson, and I said, "I'm going to learn how to drive." And then there was a silence -- one of those awful silences when you know something's wrong. And he turned to my mother, and he said, "You haven't told her yet?" On my seventeenth birthday, as Janis Ian would best say, I learned the truth at 17. I am, and have been since birth, legally blind.
02:10 And you know, how on earth did I get to 17 and not know that? Well, if anybody says country music isn't powerful, let me tell you this: I got there because my father's passion for Johnny Cash and a song, "A Boy Named Sue." I'm the eldest of three. I was born in 1971. And very shortly after my birth, my parents found out I had a condition called ocular albinism. And what the hell does that mean to you? So let me just tell you, the great part of all of this? I can't see this clock and I can't see the timing, so holy God, woohoo! (Laughter) I might buy some more time. But more importantly, let me tell you -- I'm going to come up really close here. Don't freak out, Pat. Hey. See this hand? Beyond this hand is a world of Vaseline. Every man in this room, even you, Steve, is George Clooney. (Laughter) And every woman, you are so beautiful. And when I want to look beautiful, I step three feet away from the mirror, and I don't have to see these lines etched in my face from all the squinting I've done all my life from all the dark lights.
03:23 The really strange part is that, at three and a half, just before I was going to school, my parents made a bizarre, unusual and incredibly brave decision. No special needs schools. No labels. No limitations. My ability and my potential. And they decided to tell me that I could see. So just like Johnny Cash's Sue, a boy given a girl's name, I would grow up and learn from experience how to be tough and how to survive, when they were no longer there to protect me, or just take it all away. But more significantly, they gave me the ability to believe, totally, to believe that I could. And so when I heard that eye specialist tell me all the things, a big fat "no," everybody imagines I was devastated. And don't get me wrong, because when I first heard it -- aside from the fact that I thought he was insane -- I got that thump in my chest, just that "huh?" But very quickly I recovered. It was like that. The first thing I thought about was my mom, who was crying over beside me. And I swear to God, I walked out of his office, "I will drive. I will drive. You're mad. I'll drive. I know I can drive."
04:49 And with the same dogged determination that my father had bred into me since I was such a child -- he taught me how to sail, knowing I could never see where I was going, I could never see the shore, and I couldn't see the sails, and I couldn't see the destination. But he told me to believe and feel the wind in my face. And that wind in my face made me believe that he was mad and I would drive. And for the next 11 years, I swore nobody would ever find out that I couldn't see, because I didn't want to be a failure, and I didn't want to be weak. And I believed I could do it. So I rammed through life as only a Casey can do. And I was an archeologist, and then I broke things. And then I managed a restaurant, and then I slipped on things. And then I was a masseuse. And then I was a landscape gardener. And then I went to business school. And you know, disabled people are hugely educated. And then I went in and I got a global consulting job with Accenture. And they didn't even know. And it's extraordinary how far belief can take you.
05:47 In 1999, two and a half years into that job, something happened. Wonderfully, my eyes decided, enough. And temporarily, very unexpectedly, they dropped. And I'm in one of the most competitive environments in the world, where you work hard, play hard, you gotta be the best, you gotta be the best. And two years in, I really could see very little. And I found myself in front of an HR manager in 1999, saying something I never imagined that I would say. I was 28 years old. I had built a persona all around what I could and couldn't do. And I simply said, "I'm sorry. I can't see, and I need help." Asking for help can be incredibly difficult. And you all know what it is. You don't need to have a disability to know that. We all know how hard it is to admit weakness and failure. And it's frightening, isn't it? But all that belief had fueled me so long.
06:54 And can I tell you, operating in the sighted world when you can't see, it's kind of difficult -- it really is. Can I tell you, airports are a disaster. Oh, for the love of God. And please, any designers out there? OK, designers, please put up your hands, even though I can't even see you. I always end up in the gents' toilets. And there's nothing wrong with my sense of smell. But can I just tell you, the little sign for a gents' toilet or a ladies' toilet is determined by a triangle. Have you ever tried to see that if you have Vaseline in front of your eyes? It's such a small thing, right? And you know how exhausting it can be to try to be perfect when you're not, or to be somebody that you aren't?
07:37 And so after admitting I couldn't see to HR, they sent me off to an eye specialist. And I had no idea that this man was going to change my life. But before I got to him, I was so lost. I had no idea who I was anymore. And that eye specialist, he didn't bother testing my eyes. God no, it was therapy. And he asked me several questions, of which many were, "Why? Why are you fighting so hard not to be yourself? And do you love what you do, Caroline?" And you know, when you go to a global consulting firm, they put a chip in your head, and you're like, "I love Accenture. I love Accenture. I love my job. I love Accenture. I love Accenture. I love Accenture. I love my job. I love Accenture." (Laughter) To leave would be failure. And he said, "Do you love it?" I couldn't even speak I was so choked up. I just was so -- how do I tell him? And then he said to me, "What did you want to be when you were little?" Now listen, I wasn't going to say to him, "Well, I wanted to race cars and motorbikes." Hardly appropriate at this moment in time. He thought I was mad enough anyway. And as I left his office, he called me back and he said, "I think it's time. I think it's time to stop fighting and do something different." And that door closed. And that silence just outside a doctor's office, that many of us know. And my chest ached. And I had no idea where I was going. I had no idea. But I did know the game was up.
08:57 And I went home, and, because the pain in my chest ached so much, I thought, "I'll go out for a run." Really not a very sensible thing to do. And I went on a run that I know so well. I know this run so well, by the back of my hand. I always run it perfectly fine. I count the steps and the lampposts and all those things that visually impaired people have a tendency to have a lot of meetings with. And there was a rock that I always missed. And I'd never fallen on it, never. And there I was crying away, and smash, bash on my rock. Broken, fallen over on this rock in the middle of March in 2000, typical Irish weather on a Wednesday -- gray, snot, tears everywhere, ridiculously self-pitying.
09:36 And I was floored, and I was broken, and I was angry. And I didn't know what to do. And I sat there for quite some time going, "How am I going to get off this rock and go home? Because who am I going to be? What am I going to be?" And I thought about my dad, and I thought, "Good God, I'm so not Sue now." And I kept thinking over and over in my mind, what had happened? Where did it go wrong? Why didn't I understand? And you know, the extraordinary part of it is I just simply had no answers. I had lost my belief. Look where my belief had brought me to. And now I had lost it. And now I really couldn't see. I was crumpled. And then I remember thinking about that eye specialist asking me, "What do you want to be? What do you want to be? What did you want to be when you were little? Do you love what you do? Do something different. What do you want to be? Do something different. What do you want to be?" And really slowly, slowly, slowly, it happened. And it did happen this way. And then the minute it came, it blew up in my head and bashed in my heart -- something different. "Well, how about Mowgli from 'The Jungle Book'? You don't get more different than that." And the moment, and I mean the moment, the moment that hit me, I swear to God, it was like woo hoo! You know -- something to believe in. And nobody can tell me no. Yes, you can say I can't be an archeologist. But you can't tell me, no, I can't be Mowgli, because guess what? Nobody's ever done it before, so I'm going to go do it. And it doesn't matter whether I'm a boy or a girl, I'm just going to scoot.
11:09 And so I got off that rock, and, oh my God, did I run home. And I sprinted home, and I didn't fall, and I didn't crash. And I ran up the stairs, and there was one of my favorite books of all time, "Travels on My Elephant" by Mark Shand -- I don't know if any of you know it. And I grabbed this book off, and I'm sitting on the couch going, "I know what I'm going to do. I know how to be Mowgli. I'm going to go across India on the back of an elephant. I'm going to be an elephant handler." And I had no idea how I was going to be an elephant handler. From global management consultant to elephant handler. I had no idea how. I had no idea how you hire an elephant, get an elephant. I didn't speak Hindi. I'd never been to India. Hadn't a clue. But I knew I would. Because, when you make a decision at the right time and the right place, God, that universe makes it happen for you.
11:55 Nine months later, after that day on snot rock, I had the only blind date in my life with a seven and a half foot elephant called Kanchi. And together we would trek a thousand kilometers across India. (Applause) The most powerful thing of all, it's not that I didn't achieve before then. Oh my God, I did. But you know, I was believing in the wrong thing. Because I wasn't believing in me, really me, all the bits of me -- all the bits of all of us. Do you know how much of us all pretend to be somebody we're not? And you know what, when you really believe in yourself and everything about you, it's extraordinary what happens.
12:31 And you know what, that trip, that thousand kilometers, it raised enough money for 6,000 cataract eye operations. Six thousand people got to see because of that. When I came home off that elephant, do you know what the most amazing part was? I chucked in my job at Accenture. I left, and I became a social entrepreneur, and I set up an organization with Mark Shand called Elephant Family, which deals with Asian elephant conservation. And I set up Kanchi, because my organization was always going to be named after my elephant, because disability is like the elephant in the room. And I wanted to make you see it in a positive way -- no charity, no pity. But I wanted to work only and truly with business and media leadership to totally reframe disability in a way that was exciting and possible. It was extraordinary. That's what I wanted to do. And I never thought about noes anymore, or not seeing, or any of that kind of nothing. It just seemed that it was possible.
13:24 And you know, the oddest part is, when I was on my way traveling here to TED, I'll be honest, I was petrified. And I speak, but this is an amazing audience, and what am I doing here? But as I was traveling here, you'll be very happy to know, I did use my white symbol stick cane, because it's really good to skip queues in the airport. And I got my way here being happily proud that I couldn't see. And the one thing is that a really good friend of mine, he texted me on the way over, knowing I was scared. Even though I present confident, I was scared. He said, "Be you." And so here I am. This is me, all of me.
14:07 (Applause)
14:15 And I have learned, you know what, cars and motorbikes and elephants, that's not freedom. Being absolutely true to yourself is freedom. And I never needed eyes to see -- never. I simply needed vision and belief. And if you truly believe -- and I mean believe from the bottom of your heart -- you can make change happen. And we need to make it happen, because every single one of us -- woman, man, gay, straight, disabled, perfect, normal, whatever -- everyone of us must be the very best of ourselves. I no longer want anybody to be invisible. We all have to be included. And stop with the labels, the limiting. Losing of labels, because we are not jam jars. We are extraordinary, different, wonderful people.
15:06 Thank you.
Here's the script:
So the Awesome story: It begins about 40 years ago, when my mom and my dad came to Canada. My mom left Nairobi, Kenya. My dad left a small village outside of Amritsar, India. And they got here in the late 1960s. They settled in a shady suburb about an hour east of Toronto, and they settled into a new life. They saw their first dentist, they ate their first hamburger, and they had their first kids. My sister and I grew up here, and we had quiet, happy childhoods. We had close family, good friends, a quiet street. We grew up taking for granted a lot of the things that my parents couldn't take for granted when they grew up -- things like power always on in our houses, things like schools across the street and hospitals down the road and popsicles in the backyard. We grew up, and we grew older. I went to high school. I graduated. I moved out of the house, I got a job, I found a girl, I settled down -- and I realize it sounds like a bad sitcom or a Cat Stevens' song -- 01:18 (Laughter)
01:20 but life was pretty good. Life was pretty good. 2006 was a great year. Under clear blue skies in July in the wine region of Ontario, I got married, surrounded by 150 family and friends. 2007 was a great year. I graduated from school, and I went on a road trip with two of my closest friends. Here's a picture of me and my friend, Chris, on the coast of the Pacific Ocean. We actually saw seals out of our car window, and we pulled over to take a quick picture of them and then blocked them with our giant heads. (Laughter) So you can't actually see them, but it was breathtaking, believe me.
02:04 (Laughter)
02:06 2008 and 2009 were a little tougher. I know that they were tougher for a lot of people, not just me. First of all, the news was so heavy. It's still heavy now, and it was heavy before that, but when you flipped open a newspaper, when you turned on the TV, it was about ice caps melting, wars going on around the world, earthquakes, hurricanes and an economy that was wobbling on the brink of collapse, and then eventually did collapse, and so many of us losing our homes, or our jobs, or our retirements, or our livelihoods. 2008, 2009 were heavy years for me for another reason, too. I was going through a lot of personal problems at the time. My marriage wasn't going well, and we just were growing further and further apart. One day my wife came home from work and summoned the courage, through a lot of tears, to have a very honest conversation. And she said, "I don't love you anymore," and it was one of the most painful things I'd ever heard and certainly the most heartbreaking thing I'd ever heard, until only a month later, when I heard something even more heartbreaking.
03:19 My friend Chris, who I just showed you a picture of, had been battling mental illness for some time. And for those of you whose lives have been touched by mental illness, you know how challenging it can be. I spoke to him on the phone at 10:30 p.m. on a Sunday night. We talked about the TV show we watched that evening. And Monday morning, I found out that he disappeared. Very sadly, he took his own life. And it was a really heavy time.
03:47 And as these dark clouds were circling me, and I was finding it really, really difficult to think of anything good, I said to myself that I really needed a way to focus on the positive somehow. So I came home from work one night, and I logged onto the computer, and I started up a tiny website called 1000awesomethings.com. I was trying to remind myself of the simple, universal, little pleasures that we all love, but we just don't talk about enough -- things like waiters and waitresses who bring you free refills without asking, being the first table to get called up to the dinner buffet at a wedding, wearing warm underwear from just out of the dryer, or when cashiers open up a new check-out lane at the grocery store and you get to be first in line -- even if you were last at the other line, swoop right in there.
04:33 (Laughter)
04:36 And slowly over time, I started putting myself in a better mood. I mean, 50,000 blogs are started a day, and so my blog was just one of those 50,000. And nobody read it except for my mom. Although I should say that my traffic did skyrocket and go up by 100 percent when she forwarded it to my dad. (Laughter) And then I got excited when it started getting tens of hits, and then I started getting excited when it started getting dozens and then hundreds and then thousands and then millions. It started getting bigger and bigger and bigger. And then I got a phone call, and the voice at the other end of the line said, "You've just won the Best Blog In the World award." I was like, that sounds totally fake. (Laughter) (Applause) Which African country do you want me to wire all my money to? (Laughter) But it turns out, I jumped on a plane, and I ended up walking a red carpet between Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Fallon and Martha Stewart. And I went onstage to accept a Webby award for Best Blog. And the surprise and just the amazement of that was only overshadowed by my return to Toronto, when, in my inbox, 10 literary agents were waiting for me to talk about putting this into a book. Flash-forward to the next year and "The Book of Awesome" has now been number one on the bestseller list for 20 straight weeks.
06:09 (Applause)
06:17 But look, I said I wanted to do three things with you today. I said I wanted to tell you the Awesome story, I wanted to share with you the three As of Awesome, and I wanted to leave you with a closing thought. So let's talk about those three As. Over the last few years, I haven't had that much time to really think. But lately I have had the opportunity to take a step back and ask myself: "What is it over the last few years that helped me grow my website, but also grow myself?" And I've summarized those things, for me personally, as three As. They are Attitude, Awareness and Authenticity. I'd love to just talk about each one briefly.
06:54 So Attitude: Look, we're all going to get lumps, and we're all going to get bumps. None of us can predict the future, but we do know one thing about it and that's that it ain't gonna go according to plan. We will all have high highs and big days and proud moments of smiles on graduation stages, father-daughter dances at weddings and healthy babies screeching in the delivery room, but between those high highs, we may also have some lumps and some bumps too. It's sad, and it's not pleasant to talk about, but your husband might leave you, your girlfriend could cheat, your headaches might be more serious than you thought, or your dog could get hit by a car on the street. It's not a happy thought, but your kids could get mixed up in gangs or bad scenes. Your mom could get cancer, your dad could get mean. And there are times in life when you will be tossed in the well, too, with twists in your stomach and with holes in your heart, and when that bad news washes over you, and when that pain sponges and soaks in, I just really hope you feel like you've always got two choices. One, you can swirl and twirl and gloom and doom forever, or two, you can grieve and then face the future with newly sober eyes. Having a great attitude is about choosing option number two, and choosing, no matter how difficult it is, no matter what pain hits you, choosing to move forward and move on and take baby steps into the future.
08:27 The second "A" is Awareness. I love hanging out with three year-olds. I love the way that they see the world, because they're seeing the world for the first time. I love the way that they can stare at a bug crossing the sidewalk. I love the way that they'll stare slack-jawed at their first baseball game with wide eyes and a mitt on their hand, soaking in the crack of the bat and the crunch of the peanuts and the smell of the hotdogs. I love the way that they'll spend hours picking dandelions in the backyard and putting them into a nice centerpiece for Thanksgiving dinner. I love the way that they see the world, because they're seeing the world for the first time. Having a sense of awareness is just about embracing your inner three year-old. Because you all used to be three years old. That three-year-old boy is still part of you. That three-year-old girl is still part of you. They're in there. And being aware is just about remembering that you saw everything you've seen for the first time once, too. So there was a time when it was your first time ever hitting a string of green lights on the way home from work. There was the first time you walked by the open door of a bakery and smelt the bakery air, or the first time you pulled a 20-dollar bill out of your old jacket pocket and said, "Found money."
09:42 The last "A" is Authenticity. And for this one, I want to tell you a quick story. Let's go all the way back to 1932 when, on a peanut farm in Georgia, a little baby boy named Roosevelt Grier was born. Roosevelt Grier, or Rosey Grier, as people used to call him, grew up and grew into a 300-pound, six-foot-five linebacker in the NFL. He's number 76 in the picture. Here he is pictured with the "fearsome foursome." These were four guys on the L.A. Rams in the 1960s you did not want to go up against. They were tough football players doing what they love, which was crushing skulls and separating shoulders on the football field. But Rosey Grier also had another passion. In his deeply authentic self, he also loved needlepoint. (Laughter) He loved knitting. He said that it calmed him down, it relaxed him, it took away his fear of flying and helped him meet chicks. That's what he said. I mean, he loved it so much that, after he retired from the NFL, he started joining clubs. And he even put out a book called "Rosey Grier's Needlepoint for Men." (Laughter) (Applause) It's a great cover. If you notice, he's actually needlepointing his own face.
11:03 (Laughter)
11:05 And so what I love about this story is that Rosey Grier is just such an authentic person, and that's what authenticity is all about. It's just about being you and being cool with that. And I think when you're authentic, you end up following your heart, and you put yourself in places and situations and in conversations that you love and that you enjoy. You meet people that you like talking to. You go places you've dreamt about. And you end you end up following your heart and feeling very fulfilled. So those are the three A's.
11:39 For the closing thought, I want to take you all the way back to my parents coming to Canada. I don't know what it would feel like coming to a new country when you're in your mid-20s. I don't know, because I never did it, but I would imagine that it would take a great attitude. I would imagine that you'd have to be pretty aware of your surroundings and appreciating the small wonders that you're starting to see in your new world. And I think you'd have to be really authentic, you'd have to be really true to yourself in order to get through what you're being exposed to.
12:10 I'd like to pause my TEDTalk for about 10 seconds right now, because you don't get many opportunities in life to do something like this, and my parents are sitting in the front row. So I wanted to ask them to, if they don't mind, stand up. And I just wanted to say thank you to you guys.
12:22 (Applause)
12:41 When I was growing up, my dad used to love telling the story of his first day in Canada. And it's a great story, because what happened was he got off the plane at the Toronto airport, and he was welcomed by a non-profit group, which I'm sure someone in this room runs. (Laughter) And this non-profit group had a big welcoming lunch for all the new immigrants to Canada. And my dad says he got off the plane and he went to this lunch and there was this huge spread. There was bread, there was those little, mini dill pickles, there was olives, those little white onions. There was rolled up turkey cold cuts, rolled up ham cold cuts, rolled up roast beef cold cuts and little cubes of cheese. There was tuna salad sandwiches and egg salad sandwiches and salmon salad sandwiches. There was lasagna, there was casseroles, there was brownies, there was butter tarts, and there was pies, lots and lots of pies. And when my dad tells the story, he says, "The craziest thing was, I'd never seen any of that before, except bread. (Laughter) I didn't know what was meat, what was vegetarian. I was eating olives with pie. (Laughter) I just couldn't believe how many things you can get here."
13:51 (Laughter)
13:53 When I was five years old, my dad used to take me grocery shopping, and he would stare in wonder at the little stickers that are on the fruits and vegetables. He would say, "Look, can you believe they have a mango here from Mexico? They've got an apple here from South Africa. Can you believe they've got a date from Morocco?" He's like, "Do you know where Morocco even is?" And I'd say, "I'm five. I don't even know where I am. Is this A&P?" And he'd say, "I don't know where Morocco is either, but let's find out." And so we'd buy the date, and we'd go home. And we'd actually take an atlas off the shelf, and we'd flip through until we found this mysterious country. And when we did, my dad would say, "Can you believe someone climbed a tree over there, picked this thing off it, put it in a truck, drove it all the way to the docks and then sailed it all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and then put it in another truck and drove that all the way to a tiny grocery store just outside our house, so they could sell it to us for 25 cents?" And I'd say, "I don't believe that." And he's like, "I don't believe it either. Things are amazing. There's just so many things to be happy about."
14:58 When I stop to think about it, he's absolutely right. There are so many things to be happy about. We are the only species on the only life-giving rock in the entire universe that we've ever seen, capable of experiencing so many of these things. I mean, we're the only ones with architecture and agriculture. We're the only ones with jewelry and democracy. We've got airplanes, highway lanes, interior design and horoscope signs. We've got fashion magazines, house party scenes. You can watch a horror movie with monsters. You can go to a concert and hear guitars jamming. We've got books, buffets and radio waves, wedding brides and rollercoaster rides. You can sleep in clean sheets. You can go to the movies and get good seats. You can smell bakery air, walk around with rain hair, pop bubble wrap or take an illegal nap.
15:48 We've got all that, but we've only got 100 years to enjoy it. And that's the sad part. The cashiers at your grocery store, the foreman at your plant, the guy tailgating you home on the highway, the telemarketer calling you during dinner, every teacher you've ever had, everyone that's ever woken up beside you, every politician in every country, every actor in every movie, every single person in your family, everyone you love, everyone in this room and you will be dead in a hundred years. Life is so great that we only get such a short time to experience and enjoy all those tiny little moments that make it so sweet. And that moment is right now, and those moments are counting down, and those moments are always, always, always fleeting.
16:45 You will never be as young as you are right now. And that's why I believe that if you live your life with a great attitude, choosing to move forward and move on whenever life deals you a blow, living with a sense of awareness of the world around you, embracing your inner three year-old and seeing the tiny joys that make life so sweet and being authentic to yourself, being you and being cool with that, letting your heart lead you and putting yourself in experiences that satisfy you, then I think you'll live a life that is rich and is satisfying, and I think you'll live a life that is truly awesome.
So the Awesome story: It begins about 40 years ago, when my mom and my dad came to Canada. My mom left Nairobi, Kenya. My dad left a small village outside of Amritsar, India. And they got here in the late 1960s. They settled in a shady suburb about an hour east of Toronto, and they settled into a new life. They saw their first dentist, they ate their first hamburger, and they had their first kids. My sister and I grew up here, and we had quiet, happy childhoods. We had close family, good friends, a quiet street. We grew up taking for granted a lot of the things that my parents couldn't take for granted when they grew up -- things like power always on in our houses, things like schools across the street and hospitals down the road and popsicles in the backyard. We grew up, and we grew older. I went to high school. I graduated. I moved out of the house, I got a job, I found a girl, I settled down -- and I realize it sounds like a bad sitcom or a Cat Stevens' song -- 01:18 (Laughter)
01:20 but life was pretty good. Life was pretty good. 2006 was a great year. Under clear blue skies in July in the wine region of Ontario, I got married, surrounded by 150 family and friends. 2007 was a great year. I graduated from school, and I went on a road trip with two of my closest friends. Here's a picture of me and my friend, Chris, on the coast of the Pacific Ocean. We actually saw seals out of our car window, and we pulled over to take a quick picture of them and then blocked them with our giant heads. (Laughter) So you can't actually see them, but it was breathtaking, believe me.
02:04 (Laughter)
02:06 2008 and 2009 were a little tougher. I know that they were tougher for a lot of people, not just me. First of all, the news was so heavy. It's still heavy now, and it was heavy before that, but when you flipped open a newspaper, when you turned on the TV, it was about ice caps melting, wars going on around the world, earthquakes, hurricanes and an economy that was wobbling on the brink of collapse, and then eventually did collapse, and so many of us losing our homes, or our jobs, or our retirements, or our livelihoods. 2008, 2009 were heavy years for me for another reason, too. I was going through a lot of personal problems at the time. My marriage wasn't going well, and we just were growing further and further apart. One day my wife came home from work and summoned the courage, through a lot of tears, to have a very honest conversation. And she said, "I don't love you anymore," and it was one of the most painful things I'd ever heard and certainly the most heartbreaking thing I'd ever heard, until only a month later, when I heard something even more heartbreaking.
03:19 My friend Chris, who I just showed you a picture of, had been battling mental illness for some time. And for those of you whose lives have been touched by mental illness, you know how challenging it can be. I spoke to him on the phone at 10:30 p.m. on a Sunday night. We talked about the TV show we watched that evening. And Monday morning, I found out that he disappeared. Very sadly, he took his own life. And it was a really heavy time.
03:47 And as these dark clouds were circling me, and I was finding it really, really difficult to think of anything good, I said to myself that I really needed a way to focus on the positive somehow. So I came home from work one night, and I logged onto the computer, and I started up a tiny website called 1000awesomethings.com. I was trying to remind myself of the simple, universal, little pleasures that we all love, but we just don't talk about enough -- things like waiters and waitresses who bring you free refills without asking, being the first table to get called up to the dinner buffet at a wedding, wearing warm underwear from just out of the dryer, or when cashiers open up a new check-out lane at the grocery store and you get to be first in line -- even if you were last at the other line, swoop right in there.
04:33 (Laughter)
04:36 And slowly over time, I started putting myself in a better mood. I mean, 50,000 blogs are started a day, and so my blog was just one of those 50,000. And nobody read it except for my mom. Although I should say that my traffic did skyrocket and go up by 100 percent when she forwarded it to my dad. (Laughter) And then I got excited when it started getting tens of hits, and then I started getting excited when it started getting dozens and then hundreds and then thousands and then millions. It started getting bigger and bigger and bigger. And then I got a phone call, and the voice at the other end of the line said, "You've just won the Best Blog In the World award." I was like, that sounds totally fake. (Laughter) (Applause) Which African country do you want me to wire all my money to? (Laughter) But it turns out, I jumped on a plane, and I ended up walking a red carpet between Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Fallon and Martha Stewart. And I went onstage to accept a Webby award for Best Blog. And the surprise and just the amazement of that was only overshadowed by my return to Toronto, when, in my inbox, 10 literary agents were waiting for me to talk about putting this into a book. Flash-forward to the next year and "The Book of Awesome" has now been number one on the bestseller list for 20 straight weeks.
06:09 (Applause)
06:17 But look, I said I wanted to do three things with you today. I said I wanted to tell you the Awesome story, I wanted to share with you the three As of Awesome, and I wanted to leave you with a closing thought. So let's talk about those three As. Over the last few years, I haven't had that much time to really think. But lately I have had the opportunity to take a step back and ask myself: "What is it over the last few years that helped me grow my website, but also grow myself?" And I've summarized those things, for me personally, as three As. They are Attitude, Awareness and Authenticity. I'd love to just talk about each one briefly.
06:54 So Attitude: Look, we're all going to get lumps, and we're all going to get bumps. None of us can predict the future, but we do know one thing about it and that's that it ain't gonna go according to plan. We will all have high highs and big days and proud moments of smiles on graduation stages, father-daughter dances at weddings and healthy babies screeching in the delivery room, but between those high highs, we may also have some lumps and some bumps too. It's sad, and it's not pleasant to talk about, but your husband might leave you, your girlfriend could cheat, your headaches might be more serious than you thought, or your dog could get hit by a car on the street. It's not a happy thought, but your kids could get mixed up in gangs or bad scenes. Your mom could get cancer, your dad could get mean. And there are times in life when you will be tossed in the well, too, with twists in your stomach and with holes in your heart, and when that bad news washes over you, and when that pain sponges and soaks in, I just really hope you feel like you've always got two choices. One, you can swirl and twirl and gloom and doom forever, or two, you can grieve and then face the future with newly sober eyes. Having a great attitude is about choosing option number two, and choosing, no matter how difficult it is, no matter what pain hits you, choosing to move forward and move on and take baby steps into the future.
08:27 The second "A" is Awareness. I love hanging out with three year-olds. I love the way that they see the world, because they're seeing the world for the first time. I love the way that they can stare at a bug crossing the sidewalk. I love the way that they'll stare slack-jawed at their first baseball game with wide eyes and a mitt on their hand, soaking in the crack of the bat and the crunch of the peanuts and the smell of the hotdogs. I love the way that they'll spend hours picking dandelions in the backyard and putting them into a nice centerpiece for Thanksgiving dinner. I love the way that they see the world, because they're seeing the world for the first time. Having a sense of awareness is just about embracing your inner three year-old. Because you all used to be three years old. That three-year-old boy is still part of you. That three-year-old girl is still part of you. They're in there. And being aware is just about remembering that you saw everything you've seen for the first time once, too. So there was a time when it was your first time ever hitting a string of green lights on the way home from work. There was the first time you walked by the open door of a bakery and smelt the bakery air, or the first time you pulled a 20-dollar bill out of your old jacket pocket and said, "Found money."
09:42 The last "A" is Authenticity. And for this one, I want to tell you a quick story. Let's go all the way back to 1932 when, on a peanut farm in Georgia, a little baby boy named Roosevelt Grier was born. Roosevelt Grier, or Rosey Grier, as people used to call him, grew up and grew into a 300-pound, six-foot-five linebacker in the NFL. He's number 76 in the picture. Here he is pictured with the "fearsome foursome." These were four guys on the L.A. Rams in the 1960s you did not want to go up against. They were tough football players doing what they love, which was crushing skulls and separating shoulders on the football field. But Rosey Grier also had another passion. In his deeply authentic self, he also loved needlepoint. (Laughter) He loved knitting. He said that it calmed him down, it relaxed him, it took away his fear of flying and helped him meet chicks. That's what he said. I mean, he loved it so much that, after he retired from the NFL, he started joining clubs. And he even put out a book called "Rosey Grier's Needlepoint for Men." (Laughter) (Applause) It's a great cover. If you notice, he's actually needlepointing his own face.
11:03 (Laughter)
11:05 And so what I love about this story is that Rosey Grier is just such an authentic person, and that's what authenticity is all about. It's just about being you and being cool with that. And I think when you're authentic, you end up following your heart, and you put yourself in places and situations and in conversations that you love and that you enjoy. You meet people that you like talking to. You go places you've dreamt about. And you end you end up following your heart and feeling very fulfilled. So those are the three A's.
11:39 For the closing thought, I want to take you all the way back to my parents coming to Canada. I don't know what it would feel like coming to a new country when you're in your mid-20s. I don't know, because I never did it, but I would imagine that it would take a great attitude. I would imagine that you'd have to be pretty aware of your surroundings and appreciating the small wonders that you're starting to see in your new world. And I think you'd have to be really authentic, you'd have to be really true to yourself in order to get through what you're being exposed to.
12:10 I'd like to pause my TEDTalk for about 10 seconds right now, because you don't get many opportunities in life to do something like this, and my parents are sitting in the front row. So I wanted to ask them to, if they don't mind, stand up. And I just wanted to say thank you to you guys.
12:22 (Applause)
12:41 When I was growing up, my dad used to love telling the story of his first day in Canada. And it's a great story, because what happened was he got off the plane at the Toronto airport, and he was welcomed by a non-profit group, which I'm sure someone in this room runs. (Laughter) And this non-profit group had a big welcoming lunch for all the new immigrants to Canada. And my dad says he got off the plane and he went to this lunch and there was this huge spread. There was bread, there was those little, mini dill pickles, there was olives, those little white onions. There was rolled up turkey cold cuts, rolled up ham cold cuts, rolled up roast beef cold cuts and little cubes of cheese. There was tuna salad sandwiches and egg salad sandwiches and salmon salad sandwiches. There was lasagna, there was casseroles, there was brownies, there was butter tarts, and there was pies, lots and lots of pies. And when my dad tells the story, he says, "The craziest thing was, I'd never seen any of that before, except bread. (Laughter) I didn't know what was meat, what was vegetarian. I was eating olives with pie. (Laughter) I just couldn't believe how many things you can get here."
13:51 (Laughter)
13:53 When I was five years old, my dad used to take me grocery shopping, and he would stare in wonder at the little stickers that are on the fruits and vegetables. He would say, "Look, can you believe they have a mango here from Mexico? They've got an apple here from South Africa. Can you believe they've got a date from Morocco?" He's like, "Do you know where Morocco even is?" And I'd say, "I'm five. I don't even know where I am. Is this A&P?" And he'd say, "I don't know where Morocco is either, but let's find out." And so we'd buy the date, and we'd go home. And we'd actually take an atlas off the shelf, and we'd flip through until we found this mysterious country. And when we did, my dad would say, "Can you believe someone climbed a tree over there, picked this thing off it, put it in a truck, drove it all the way to the docks and then sailed it all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and then put it in another truck and drove that all the way to a tiny grocery store just outside our house, so they could sell it to us for 25 cents?" And I'd say, "I don't believe that." And he's like, "I don't believe it either. Things are amazing. There's just so many things to be happy about."
14:58 When I stop to think about it, he's absolutely right. There are so many things to be happy about. We are the only species on the only life-giving rock in the entire universe that we've ever seen, capable of experiencing so many of these things. I mean, we're the only ones with architecture and agriculture. We're the only ones with jewelry and democracy. We've got airplanes, highway lanes, interior design and horoscope signs. We've got fashion magazines, house party scenes. You can watch a horror movie with monsters. You can go to a concert and hear guitars jamming. We've got books, buffets and radio waves, wedding brides and rollercoaster rides. You can sleep in clean sheets. You can go to the movies and get good seats. You can smell bakery air, walk around with rain hair, pop bubble wrap or take an illegal nap.
15:48 We've got all that, but we've only got 100 years to enjoy it. And that's the sad part. The cashiers at your grocery store, the foreman at your plant, the guy tailgating you home on the highway, the telemarketer calling you during dinner, every teacher you've ever had, everyone that's ever woken up beside you, every politician in every country, every actor in every movie, every single person in your family, everyone you love, everyone in this room and you will be dead in a hundred years. Life is so great that we only get such a short time to experience and enjoy all those tiny little moments that make it so sweet. And that moment is right now, and those moments are counting down, and those moments are always, always, always fleeting.
16:45 You will never be as young as you are right now. And that's why I believe that if you live your life with a great attitude, choosing to move forward and move on whenever life deals you a blow, living with a sense of awareness of the world around you, embracing your inner three year-old and seeing the tiny joys that make life so sweet and being authentic to yourself, being you and being cool with that, letting your heart lead you and putting yourself in experiences that satisfy you, then I think you'll live a life that is rich and is satisfying, and I think you'll live a life that is truly awesome.
Imagine a big explosion as you climb through 3,000 ft. Imagine a plane full of smoke. Imagine an engine going clack, clack, clack. It sounds scary. 00:27 Well, I had a unique seat that day. I was sitting in 1D. I was the only one who could talk to the flight attendants. So I looked at them right away, and they said, "No problem. We probably hit some birds." The pilot had already turned the plane around, and we weren't that far. You could see Manhattan. Two minutes later, three things happened at the same time.
00:49 The pilot lines up the plane with the Hudson River. That's usually not the route.
00:55 (Laughter)
00:57 He turns off the engines. Now, imagine being in a plane with no sound. And then he says three words. The most unemotional three words I've ever heard. He says, "Brace for impact." I didn't have to talk to the flight attendant anymore.
01:14 (Laughter)
01:17 I could see in her eyes, it was terror. Life was over.
01:22 Now I want to share with you three things I learned about myself that day. I learned that it all changes in an instant. We have this bucket list, we have these things we want to do in life, and I thought about all the people I wanted to reach out to that I didn't, all the fences I wanted to mend, all the experiences I wanted to have and I never did. As I thought about that later on, I came up with a saying, which is, "I collect bad wines." Because if the wine is ready and the person is there, I'm opening it. I no longer want to postpone anything in life. And that urgency, that purpose, has really changed my life.
02:02 The second thing I learned that day -- and this is as we clear the George Washington Bridge, which was by not a lot --
02:09 (Laughter)
02:10 I thought about, wow, I really feel one real regret. I've lived a good life. In my own humanity and mistakes, I've tried to get better at everything I tried. But in my humanity, I also allow my ego to get in. And I regretted the time I wasted on things that did not matter with people that matter. And I thought about my relationship with my wife, with my friends, with people. And after, as I reflected on that, I decided to eliminate negative energy from my life. It's not perfect, but it's a lot better. I've not had a fight with my wife in two years. It feels great. I no longer try to be right; I choose to be happy.
02:53 The third thing I learned -- and this is as your mental clock starts going, "15, 14, 13." You can see the water coming. I'm saying, "Please blow up." I don't want this thing to break in 20 pieces like you've seen in those documentaries. And as we're coming down, I had a sense of, wow, dying is not scary. It's almost like we've been preparing for it our whole lives. But it was very sad. I didn't want to go; I love my life. And that sadness really framed in one thought, which is, I only wish for one thing. I only wish I could see my kids grow up. About a month later, I was at a performance by my daughter -- first-grader, not much artistic talent --
03:39 (Laughter)
03:40 Yet!
03:41 (Laughter)
03:43 And I'm bawling, I'm crying, like a little kid. And it made all the sense in the world to me. I realized at that point, by connecting those two dots, that the only thing that matters in my life is being a great dad. Above all, above all, the only goal I have in life is to be a good dad.
04:06 I was given the gift of a miracle, of not dying that day. I was given another gift, which was to be able to see into the future and come back and live differently. I challenge you guys that are flying today, imagine the same thing happens on your plane -- and please don't -- but imagine, and how would you change? What would you get done that you're waiting to get done because you think you'll be here forever? How would you change your relationships and the negative energy in them? And more than anything, are you being the best parent you can?
00:49 The pilot lines up the plane with the Hudson River. That's usually not the route.
00:55 (Laughter)
00:57 He turns off the engines. Now, imagine being in a plane with no sound. And then he says three words. The most unemotional three words I've ever heard. He says, "Brace for impact." I didn't have to talk to the flight attendant anymore.
01:14 (Laughter)
01:17 I could see in her eyes, it was terror. Life was over.
01:22 Now I want to share with you three things I learned about myself that day. I learned that it all changes in an instant. We have this bucket list, we have these things we want to do in life, and I thought about all the people I wanted to reach out to that I didn't, all the fences I wanted to mend, all the experiences I wanted to have and I never did. As I thought about that later on, I came up with a saying, which is, "I collect bad wines." Because if the wine is ready and the person is there, I'm opening it. I no longer want to postpone anything in life. And that urgency, that purpose, has really changed my life.
02:02 The second thing I learned that day -- and this is as we clear the George Washington Bridge, which was by not a lot --
02:09 (Laughter)
02:10 I thought about, wow, I really feel one real regret. I've lived a good life. In my own humanity and mistakes, I've tried to get better at everything I tried. But in my humanity, I also allow my ego to get in. And I regretted the time I wasted on things that did not matter with people that matter. And I thought about my relationship with my wife, with my friends, with people. And after, as I reflected on that, I decided to eliminate negative energy from my life. It's not perfect, but it's a lot better. I've not had a fight with my wife in two years. It feels great. I no longer try to be right; I choose to be happy.
02:53 The third thing I learned -- and this is as your mental clock starts going, "15, 14, 13." You can see the water coming. I'm saying, "Please blow up." I don't want this thing to break in 20 pieces like you've seen in those documentaries. And as we're coming down, I had a sense of, wow, dying is not scary. It's almost like we've been preparing for it our whole lives. But it was very sad. I didn't want to go; I love my life. And that sadness really framed in one thought, which is, I only wish for one thing. I only wish I could see my kids grow up. About a month later, I was at a performance by my daughter -- first-grader, not much artistic talent --
03:39 (Laughter)
03:40 Yet!
03:41 (Laughter)
03:43 And I'm bawling, I'm crying, like a little kid. And it made all the sense in the world to me. I realized at that point, by connecting those two dots, that the only thing that matters in my life is being a great dad. Above all, above all, the only goal I have in life is to be a good dad.
04:06 I was given the gift of a miracle, of not dying that day. I was given another gift, which was to be able to see into the future and come back and live differently. I challenge you guys that are flying today, imagine the same thing happens on your plane -- and please don't -- but imagine, and how would you change? What would you get done that you're waiting to get done because you think you'll be here forever? How would you change your relationships and the negative energy in them? And more than anything, are you being the best parent you can?
Her's the prepared commencement address:
Stanford Report, June 14, 2005'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs saysThis is a prepared text of the Commencement address delivered by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, on June 12, 2005.
Video of the Commencement address is above.
I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?
It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned Coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and sans serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But 10 years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backward 10 years later.
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
My second story is about love and loss.
I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents' garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4,000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.
I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down — that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.
During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world's first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.
I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.
My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.
This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: It was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Thank you all very much.
Stanford Report, June 14, 2005'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs saysThis is a prepared text of the Commencement address delivered by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, on June 12, 2005.
Video of the Commencement address is above.
I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?
It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned Coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and sans serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But 10 years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backward 10 years later.
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
My second story is about love and loss.
I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents' garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4,000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.
I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down — that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.
During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world's first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.
I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.
My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.
This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: It was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Thank you all very much.
Stanford Report, June 15, 2008Oprah talks to graduates about feelings, failure and finding happinessFollowing is an edited transcript of Oprah Winfrey's speech at Stanford's Commencement ceremony Sunday, June 15, 2008
L.A. Cicero Winfrey wielded her familair and forceful presence, updating the metaphor of the moral compass by calling feelings the “GPS system for life.” She went on to say, “Even doubt means don’t. This is what I’ve learned.”
Thank you, President Hennessy, and to the trustees and the faculty, to all of the parents and grandparents, to you, the Stanford graduates. Thank you for letting me share this amazing day with you.
I need to begin by letting everyone in on a little secret. The secret is that Kirby Bumpus, Stanford Class of '08, is my goddaughter. So, I was thrilled when President Hennessy asked me to be your Commencement speaker, because this is the first time I've been allowed on campus since Kirby's been here.
You see, Kirby's a very smart girl. She wants people to get to know her on her own terms, she says. Not in terms of who she knows. So, she never wants anyone who's first meeting her to know that I know her and she knows me. So, when she first came to Stanford for new student orientation with her mom, I hear that they arrived and everybody was so welcoming, and somebody came up to Kirby and they said, "Ohmigod, that's Gayle King!" Because a lot of people know Gayle King as my BFF [best friend forever].
And so somebody comes up to Kirby, and they say, "Ohmigod, is that Gayle King?" And Kirby's like, "Uh-huh. She's my mom."
And so the person says, "Ohmigod, does it mean, like, you know Oprah Winfrey?"
And Kirby says, "Sort of."
I said, "Sort of? You sort of know me?" Well, I have photographic proof. I have pictures which I can e-mail to you all of Kirby riding horsey with me on all fours. So, I more than sort-of know Kirby Bumpus. And I'm so happy to be here, just happy that I finally, after four years, get to see her room. There's really nowhere else I'd rather be, because I'm so proud of Kirby, who graduates today with two degrees, one in human bio and the other in psychology. Love you, Kirby Cakes! That's how well I know her. I can call her Cakes.
And so proud of her mother and father, who helped her get through this time, and her brother, Will. I really had nothing to do with her graduating from Stanford, but every time anybody's asked me in the past couple of weeks what I was doing, I would say, "I'm getting ready to go to Stanford."
I just love saying "Stanford." Because the truth is, I know I would have never gotten my degree at all, 'cause I didn't go to Stanford. I went to Tennessee State University. But I never would have gotten my diploma at all, because I was supposed to graduate back in 1975, but I was short one credit. And I figured, I'm just going to forget it, 'cause, you know, I'm not going to march with my class. Because by that point, I was already on television. I'd been in television since I was 19 and a sophomore. Granted, I was the only television anchor person that had an 11 o'clock curfew doing the 10 o'clock news.
Seriously, my dad was like, "Well, that news is over at 10:30. Be home by 11."
But that didn't matter to me, because I was earning a living. I was on my way. So, I thought, I'm going to let this college thing go and I only had one credit short. But, my father, from that time on and for years after, was always on my case, because I did not graduate. He'd say, "Oprah Gail"—that's my middle name—"I don't know what you're gonna do without that degree." And I'd say, "But, Dad, I have my own television show."
And he'd say, "Well, I still don't know what you're going to do without that degree."
And I'd say, "But, Dad, now I'm a talk show host." He'd say, "I don't know how you're going to get another job without that degree."
So, in 1987, Tennessee State University invited me back to speak at their commencement. By then, I had my own show, was nationally syndicated. I'd made a movie, had been nominated for an Oscar and founded my company, Harpo. But I told them, I cannot come and give a speech unless I can earn one more credit, because my dad's still saying I'm not going to get anywhere without that degree.
So, I finished my coursework, I turned in my final paper and I got the degree.
And my dad was very proud. And I know that, if anything happens, that one credit will be my salvation.
But I also know why my dad was insisting on that diploma, because, as B. B. King put it, "The beautiful thing about learning is that nobody can take that away from you." And learning is really in the broadest sense what I want to talk about today, because your education, of course, isn't ending here. In many ways, it's only just begun.
The world has so many lessons to teach you. I consider the world, this Earth, to be like a school and our life the classrooms. And sometimes here in this Planet Earth school the lessons often come dressed up as detours or roadblocks. And sometimes as full-blown crises. And the secret I've learned to getting ahead is being open to the lessons, lessons from the grandest university of all, that is, the universe itself.
It's being able to walk through life eager and open to self-improvement and that which is going to best help you evolve, 'cause that's really why we're here, to evolve as human beings. To grow into more of ourselves, always moving to the next level of understanding, the next level of compassion and growth.
I think about one of the greatest compliments I've ever received: I interviewed with a reporter when I was first starting out in Chicago. And then many years later, I saw the same reporter. And she said to me, "You know what? You really haven't changed. You've just become more of yourself."
And that is really what we're all trying to do, become more of ourselves. And I believe that there's a lesson in almost everything that you do and every experience, and getting the lesson is how you move forward. It's how you enrich your spirit. And, trust me, I know that inner wisdom is more precious than wealth. The more you spend it, the more you gain.
So, today, I just want to share a few lessons—meaning three—that I've learned in my journey so far. And aren't you glad? Don't you hate it when somebody says, "I'm going to share a few," and it's 10 lessons later? And, you're like, "Listen, this is my graduation. This is not about you." So, it's only going to be three.
The three lessons that have had the greatest impact on my life have to do with feelings, with failure and with finding happiness.
A year after I left college, I was given the opportunity to co-anchor the 6 o'clock news in Baltimore, because the whole goal in the media at the time I was coming up was you try to move to larger markets. And Baltimore was a much larger market than Nashville. So, getting the 6 o'clock news co-anchor job at 22 was such a big deal. It felt like the biggest deal in the world at the time.
And I was so proud, because I was finally going to have my chance to be like Barbara Walters, which is who I had been trying to emulate since the start of my TV career. So, I was 22 years old, making $22,000 a year. And it's where I met my best friend, Gayle, who was an intern at the same TV station. And once we became friends, we'd say, "Ohmigod, I can't believe it! You're making $22,000 and you're only 22. Imagine when you're 40 and you're making $40,000!"
When I turned 40, I was so glad that didn't happen.
So, here I am, 22, making $22,000 a year and, yet, it didn't feel right. It didn't feel right. The first sign, as President Hennessy was saying, was when they tried to change my name. The news director said to me at the time, "Nobody's going to remember Oprah. So, we want to change your name. We've come up with a name we think that people will remember and people will like. It's a friendly name: Suzie."
Hi, Suzie. Very friendly. You can't be angry with Suzie. Remember Suzie. But my name wasn't Suzie. And, you know, I'd grown up not really loving my name, because when you're looking for your little name on the lunch boxes and the license plate tags, you're never going to find Oprah.
So, I grew up not loving the name, but once I was asked to change it, I thought, well, it is my name and do I look like a Suzie to you? So, I thought, no, it doesn't feel right. I'm not going to change my name. And if people remember it or not, that's OK.
And then they said they didn't like the way I looked. This was in 1976, when your boss could call you in and say, "I don't like the way you look." Now that would be called a lawsuit, but back then they could just say, "I don't like the way you look." Which, in case some of you in the back, if you can't tell, is nothing like Barbara Walters. So, they sent me to a salon where they gave me a perm, and after a few days all my hair fell out and I had to shave my head. And then they really didn't like the way I looked.
Because now I am black and bald and sitting on TV. Not a pretty picture.
But even worse than being bald, I really hated, hated, hated being sent to report on other people's tragedies as a part of my daily duty, knowing that I was just expected to observe, when everything in my instinct told me that I should be doing something, I should be lending a hand.
So, as President Hennessy said, I'd cover a fire and then I'd go back and I'd try to give the victims blankets. And I wouldn't be able to sleep at night because of all the things I was covering during the day.
And, meanwhile, I was trying to sit gracefully like Barbara and make myself talk like Barbara. And I thought, well, I could make a pretty goofy Barbara. And if I could figure out how to be myself, I could be a pretty good Oprah. I was trying to sound elegant like Barbara. And sometimes I didn't read my copy, because something inside me said, this should be spontaneous. So, I wanted to get the news as I was giving it to the people. So, sometimes, I wouldn't read my copy and it would be, like, six people on a pileup on I-40. Oh, my goodness.
And sometimes I wouldn't read the copy—because I wanted to be spontaneous—and I'd come across a list of words I didn't know and I'd mispronounce. And one day I was reading copy and I called Canada "ca nada." And I decided, this Barbara thing's not going too well. I should try being myself.
But at the same time, my dad was saying, "Oprah Gail, this is an opportunity of a lifetime. You better keep that job." And my boss was saying, "This is the nightly news. You're an anchor, not a social worker. Just do your job."
So, I was juggling these messages of expectation and obligation and feeling really miserable with myself. I'd go home at night and fill up my journals, 'cause I've kept a journal since I was 15—so I now have volumes of journals. So, I'd go home at night and fill up my journals about how miserable I was and frustrated. Then I'd eat my anxiety. That's where I learned that habit.
And after eight months, I lost that job. They said I was too emotional. I was too much. But since they didn't want to pay out the contract, they put me on a talk show in Baltimore. And the moment I sat down on that show, the moment I did, I felt like I'd come home. I realized that TV could be more than just a playground, but a platform for service, for helping other people lift their lives. And the moment I sat down, doing that talk show, it felt like breathing. It felt right. And that's where everything that followed for me began.
And I got that lesson. When you're doing the work you're meant to do, it feels right and every day is a bonus, regardless of what you're getting paid.
It's true. And how do you know when you're doing something right? How do you know that? It feels so. What I know now is that feelings are really your GPS system for life. When you're supposed to do something or not supposed to do something, your emotional guidance system lets you know. The trick is to learn to check your ego at the door and start checking your gut instead. Every right decision I've made—every right decision I've ever made—has come from my gut. And every wrong decision I've ever made was a result of me not listening to the greater voice of myself.
If it doesn't feel right, don't do it. That's the lesson. And that lesson alone will save you, my friends, a lot of grief. Even doubt means don't. This is what I've learned. There are many times when you don't know what to do. When you don't know what to do, get still, get very still, until you do know what to do.
And when you do get still and let your internal motivation be the driver, not only will your personal life improve, but you will gain a competitive edge in the working world as well. Because, as Daniel Pink writes in his best-seller, A Whole New Mind, we're entering a whole new age. And he calls it the Conceptual Age, where traits that set people apart today are going to come from our hearts—right brain—as well as our heads. It's no longer just the logical, linear, rules-based thinking that matters, he says. It's also empathy and joyfulness and purpose, inner traits that have transcendent worth.
These qualities bloom when we're doing what we love, when we're involving the wholeness of ourselves in our work, both our expertise and our emotion.
So, I say to you, forget about the fast lane. If you really want to fly, just harness your power to your passion. Honor your calling. Everybody has one. Trust your heart and success will come to you.
So, how do I define success? Let me tell you, money's pretty nice. I'm not going to stand up here and tell you that it's not about money, 'cause money is very nice. I like money. It's good for buying things.
But having a lot of money does not automatically make you a successful person. What you want is money and meaning. You want your work to be meaningful. Because meaning is what brings the real richness to your life. What you really want is to be surrounded by people you trust and treasure and by people who cherish you. That's when you're really rich.
So, lesson one, follow your feelings. If it feels right, move forward. If it doesn't feel right, don't do it.
Now I want to talk a little bit about failings, because nobody's journey is seamless or smooth. We all stumble. We all have setbacks. If things go wrong, you hit a dead end—as you will—it's just life's way of saying time to change course. So, ask every failure—this is what I do with every failure, every crisis, every difficult time—I say, what is this here to teach me? And as soon as you get the lesson, you get to move on. If you really get the lesson, you pass and you don't have to repeat the class. If you don't get the lesson, it shows up wearing another pair of pants—or skirt—to give you some remedial work.
And what I've found is that difficulties come when you don't pay attention to life's whisper, because life always whispers to you first. And if you ignore the whisper, sooner or later you'll get a scream. Whatever you resist persists. But, if you ask the right question—not why is this happening, but what is this here to teach me?—it puts you in the place and space to get the lesson you need.
My friend Eckhart Tolle, who's written this wonderful book called A New Earth that's all about letting the awareness of who you are stimulate everything that you do, he puts it like this: He says, don't react against a bad situation; merge with that situation instead. And the solution will arise from the challenge. Because surrendering yourself doesn't mean giving up; it means acting with responsibility.
Many of you know that, as President Hennessy said, I started this school in Africa. And I founded the school, where I'm trying to give South African girls a shot at a future like yours—Stanford. And I spent five years making sure that school would be as beautiful as the students. I wanted every girl to feel her worth reflected in her surroundings. So, I checked every blueprint, I picked every pillow. I was looking at the grout in between the bricks. I knew every thread count of the sheets. I chose every girl from the villages, from nine provinces. And yet, last fall, I was faced with a crisis I had never anticipated. I was told that one of the dorm matrons was suspected of sexual abuse.
That was, as you can imagine, devastating news. First, I cried—actually, I sobbed—for about half an hour. And then I said, let's get to it; that's all you get, a half an hour. You need to focus on the now, what you need to do now. So, I contacted a child trauma specialist. I put together a team of investigators. I made sure the girls had counseling and support. And Gayle and I got on a plane and flew to South Africa.
And the whole time I kept asking that question: What is this here to teach me? And, as difficult as that experience has been, I got a lot of lessons. I understand now the mistakes I made, because I had been paying attention to all of the wrong things. I'd built that school from the outside in, when what really mattered was the inside out.
So, it's a lesson that applies to all of our lives as a whole. What matters most is what's inside. What matters most is the sense of integrity, of quality and beauty. I got that lesson. And what I know is that the girls came away with something, too. They have emerged from this more resilient and knowing that their voices have power.
And their resilience and spirit have given me more than I could ever give to them, which leads me to my final lesson—the one about finding happiness—which we could talk about all day, but I know you have other wacky things to do.
Not a small topic this is, finding happiness. But in some ways I think it's the simplest of all. Gwendolyn Brooks wrote a poem for her children. It's called "Speech to the Young : Speech to the Progress-Toward." And she says at the end, "Live not for battles won. / Live not for the-end-of-the-song. / Live in the along." She's saying, like Eckhart Tolle, that you have to live for the present. You have to be in the moment. Whatever has happened to you in your past has no power over this present moment, because life is now.
But I think she's also saying, be a part of something. Don't live for yourself alone. This is what I know for sure: In order to be truly happy, you must live along with and you have to stand for something larger than yourself. Because life is a reciprocal exchange. To move forward you have to give back. And to me, that is the greatest lesson of life. To be happy, you have to give something back.
I know you know that, because that's a lesson that's woven into the very fabric of this university. It's a lesson that Jane and Leland Stanford got and one they've bequeathed to you. Because all of you know the story of how this great school came to be, how the Stanfords lost their only child to typhoid at the age of 15. They had every right and they had every reason to turn their backs against the world at that time, but instead, they channeled their grief and their pain into an act of grace. Within a year of their son's death, they had made the founding grant for this great school, pledging to do for other people's children what they were not able to do for their own boy.
The lesson here is clear, and that is, if you're hurting, you need to help somebody ease their hurt. If you're in pain, help somebody else's pain. And when you're in a mess, you get yourself out of the mess helping somebody out of theirs. And in the process, you get to become a member of what I call the greatest fellowship of all, the sorority of compassion and the fraternity of service.
The Stanfords had suffered the worst thing any mom and dad can ever endure, yet they understood that helping others is the way we help ourselves. And this wisdom is increasingly supported by scientific and sociological research. It's no longer just woo-woo soft-skills talk. There's actually a helper's high, a spiritual surge you gain from serving others. So, if you want to feel good, you have to go out and do some good.
But when you do good, I hope you strive for more than just the good feeling that service provides, because I know this for sure, that doing good actually makes you better. So, whatever field you choose, if you operate from the paradigm of service, I know your life will have more value and you will be happy.
I was always happy doing my talk show, but that happiness reached a depth of fulfillment, of joy, that I really can't describe to you or measure when I stopped just being on TV and looking at TV as a job and decided to use television, to use it and not have it use me, to use it as a platform to serve my viewers. That alone changed the trajectory of my success.
So, I know this—that whether you're an actor, you offer your talent in the way that most inspires art. If you're an anatomist, you look at your gift as knowledge and service to healing. Whether you've been called, as so many of you here today getting doctorates and other degrees, to the professions of business, law, engineering, humanities, science, medicine, if you choose to offer your skills and talent in service, when you choose the paradigm of service, looking at life through that paradigm, it turns everything you do from a job into a gift. And I know you haven't spent all this time at Stanford just to go out and get a job.
You've been enriched in countless ways. There's no better way to make your mark on the world and to share that abundance with others. My constant prayer for myself is to be used in service for the greater good.
So, let me end with one of my favorite quotes from Martin Luther King. Dr. King said, "Not everybody can be famous." And I don't know, but everybody today seems to want to be famous.
But fame is a trip. People follow you to the bathroom, listen to you pee. It's just—try to pee quietly. It doesn't matter, they come out and say, "Ohmigod, it's you. You peed."
That's the fame trip, so I don't know if you want that.
So, Dr. King said, "Not everybody can be famous. But everybody can be great, because greatness is determined by service." Those of you who are history scholars may know the rest of that passage. He said, "You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You don't have to know about Plato or Aristotle to serve. You don't have to know Einstein's theory of relativity to serve. You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace and a soul generated by love."
In a few moments, you'll all be officially Stanford's '08.
You have the heart and the smarts to go with it. And it's up to you to decide, really, where will you now use those gifts? You've got the diploma, so go out and get the lessons, 'cause I know great things are sure to come.
You know, I've always believed that everything is better when you share it, so before I go, I wanted to share a graduation gift with you. Underneath your seats you'll find two of my favorite books. Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth is my current book club selection. Our New Earth webcast has been downloaded 30 million times with that book. And Daniel Pink's A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future has reassured me I'm in the right direction.
I really wanted to give you cars but I just couldn't pull that off! Congratulations, '08!
Thank you. Thank you.
L.A. Cicero Winfrey wielded her familair and forceful presence, updating the metaphor of the moral compass by calling feelings the “GPS system for life.” She went on to say, “Even doubt means don’t. This is what I’ve learned.”
Thank you, President Hennessy, and to the trustees and the faculty, to all of the parents and grandparents, to you, the Stanford graduates. Thank you for letting me share this amazing day with you.
I need to begin by letting everyone in on a little secret. The secret is that Kirby Bumpus, Stanford Class of '08, is my goddaughter. So, I was thrilled when President Hennessy asked me to be your Commencement speaker, because this is the first time I've been allowed on campus since Kirby's been here.
You see, Kirby's a very smart girl. She wants people to get to know her on her own terms, she says. Not in terms of who she knows. So, she never wants anyone who's first meeting her to know that I know her and she knows me. So, when she first came to Stanford for new student orientation with her mom, I hear that they arrived and everybody was so welcoming, and somebody came up to Kirby and they said, "Ohmigod, that's Gayle King!" Because a lot of people know Gayle King as my BFF [best friend forever].
And so somebody comes up to Kirby, and they say, "Ohmigod, is that Gayle King?" And Kirby's like, "Uh-huh. She's my mom."
And so the person says, "Ohmigod, does it mean, like, you know Oprah Winfrey?"
And Kirby says, "Sort of."
I said, "Sort of? You sort of know me?" Well, I have photographic proof. I have pictures which I can e-mail to you all of Kirby riding horsey with me on all fours. So, I more than sort-of know Kirby Bumpus. And I'm so happy to be here, just happy that I finally, after four years, get to see her room. There's really nowhere else I'd rather be, because I'm so proud of Kirby, who graduates today with two degrees, one in human bio and the other in psychology. Love you, Kirby Cakes! That's how well I know her. I can call her Cakes.
And so proud of her mother and father, who helped her get through this time, and her brother, Will. I really had nothing to do with her graduating from Stanford, but every time anybody's asked me in the past couple of weeks what I was doing, I would say, "I'm getting ready to go to Stanford."
I just love saying "Stanford." Because the truth is, I know I would have never gotten my degree at all, 'cause I didn't go to Stanford. I went to Tennessee State University. But I never would have gotten my diploma at all, because I was supposed to graduate back in 1975, but I was short one credit. And I figured, I'm just going to forget it, 'cause, you know, I'm not going to march with my class. Because by that point, I was already on television. I'd been in television since I was 19 and a sophomore. Granted, I was the only television anchor person that had an 11 o'clock curfew doing the 10 o'clock news.
Seriously, my dad was like, "Well, that news is over at 10:30. Be home by 11."
But that didn't matter to me, because I was earning a living. I was on my way. So, I thought, I'm going to let this college thing go and I only had one credit short. But, my father, from that time on and for years after, was always on my case, because I did not graduate. He'd say, "Oprah Gail"—that's my middle name—"I don't know what you're gonna do without that degree." And I'd say, "But, Dad, I have my own television show."
And he'd say, "Well, I still don't know what you're going to do without that degree."
And I'd say, "But, Dad, now I'm a talk show host." He'd say, "I don't know how you're going to get another job without that degree."
So, in 1987, Tennessee State University invited me back to speak at their commencement. By then, I had my own show, was nationally syndicated. I'd made a movie, had been nominated for an Oscar and founded my company, Harpo. But I told them, I cannot come and give a speech unless I can earn one more credit, because my dad's still saying I'm not going to get anywhere without that degree.
So, I finished my coursework, I turned in my final paper and I got the degree.
And my dad was very proud. And I know that, if anything happens, that one credit will be my salvation.
But I also know why my dad was insisting on that diploma, because, as B. B. King put it, "The beautiful thing about learning is that nobody can take that away from you." And learning is really in the broadest sense what I want to talk about today, because your education, of course, isn't ending here. In many ways, it's only just begun.
The world has so many lessons to teach you. I consider the world, this Earth, to be like a school and our life the classrooms. And sometimes here in this Planet Earth school the lessons often come dressed up as detours or roadblocks. And sometimes as full-blown crises. And the secret I've learned to getting ahead is being open to the lessons, lessons from the grandest university of all, that is, the universe itself.
It's being able to walk through life eager and open to self-improvement and that which is going to best help you evolve, 'cause that's really why we're here, to evolve as human beings. To grow into more of ourselves, always moving to the next level of understanding, the next level of compassion and growth.
I think about one of the greatest compliments I've ever received: I interviewed with a reporter when I was first starting out in Chicago. And then many years later, I saw the same reporter. And she said to me, "You know what? You really haven't changed. You've just become more of yourself."
And that is really what we're all trying to do, become more of ourselves. And I believe that there's a lesson in almost everything that you do and every experience, and getting the lesson is how you move forward. It's how you enrich your spirit. And, trust me, I know that inner wisdom is more precious than wealth. The more you spend it, the more you gain.
So, today, I just want to share a few lessons—meaning three—that I've learned in my journey so far. And aren't you glad? Don't you hate it when somebody says, "I'm going to share a few," and it's 10 lessons later? And, you're like, "Listen, this is my graduation. This is not about you." So, it's only going to be three.
The three lessons that have had the greatest impact on my life have to do with feelings, with failure and with finding happiness.
A year after I left college, I was given the opportunity to co-anchor the 6 o'clock news in Baltimore, because the whole goal in the media at the time I was coming up was you try to move to larger markets. And Baltimore was a much larger market than Nashville. So, getting the 6 o'clock news co-anchor job at 22 was such a big deal. It felt like the biggest deal in the world at the time.
And I was so proud, because I was finally going to have my chance to be like Barbara Walters, which is who I had been trying to emulate since the start of my TV career. So, I was 22 years old, making $22,000 a year. And it's where I met my best friend, Gayle, who was an intern at the same TV station. And once we became friends, we'd say, "Ohmigod, I can't believe it! You're making $22,000 and you're only 22. Imagine when you're 40 and you're making $40,000!"
When I turned 40, I was so glad that didn't happen.
So, here I am, 22, making $22,000 a year and, yet, it didn't feel right. It didn't feel right. The first sign, as President Hennessy was saying, was when they tried to change my name. The news director said to me at the time, "Nobody's going to remember Oprah. So, we want to change your name. We've come up with a name we think that people will remember and people will like. It's a friendly name: Suzie."
Hi, Suzie. Very friendly. You can't be angry with Suzie. Remember Suzie. But my name wasn't Suzie. And, you know, I'd grown up not really loving my name, because when you're looking for your little name on the lunch boxes and the license plate tags, you're never going to find Oprah.
So, I grew up not loving the name, but once I was asked to change it, I thought, well, it is my name and do I look like a Suzie to you? So, I thought, no, it doesn't feel right. I'm not going to change my name. And if people remember it or not, that's OK.
And then they said they didn't like the way I looked. This was in 1976, when your boss could call you in and say, "I don't like the way you look." Now that would be called a lawsuit, but back then they could just say, "I don't like the way you look." Which, in case some of you in the back, if you can't tell, is nothing like Barbara Walters. So, they sent me to a salon where they gave me a perm, and after a few days all my hair fell out and I had to shave my head. And then they really didn't like the way I looked.
Because now I am black and bald and sitting on TV. Not a pretty picture.
But even worse than being bald, I really hated, hated, hated being sent to report on other people's tragedies as a part of my daily duty, knowing that I was just expected to observe, when everything in my instinct told me that I should be doing something, I should be lending a hand.
So, as President Hennessy said, I'd cover a fire and then I'd go back and I'd try to give the victims blankets. And I wouldn't be able to sleep at night because of all the things I was covering during the day.
And, meanwhile, I was trying to sit gracefully like Barbara and make myself talk like Barbara. And I thought, well, I could make a pretty goofy Barbara. And if I could figure out how to be myself, I could be a pretty good Oprah. I was trying to sound elegant like Barbara. And sometimes I didn't read my copy, because something inside me said, this should be spontaneous. So, I wanted to get the news as I was giving it to the people. So, sometimes, I wouldn't read my copy and it would be, like, six people on a pileup on I-40. Oh, my goodness.
And sometimes I wouldn't read the copy—because I wanted to be spontaneous—and I'd come across a list of words I didn't know and I'd mispronounce. And one day I was reading copy and I called Canada "ca nada." And I decided, this Barbara thing's not going too well. I should try being myself.
But at the same time, my dad was saying, "Oprah Gail, this is an opportunity of a lifetime. You better keep that job." And my boss was saying, "This is the nightly news. You're an anchor, not a social worker. Just do your job."
So, I was juggling these messages of expectation and obligation and feeling really miserable with myself. I'd go home at night and fill up my journals, 'cause I've kept a journal since I was 15—so I now have volumes of journals. So, I'd go home at night and fill up my journals about how miserable I was and frustrated. Then I'd eat my anxiety. That's where I learned that habit.
And after eight months, I lost that job. They said I was too emotional. I was too much. But since they didn't want to pay out the contract, they put me on a talk show in Baltimore. And the moment I sat down on that show, the moment I did, I felt like I'd come home. I realized that TV could be more than just a playground, but a platform for service, for helping other people lift their lives. And the moment I sat down, doing that talk show, it felt like breathing. It felt right. And that's where everything that followed for me began.
And I got that lesson. When you're doing the work you're meant to do, it feels right and every day is a bonus, regardless of what you're getting paid.
It's true. And how do you know when you're doing something right? How do you know that? It feels so. What I know now is that feelings are really your GPS system for life. When you're supposed to do something or not supposed to do something, your emotional guidance system lets you know. The trick is to learn to check your ego at the door and start checking your gut instead. Every right decision I've made—every right decision I've ever made—has come from my gut. And every wrong decision I've ever made was a result of me not listening to the greater voice of myself.
If it doesn't feel right, don't do it. That's the lesson. And that lesson alone will save you, my friends, a lot of grief. Even doubt means don't. This is what I've learned. There are many times when you don't know what to do. When you don't know what to do, get still, get very still, until you do know what to do.
And when you do get still and let your internal motivation be the driver, not only will your personal life improve, but you will gain a competitive edge in the working world as well. Because, as Daniel Pink writes in his best-seller, A Whole New Mind, we're entering a whole new age. And he calls it the Conceptual Age, where traits that set people apart today are going to come from our hearts—right brain—as well as our heads. It's no longer just the logical, linear, rules-based thinking that matters, he says. It's also empathy and joyfulness and purpose, inner traits that have transcendent worth.
These qualities bloom when we're doing what we love, when we're involving the wholeness of ourselves in our work, both our expertise and our emotion.
So, I say to you, forget about the fast lane. If you really want to fly, just harness your power to your passion. Honor your calling. Everybody has one. Trust your heart and success will come to you.
So, how do I define success? Let me tell you, money's pretty nice. I'm not going to stand up here and tell you that it's not about money, 'cause money is very nice. I like money. It's good for buying things.
But having a lot of money does not automatically make you a successful person. What you want is money and meaning. You want your work to be meaningful. Because meaning is what brings the real richness to your life. What you really want is to be surrounded by people you trust and treasure and by people who cherish you. That's when you're really rich.
So, lesson one, follow your feelings. If it feels right, move forward. If it doesn't feel right, don't do it.
Now I want to talk a little bit about failings, because nobody's journey is seamless or smooth. We all stumble. We all have setbacks. If things go wrong, you hit a dead end—as you will—it's just life's way of saying time to change course. So, ask every failure—this is what I do with every failure, every crisis, every difficult time—I say, what is this here to teach me? And as soon as you get the lesson, you get to move on. If you really get the lesson, you pass and you don't have to repeat the class. If you don't get the lesson, it shows up wearing another pair of pants—or skirt—to give you some remedial work.
And what I've found is that difficulties come when you don't pay attention to life's whisper, because life always whispers to you first. And if you ignore the whisper, sooner or later you'll get a scream. Whatever you resist persists. But, if you ask the right question—not why is this happening, but what is this here to teach me?—it puts you in the place and space to get the lesson you need.
My friend Eckhart Tolle, who's written this wonderful book called A New Earth that's all about letting the awareness of who you are stimulate everything that you do, he puts it like this: He says, don't react against a bad situation; merge with that situation instead. And the solution will arise from the challenge. Because surrendering yourself doesn't mean giving up; it means acting with responsibility.
Many of you know that, as President Hennessy said, I started this school in Africa. And I founded the school, where I'm trying to give South African girls a shot at a future like yours—Stanford. And I spent five years making sure that school would be as beautiful as the students. I wanted every girl to feel her worth reflected in her surroundings. So, I checked every blueprint, I picked every pillow. I was looking at the grout in between the bricks. I knew every thread count of the sheets. I chose every girl from the villages, from nine provinces. And yet, last fall, I was faced with a crisis I had never anticipated. I was told that one of the dorm matrons was suspected of sexual abuse.
That was, as you can imagine, devastating news. First, I cried—actually, I sobbed—for about half an hour. And then I said, let's get to it; that's all you get, a half an hour. You need to focus on the now, what you need to do now. So, I contacted a child trauma specialist. I put together a team of investigators. I made sure the girls had counseling and support. And Gayle and I got on a plane and flew to South Africa.
And the whole time I kept asking that question: What is this here to teach me? And, as difficult as that experience has been, I got a lot of lessons. I understand now the mistakes I made, because I had been paying attention to all of the wrong things. I'd built that school from the outside in, when what really mattered was the inside out.
So, it's a lesson that applies to all of our lives as a whole. What matters most is what's inside. What matters most is the sense of integrity, of quality and beauty. I got that lesson. And what I know is that the girls came away with something, too. They have emerged from this more resilient and knowing that their voices have power.
And their resilience and spirit have given me more than I could ever give to them, which leads me to my final lesson—the one about finding happiness—which we could talk about all day, but I know you have other wacky things to do.
Not a small topic this is, finding happiness. But in some ways I think it's the simplest of all. Gwendolyn Brooks wrote a poem for her children. It's called "Speech to the Young : Speech to the Progress-Toward." And she says at the end, "Live not for battles won. / Live not for the-end-of-the-song. / Live in the along." She's saying, like Eckhart Tolle, that you have to live for the present. You have to be in the moment. Whatever has happened to you in your past has no power over this present moment, because life is now.
But I think she's also saying, be a part of something. Don't live for yourself alone. This is what I know for sure: In order to be truly happy, you must live along with and you have to stand for something larger than yourself. Because life is a reciprocal exchange. To move forward you have to give back. And to me, that is the greatest lesson of life. To be happy, you have to give something back.
I know you know that, because that's a lesson that's woven into the very fabric of this university. It's a lesson that Jane and Leland Stanford got and one they've bequeathed to you. Because all of you know the story of how this great school came to be, how the Stanfords lost their only child to typhoid at the age of 15. They had every right and they had every reason to turn their backs against the world at that time, but instead, they channeled their grief and their pain into an act of grace. Within a year of their son's death, they had made the founding grant for this great school, pledging to do for other people's children what they were not able to do for their own boy.
The lesson here is clear, and that is, if you're hurting, you need to help somebody ease their hurt. If you're in pain, help somebody else's pain. And when you're in a mess, you get yourself out of the mess helping somebody out of theirs. And in the process, you get to become a member of what I call the greatest fellowship of all, the sorority of compassion and the fraternity of service.
The Stanfords had suffered the worst thing any mom and dad can ever endure, yet they understood that helping others is the way we help ourselves. And this wisdom is increasingly supported by scientific and sociological research. It's no longer just woo-woo soft-skills talk. There's actually a helper's high, a spiritual surge you gain from serving others. So, if you want to feel good, you have to go out and do some good.
But when you do good, I hope you strive for more than just the good feeling that service provides, because I know this for sure, that doing good actually makes you better. So, whatever field you choose, if you operate from the paradigm of service, I know your life will have more value and you will be happy.
I was always happy doing my talk show, but that happiness reached a depth of fulfillment, of joy, that I really can't describe to you or measure when I stopped just being on TV and looking at TV as a job and decided to use television, to use it and not have it use me, to use it as a platform to serve my viewers. That alone changed the trajectory of my success.
So, I know this—that whether you're an actor, you offer your talent in the way that most inspires art. If you're an anatomist, you look at your gift as knowledge and service to healing. Whether you've been called, as so many of you here today getting doctorates and other degrees, to the professions of business, law, engineering, humanities, science, medicine, if you choose to offer your skills and talent in service, when you choose the paradigm of service, looking at life through that paradigm, it turns everything you do from a job into a gift. And I know you haven't spent all this time at Stanford just to go out and get a job.
You've been enriched in countless ways. There's no better way to make your mark on the world and to share that abundance with others. My constant prayer for myself is to be used in service for the greater good.
So, let me end with one of my favorite quotes from Martin Luther King. Dr. King said, "Not everybody can be famous." And I don't know, but everybody today seems to want to be famous.
But fame is a trip. People follow you to the bathroom, listen to you pee. It's just—try to pee quietly. It doesn't matter, they come out and say, "Ohmigod, it's you. You peed."
That's the fame trip, so I don't know if you want that.
So, Dr. King said, "Not everybody can be famous. But everybody can be great, because greatness is determined by service." Those of you who are history scholars may know the rest of that passage. He said, "You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You don't have to know about Plato or Aristotle to serve. You don't have to know Einstein's theory of relativity to serve. You don't have to know the second theory of thermodynamics in physics to serve. You only need a heart full of grace and a soul generated by love."
In a few moments, you'll all be officially Stanford's '08.
You have the heart and the smarts to go with it. And it's up to you to decide, really, where will you now use those gifts? You've got the diploma, so go out and get the lessons, 'cause I know great things are sure to come.
You know, I've always believed that everything is better when you share it, so before I go, I wanted to share a graduation gift with you. Underneath your seats you'll find two of my favorite books. Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth is my current book club selection. Our New Earth webcast has been downloaded 30 million times with that book. And Daniel Pink's A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future has reassured me I'm in the right direction.
I really wanted to give you cars but I just couldn't pull that off! Congratulations, '08!
Thank you. Thank you.
In the fall session of English 12a we watched three movies. The movie, Unbroken went with our summer reading assignment, the movie, Peaceful Warrior ties in with the classes theme of "presence" and personal statement, and the movie, Groundhog Day bands in with our, "Value of Life Unit."
Practicing research based writing, please pull one to two direct and/or indirect quotes from Unbroken, Peaceful Warrior, and Groundhog Day which you found interesting and/or helpful in class.
How to correctly cite the Unbroken, Peaceful Warrior, and Groundhog Day using MLA format:
Try using www.easybib.com
Groundhog Day. Dir. Harold Ramis. Perf. Bill Murray, Andie MacDowell. Columbia Pictures, 1993. Film.
Unbroken. Dir. Angelina Jolie. Perf. Jack O'Connell, Miyavi, Domhnall Gleeson. 3 Arts Entertainment, 2014. Film.
Peaceful Warrior. Dir. Victor Salva. Perf. Nick Nolty, Scott Mechlowicz. DEJ Productions, 2006. Film.
Try using www.easybib.com
Groundhog Day. Dir. Harold Ramis. Perf. Bill Murray, Andie MacDowell. Columbia Pictures, 1993. Film.
Unbroken. Dir. Angelina Jolie. Perf. Jack O'Connell, Miyavi, Domhnall Gleeson. 3 Arts Entertainment, 2014. Film.
Peaceful Warrior. Dir. Victor Salva. Perf. Nick Nolty, Scott Mechlowicz. DEJ Productions, 2006. Film.
Unbroken Quotes:
“The paradox of vengefulness is that it makes men dependent upon those who have harmed them, believing that their release from pain will come only when their tormentors suffer.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“Dignity is as essential to human life as water, food, and oxygen. The stubborn retention of it, even in the face of extreme physical hardship, can hold a man's soul in his body long past the point at which the body should have surrendered it.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“A lifetime of glory is worth a moment of pain. Louie thought: Let go.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“Without dignity, identity is erased.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“What God asks of men, said [Billy] Graham, is faith. His invisibility is the truest test of that faith. To know who sees him, God makes himself unseen.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“When he thought of his history, what resonated with him now was not all that he had suffered but the divine love that he believed had intervened to save him.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“A lifetime of glory is worth a moment of pain.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption men had been adrift for twenty-seven days. […] The men's bodies were pocked with salt sores, and their lips were so swollen that they pressed into their nostrils and chins. (Prologue.2)
Ouch—this is painful. And the prologue only hints at the situations Louie and his pals are going to have to push through in order to survive. But this is enough to know that this is about as far from Gilligan's Island as we're going to get.
Confident that he was clever, resourceful, and bold enough to escape any predicament, [Louie] was almost incapable of discouragement. When history carried him into war, this resilient optimism would define him. (1.1.22)
Well, it doesn't get much more black-and-white than that. "Resilient optimism" is perhaps the best trait to have when you are trying to persevere through difficult times.
To expand his lung capacity, [Louie] ran to the public pool at Redondo Beach, dove to the bottom, grabbed the drain plug, and just floated there, hanging on a little longer each time. Eventually, he could stay underwater for three minutes and forty-five seconds. (1.2.12)
Once again, we see how Louie's teenage perseverance serves to save his life later on in the war. If he hadn't been so persistent as a teen, he probably would have drowned when the Green Hornet crashed.
“The paradox of vengefulness is that it makes men dependent upon those who have harmed them, believing that their release from pain will come only when their tormentors suffer.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“Dignity is as essential to human life as water, food, and oxygen. The stubborn retention of it, even in the face of extreme physical hardship, can hold a man's soul in his body long past the point at which the body should have surrendered it.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“A lifetime of glory is worth a moment of pain. Louie thought: Let go.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“Without dignity, identity is erased.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“What God asks of men, said [Billy] Graham, is faith. His invisibility is the truest test of that faith. To know who sees him, God makes himself unseen.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“When he thought of his history, what resonated with him now was not all that he had suffered but the divine love that he believed had intervened to save him.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
“A lifetime of glory is worth a moment of pain.”
― Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption men had been adrift for twenty-seven days. […] The men's bodies were pocked with salt sores, and their lips were so swollen that they pressed into their nostrils and chins. (Prologue.2)
Ouch—this is painful. And the prologue only hints at the situations Louie and his pals are going to have to push through in order to survive. But this is enough to know that this is about as far from Gilligan's Island as we're going to get.
Confident that he was clever, resourceful, and bold enough to escape any predicament, [Louie] was almost incapable of discouragement. When history carried him into war, this resilient optimism would define him. (1.1.22)
Well, it doesn't get much more black-and-white than that. "Resilient optimism" is perhaps the best trait to have when you are trying to persevere through difficult times.
To expand his lung capacity, [Louie] ran to the public pool at Redondo Beach, dove to the bottom, grabbed the drain plug, and just floated there, hanging on a little longer each time. Eventually, he could stay underwater for three minutes and forty-five seconds. (1.2.12)
Once again, we see how Louie's teenage perseverance serves to save his life later on in the war. If he hadn't been so persistent as a teen, he probably would have drowned when the Green Hornet crashed.
Peaceful Warrior Quotes
Socrates: Where are you?
Dan Millman: Here.
Socrates: What time is it?
Dan Millman: Now.
Socrates: What are you?
Dan Millman: This moment.
Dan Millman: The journey is what brings us happiness not the destination
Dan Millman: Life has just three rules?
Socrates: And you already know them...
Dan Millman: Paradox, humour, and change.
Socrates: Paradox...
Dan Millman: Life is a mystery. Don't waste time trying to figure it out.
Socrates: Humour...
Dan Millman: Keep a sense of humour, especially about yourself. It is a strength beyond all measure.
Socrates: Change...
Dan Millman: Know that nothing stays the same.
Socrates: I call myself a Peaceful Warrior... because the battles we fight are on the inside
Socrates: A warrior does not give up what he loves, he finds the love in what he does
Socrates: Everything has a purpose, even this, and it's up to you to find it.
Socrates: There is no starting or stopping - only doing.
Socrates: Death isn't sad. The sad thing is: most people don't live at all.
Socrates: Sometimes you have to lose your mind before you come to your senses.
Socrates: I think you should continue your training as a gymnast. A warrior does not give up what he loves, Dan. He finds the love in what he does.
Dan Millman: Look at me! I have a metal rod in my leg.
Socrates: A warrior is not about perfection, or victory, or invulnerability. He's about absolute vulnerability. That's the only true courage.
Dan Millman: What kind of training you think I could do? I just had an accident!
Socrates: The accident is your training. Life is choice. You can choose to be a victim or anything else you'd like to be.
Dan Millman: Just ignore what happened to me?
Socrates: A warrior acts, only a fool reacts.
Dan Millman: What if I can't do it?
Socrates: That's the future. Throw it out.
Dan Millman: Well, how would we start?
Socrates: There is no starting or stopping, only doing.
Socrates: This moment is the only thing that matters.
Socrates: Those who are the hardest to love, need it the most
Socrates: Everyone wants to tell you what to do and what's good for you. They don't want you to find your own answers, they want you to believe theirs.
Dan Millman: Let me guess, and you want me to believe yours.
Socrates: No, I want you to stop gathering information from the outside and start gathering it from the inside.
Socrates: People are not theirs thoughts, they think they are, and it brings them all kinds of sadness.
Dan Millman: You're out of your mind!
Socrates: And it's taken me a lifetime of practice.
Socrates: It's the journey, not the destination.
Socrates: There's no greater purpose than service to others.
Dan Millman: The ones who are hardest to love are usually the ones who need it the most.
Socrates: A warrior is not about perfection or victory or invulnerability. He's about absolute vulnerability.
Dan Millman: I took for granted what I could do. I was sloppy with my life; I'm scared but I feel like I got rid of all the old stuff and it was the right thing to do.
Socrates: Do you know what's the difference between me and you?
Socrates: You practice gymnastics, I practice everything!
Dan Millman: Here.
Socrates: What time is it?
Dan Millman: Now.
Socrates: What are you?
Dan Millman: This moment.
Dan Millman: The journey is what brings us happiness not the destination
Dan Millman: Life has just three rules?
Socrates: And you already know them...
Dan Millman: Paradox, humour, and change.
Socrates: Paradox...
Dan Millman: Life is a mystery. Don't waste time trying to figure it out.
Socrates: Humour...
Dan Millman: Keep a sense of humour, especially about yourself. It is a strength beyond all measure.
Socrates: Change...
Dan Millman: Know that nothing stays the same.
Socrates: I call myself a Peaceful Warrior... because the battles we fight are on the inside
Socrates: A warrior does not give up what he loves, he finds the love in what he does
Socrates: Everything has a purpose, even this, and it's up to you to find it.
Socrates: There is no starting or stopping - only doing.
Socrates: Death isn't sad. The sad thing is: most people don't live at all.
Socrates: Sometimes you have to lose your mind before you come to your senses.
Socrates: I think you should continue your training as a gymnast. A warrior does not give up what he loves, Dan. He finds the love in what he does.
Dan Millman: Look at me! I have a metal rod in my leg.
Socrates: A warrior is not about perfection, or victory, or invulnerability. He's about absolute vulnerability. That's the only true courage.
Dan Millman: What kind of training you think I could do? I just had an accident!
Socrates: The accident is your training. Life is choice. You can choose to be a victim or anything else you'd like to be.
Dan Millman: Just ignore what happened to me?
Socrates: A warrior acts, only a fool reacts.
Dan Millman: What if I can't do it?
Socrates: That's the future. Throw it out.
Dan Millman: Well, how would we start?
Socrates: There is no starting or stopping, only doing.
Socrates: This moment is the only thing that matters.
Socrates: Those who are the hardest to love, need it the most
Socrates: Everyone wants to tell you what to do and what's good for you. They don't want you to find your own answers, they want you to believe theirs.
Dan Millman: Let me guess, and you want me to believe yours.
Socrates: No, I want you to stop gathering information from the outside and start gathering it from the inside.
Socrates: People are not theirs thoughts, they think they are, and it brings them all kinds of sadness.
Dan Millman: You're out of your mind!
Socrates: And it's taken me a lifetime of practice.
Socrates: It's the journey, not the destination.
Socrates: There's no greater purpose than service to others.
Dan Millman: The ones who are hardest to love are usually the ones who need it the most.
Socrates: A warrior is not about perfection or victory or invulnerability. He's about absolute vulnerability.
Dan Millman: I took for granted what I could do. I was sloppy with my life; I'm scared but I feel like I got rid of all the old stuff and it was the right thing to do.
Socrates: Do you know what's the difference between me and you?
Socrates: You practice gymnastics, I practice everything!
Above...Bill Murray/Letterman begins at 8:55 minutes
What Bill Murray really wants is to be in the NOW! Here and now! No past and no future
Bill Murray plays Phil Connors, a weatherman for a local news station. Every year he goes to Puxatawney, Pennsylvania for the Puxatawney Phil event: commonly recognized as Groundhog Day. You know how it goes. The groundhog comes out. If it sees its shadow, it's six more weeks of winter. If it doesn't, it's spring.
Well, the only problem about going to this event every year for Phil is that he hates it. He hates the cheery people. The little town. The weather. The event. The story. Everything. He hates it. He is a lonely, desolate, forsaken soul. With a great cynical side.
Andie McDowell plays a new manager--err, womanager :)--who goes with Phil to the event, along with Chris Elliot, the cameraman. Phil reports, they tape it, it's a done deal. The end. Phil goes back home. Only one problem. Due to severe weather, the roads have all been closed, leaving only one option: Stay in Puxatawney until the storm blows over. So, Phil heads back to his cheery hotel, and tucks in for a dreaded nap. But when he wakes the next morning, something odd happens. The day is the exact same day as before. It is Groundhog Day. Again. Phil panics as he finds everything exactly the same as it was the day before. He knows everything that is going to happen. He shrugs it off as a weird case of deja-vu and heads back to sleep. But when he wakes up, alas! The day is...yesterday. Again. Technically.
So Phil comes to terms with the fact that there is now way out of this small little town. He tries everything. He steps in front of a moving car. He electrocutes himself. He jumps off a building. All to no avail. Oh, he dies, all right. But the next day he's back and it's Groundhog Day again.
Part of what makes "Groundhog Day" so excellent is the story. The characters and actors alone are great enough to recommend this movie, but the truth is, I cannot think of a better story to throw someone like Bill Murray into. He uses his smart-alecky ways to a new extreme. His character is a bit like Scrooge from the tale "A Christmas Story," which is ironic, because Murray was in a parody on Scrooge's tale called "Scrooged." Anyway. Bill Murray is perfect as the irreverent and cynical Phil. Everything he does he carries out with a dumb, "I'm-smarter-than-you" face. He thinks himself better than everyone else. He thinks he is smart by skipping the big Holiday ordeal. It is all so stupid to him. But, as this story teaches us, having an attitude like that can get you in big trouble.
Harold Ramis, director of "Analyze This," star of "Stripes," directed "Groundhog Day." Bill and he are old pals, and it sure shows. I bet they had a great time making this movie. But what is good about it is that while making a fun movie they didn't forget to come up with an interesting and audience-catching tale.
Another thing that is great about "Groundhog Day" is that Phil Connors does what we would do. For example: When he finds out he has this ability to repeat the same day over and over, he does things the average person would do. The human weakness. Too many comedies with the same formula don't try to exploit this human weakness, but "Groundhog Day" does. We see Phil memorize the steps to successfully robbing an armored truck filled with cash. But the reason he can go to bed with a clear conscience is because he knows the next day that everything will be back to normal again. He will never have robbed the truck, never have bought a Ferarri, etc. Phil does what WE would do, and that is one importance aspect of "Groundhog Day." I would never rob an armored truck, but if I was stuck living the same day over and over, it would do no harm to take the cash - it would be back in the truck in the morning! So, I might do that. (although my conscience would still get in the way.) There was a little comedy with John Candy named "Delirious." It was about a soap opera writer getting trapped in his own world. And everything he writes on his typewriter comes true. While the movie was good, and pretty interesting, there were so many things Candy could have done with the ability to create and control any - and every- thing, and he didn't do them. I think that's where "Groundhog Day" steps in, filling in the blanks. There's nothing I love more than watching a comedy where the main character divulges into the human nature - in other words, I love watching the character do something the average human would do when given the power(s). And that's exactly what Phil does in "Groundhog Day."
Well, the only problem about going to this event every year for Phil is that he hates it. He hates the cheery people. The little town. The weather. The event. The story. Everything. He hates it. He is a lonely, desolate, forsaken soul. With a great cynical side.
Andie McDowell plays a new manager--err, womanager :)--who goes with Phil to the event, along with Chris Elliot, the cameraman. Phil reports, they tape it, it's a done deal. The end. Phil goes back home. Only one problem. Due to severe weather, the roads have all been closed, leaving only one option: Stay in Puxatawney until the storm blows over. So, Phil heads back to his cheery hotel, and tucks in for a dreaded nap. But when he wakes the next morning, something odd happens. The day is the exact same day as before. It is Groundhog Day. Again. Phil panics as he finds everything exactly the same as it was the day before. He knows everything that is going to happen. He shrugs it off as a weird case of deja-vu and heads back to sleep. But when he wakes up, alas! The day is...yesterday. Again. Technically.
So Phil comes to terms with the fact that there is now way out of this small little town. He tries everything. He steps in front of a moving car. He electrocutes himself. He jumps off a building. All to no avail. Oh, he dies, all right. But the next day he's back and it's Groundhog Day again.
Part of what makes "Groundhog Day" so excellent is the story. The characters and actors alone are great enough to recommend this movie, but the truth is, I cannot think of a better story to throw someone like Bill Murray into. He uses his smart-alecky ways to a new extreme. His character is a bit like Scrooge from the tale "A Christmas Story," which is ironic, because Murray was in a parody on Scrooge's tale called "Scrooged." Anyway. Bill Murray is perfect as the irreverent and cynical Phil. Everything he does he carries out with a dumb, "I'm-smarter-than-you" face. He thinks himself better than everyone else. He thinks he is smart by skipping the big Holiday ordeal. It is all so stupid to him. But, as this story teaches us, having an attitude like that can get you in big trouble.
Harold Ramis, director of "Analyze This," star of "Stripes," directed "Groundhog Day." Bill and he are old pals, and it sure shows. I bet they had a great time making this movie. But what is good about it is that while making a fun movie they didn't forget to come up with an interesting and audience-catching tale.
Another thing that is great about "Groundhog Day" is that Phil Connors does what we would do. For example: When he finds out he has this ability to repeat the same day over and over, he does things the average person would do. The human weakness. Too many comedies with the same formula don't try to exploit this human weakness, but "Groundhog Day" does. We see Phil memorize the steps to successfully robbing an armored truck filled with cash. But the reason he can go to bed with a clear conscience is because he knows the next day that everything will be back to normal again. He will never have robbed the truck, never have bought a Ferarri, etc. Phil does what WE would do, and that is one importance aspect of "Groundhog Day." I would never rob an armored truck, but if I was stuck living the same day over and over, it would do no harm to take the cash - it would be back in the truck in the morning! So, I might do that. (although my conscience would still get in the way.) There was a little comedy with John Candy named "Delirious." It was about a soap opera writer getting trapped in his own world. And everything he writes on his typewriter comes true. While the movie was good, and pretty interesting, there were so many things Candy could have done with the ability to create and control any - and every- thing, and he didn't do them. I think that's where "Groundhog Day" steps in, filling in the blanks. There's nothing I love more than watching a comedy where the main character divulges into the human nature - in other words, I love watching the character do something the average human would do when given the power(s). And that's exactly what Phil does in "Groundhog Day."
Quotes from Groundhog Day
Phil: Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today.
Phil: Do you ever have déjà vu, Mrs. Lancaster?
Mrs. Lancaster: I don't think so, but I could check with the kitchen.
Phil: What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?
Ralph: That about sums it up for me.
Ned: Phil? Hey, Phil? Phil! Phil Connors? Phil Connors, I thought that was you!
Phil: Hi, how you doing? Thanks for watching.
[Starts to walk away]
Ned: Hey, hey! Now, don't you tell me you don't remember me because I sure as heckfire remember you.
Phil: Not a chance.
Ned: Ned... Ryerson. "Needlenose Ned"? "Ned the Head"? C'mon, buddy. Case Western High. Ned Ryerson: I did the whistling belly-button trick at the high school talent show? Bing! Ned Ryerson: got the shingles real bad senior year, almost didn't graduate? Bing, again. Ned Ryerson: I dated your sister Mary Pat a couple times until you told me not to anymore? Well?
Phil: Ned Ryerson?
Ned: Bing!
Phil: Bing.
Phil: You want a prediction about the weather, you're asking the wrong Phil. I'll give you a winter prediction: It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life.
D.J. #1: Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today.
D.J. #2: It's coooold out there every day. What is this, Miami Beach?
D.J. #1: Not hardly. And you know, you can expect hazardous travel later today with that, you know, that, uh, that blizzard thing.
D.J. #2: [mockingly] That blizzard - thing. That blizzard - thing. Oh, well, here's the report! The National Weather Service is calling for a "big blizzard thing!"
D.J. #1: Yessss, they are. But you know, there's another reason why today is especially exciting.
D.J. #2: Especially cold!
D.J. #1: Especially cold, okay, but the big question on everybody's lips...
D.J. #2: On their chapped lips...
D.J. #1: On their chapped lips, right: Do ya think Phil is gonna come out and see his shadow?
D.J. #2: Punxsutawney Phil!
D.J. #1: That's right, woodchuck-chuckers - it's...
D.J. #1, D.J. #2: [in unison] GROUNDHOG DAY!
Phil: [talking to a sleeping Rita] I think you're the kindest, sweetest, prettiest person I've ever met in my life. I've never seen anyone that's nicer to people than you are. The first time I saw you... something happened to me. I never told you but... I knew that I wanted to hold you as hard as I could. I don't deserve someone like you. But if I ever could, I swear I would love you for the rest of my life.
Rita: Did you say something?
Phil: Good night.
Ned: Phil?
Phil: Ned?
[Punches Ned in the face]
Phil: I'm a god.
Rita: You're God?
Phil: I'm a god. I'm not *the* God... I don't think.
[Phil Connors is stopped by the police after some crazy driving]
Phil: Yeah, three cheeseburgers, two large fries, two chocolate shakes and one large coke.
Ralph: [to Phil] And some flapjacks.
Phil: [to Cop] Too early for flapjacks?
Phil: This is one time where television really fails to capture the true excitement of a large squirrel predicting the weather.
Rita: Do you every have déjà vu?
Phil: Didn't you just ask me that?
Phil: When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.
Phil Connors: This is pitiful. A thousand people freezing their butts off waiting to worship a rat. What a hype. Groundhog Day used to mean something in this town. They used to pull the hog out, and they used to eat it. You're hypocrites, all of you!
Rita: [as Phil kisses Rita over and over discovering that he has finally passed Groundhog Day] Phil, why weren't you like this last night? You just fell asleep.
Phil: It was the end of a VERY long day.
Phil: Do you know what today is?
Rita: No, what?
Phil: Today is tomorrow. It happened.
Phil: I was in the Virgin Islands once. I met a girl. We ate lobster, drank piña coladas. At sunset, we made love like sea otters.
[Ralph and Gus snort]
Phil: *That* was a pretty good day. Why couldn't I get *that* day over, and over, and over...
Phil: It's the same thing your whole life: "Clean up your room. Stand up straight. Pick up your feet. Take it like a man. Be nice to your sister. Don't mix beer and wine, ever." Oh yeah: "Don't drive on the railroad track."
Gus: Well, Phil, that's one I happen to agree with.
Phil: I have been stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned.
Rita: Oh, really?
Phil: ...and every morning I wake up without a scratch on me, not a dent in the fender... I am an immortal.
Phil: [Holding Phil the Groundhog behind the wheel] Don't drive angry. Don't drive angry!
[Driving down the railroad tracks toward an approaching train]
Phil: I'm betting he's going to swerve first.
Rita: What should we drink to?
Phil: I'd like to say a prayer and drink to world peace.
Phil: There is no way that this winter is *ever* going to end as long as this groundhog keeps seeing his shadow. I don't see any other way out. He's got to be stopped. And I have to stop him.
Felix's Wife: Dr. Connors. I want to thank you for fixing Felix's back. He can even help around the house again.
Phil: I'm sorry to hear that, Felix.
Rita: [Phil has described several people in the diner] What about me, Phil? Do you know me too?
Phil: I know all about you. You like producing, but you hope for more than Channel 9 Pittsburgh.
Rita: Well, everyone knows that!
Phil: You like boats, but not the ocean. You go to a lake in the summer with your family up in the mountains. There's a long wooden dock and a boathouse with boards missing from the roof, and a place you used to crawl underneath to be alone. You're a sucker for French poetry and rhinestones. You're very generous. You're kind to strangers and children, and when you stand in the snow you look like an angel.
Rita: [in wonder] How are you doing this?
Phil: I told you. I wake up every day, right here, right in Punxsutawney, and it's always February 2nd, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Phil: So, did you sleep OK without me? You tossed and turned, didn't you?
Rita: You're incredible.
Phil: Who told you?
Phil: Why are you here?
Rita: You said stay so I stayed.
Phil: I can't even make a collie stay.
Piano Teacher: Not bad... Mr. Connors, you say this is your first lesson?
Phil: Yes, but my father was a piano *mover*, so...
Phil: Come on, *all* the long distance lines are down? What about the satellite? Is it snowing in space? Don't you have some kind of a line that you keep open for emergencies or for celebrities? I'm both. I'm a celebrity in an emergency.
Man in Hallway: Morning. Off to see the groundhog?
Phil: Yeah.
Man in Hallway: Think it'll be an early spring?
Phil: Didn't we do this yesterday?
Man in Hallway: I don't know what you mean.
Phil: [slams him against the wall] Don't mess with me, pork chop. What day is this?
Man in Hallway: It's February 2nd. Groundhog Day.
Phil: Yeah. I'm sorry. You know, I thought it was yesterday.
[laughs]
Man in Hallway: Oh.
[chuckles nervously]
Rita: This day was perfect. You couldn't have planned a day like this.
Phil: Well, you can. It just takes an awful lot of work.
[sitting outside the local bank]
Phil: A gust of wind.
[a gust of wind blows]
Phil: A dog barks.
[a dog barks in the distance]
Phil: Cue the truck.
[an armored truck drives up]
Phil: Exit Herman; walk out into the bank.
[Herman gets out of the armored truck and walks into the bank]
Phil: Exit Felix, and stand there with a not-so-bright look on your face.
[Felix gets out of truck and stands there]
Phil: All right, Doris, come on. Hey, fix your bra, honey... That's better.
[Doris walks up fixing her outfit]
Phil: [impersonating Doris] Felix.
[Doris says, "Felix"]
Phil: [impersonating Felix] How ya doin' Doris?
[Felix asks Doris a question]
Phil: [impersonating Doris] Can I have a roll of quarters?
[Doris asks Felix for a roll of quarters]
Phil: [Phil stands up and begins to walk towards the armored car, counting to himself]
Phil: 10, 9, 8, car...
[a car drives in front of Phil]
Phil: ...6, 5, quarters...
[roll of quarters breaks open, hitting the ground]
Phil: ...3, 2...
[Phil reaches over Felix and takes a bag of money out of the back of the armored truck]
Herman: Felix, did I bring out two bags or one?
Felix: I dunno.
[scratches his head]
Ned: So what are you doing for dinner?
Phil: Umm... something else.
Rita: It's beautiful. I don't know what to say.
Phil: I do. Whatever happens tomorrow, or for the rest of my life, I'm happy now... because I love you.
[after Phil has driven the truck he has stolen off a cliff to kill both himself and Punxsutawney Phil]
Larry: He... might be okay.
[the truck explodes in a fireball]
Larry: Well, no. Probably not now.
Rita: Believe it or not, I studied nineteenth-century French poetry.
Phil: La fille que j'aimera Sera comme bon vin Qui se bonifiera Un peux chaques matin
Rita: You speak French?
Phil: Oui.
Phil Connors: Excuse me, where is everybody going?
Fan on Street: To Gobbler's Knob. It's Groundhog Day.
Phil Connors: It's still just once a year, isn't it?
Phil: Ned, I would love to stay here and talk with you... but I'm not going to.
[to Rita about Phil]
Larry: Did he actually call himself "the talent"?
Rita: I like to see a man of advancing years throwing caution to the wind. It's inspiring in a way.
Phil: My years are not advancing as fast as you might think.
Phil: It's so beautiful!... Let's live here.
[he kisses Rita]
Phil: We'll rent, to start.
3 of 3 found this interesting | Share thisPhil: Something is... different.
Rita: Good or bad?
Phil: Anything different is good.
Ned: Phil, this is the best day of my life.
Phil: Mine too.
Rita: Mine too.
Ned: Where are we going?
Rita: Oh, let's not spoil it!
Phil: I think people place too much emphasis on their careers. I wish we could all live in the mountains at high altitude. That's where I see myself in five years. How about you?
Rita: Oh, I agree. I just like to go with the flow. See where it leads me.
Phil: Well, it's led you here.
Rita: Mm hmm. Of course it's about a million miles from where I started out in college.
Phil: You weren't in broadcasting or journalism?
Rita: Uh unh. Believe it or not, I studied 19th-century French poetry.
Phil: [laughs] What a waste of time! I mean, for someone else that would be an incredible waste of time. It's so bold of you to choose that. It's incredible; you must have been a very very strong person.
Mrs. Lancaster: [on the second day] Will you be checking out today, Mr. Connors?
Phil: [hesitantly] Change of departure today:... Eighty percent?... seventy-five/eighty?
Ned: Do you have life insurance, Phil? Because if you do, you could always use a little more, right? I mean, who couldn't? But you wanna know something? I got the feeling...
[whistles]
Ned: ... you ain't got any. Am I right or am I right? Or am I right? Am I right?
3 of 3 found this interesting | Share thisPhil: To the groundhog.
Rita: I always drink to world peace.
Phil: I killed myself so many times I don't even exist anymore.
Psychiatrist: That's an unusual problem, Mr. Connors. Uh, Most of my work is with couples, families. I have an alcoholic now.
Phil: Well you went to college, right? I mean, it wasn't veterinary psychology, was it? Didn't you take some kind of course that covered this stuff?
Psychiatrist: Yeah, sort of, I guess. Uh, abnormal psychology.
Phil: So, what do I do?
Psychiatrist: I think we should meet again. How's tomorrow for you?
[Phil begins punching himself in the head through pillow]
Psychiatrist: Is that not good?
Phil: You wanna throw up here, or you wanna throw up in the car?
Ralph: I think... both.
Man in Hallway: Think it'll be an early spring?
Phil: Winter, slumbering in the open air, wears on its smiling face a dream... of spring. Ciao.
Man in Hallway: Ciao.
Phil: I am not making it up. I am asking you for help.
Rita: Okay, what do you want me to do?
Phil: I don't know. You're a producer. Come up with something.
Rita: Are you drunk or something?
Phil: Drunk is more fun.
Phil: [Does a double take at Larry] Wow! Looking *foxy* tonight man! Hey, is your troop gonna be selling cookies again this year?
Larry: [Sarcastically] Oh that's so funny Phil!
Larry: [about Phil] He's out of his gourd.
Phil: I don't suppose there's any chance of a espresso or cappuccino?
Mrs. Lancaster: [confused look] Oh, I don't know...
Phil: [turns away, to self] ... how to /spell/ espresso or cappuccino.
Rita: Would you like to come to dinner with Larry and me?
Phil: No thank you. I've seen Larry eat.
Mrs. Lancaster: Did you sleep well, Mr. Connors?
Phil: I slept alone, Mrs. Lancaster.
Phil: Can I have another one of these with some booze in it?
Phil: Can I be serious with you with you for a minute?
Rita: I don't know. Can you?
Phil: Can I talk to you about a matter that is not work-related?
Rita: You never talk about work.
Rita: What did you do today?
Phil: Oh, same-old same-old.
Gus: Phil? Like the groundhog Phil?
Phil: Yeah, like the groundhog Phil.
Gus: Look out for your shadow there, buddy.
Phil: Morons, your bus is leaving.
Phil: Nancy: she works in the dress shop and makes noises like a chipmunk when she gets *real* excited.
Nancy: Hey!
Phil: It's true.
Phil: Somebody asked me today, "Phil, if you could be anywhere in the world, where would you like to be?" And I said to him, "Prob'ly right here - Elko, Nevada, our nation's high at 79 today." Out in California, they're gonna have some warm weather tomorrow, gang wars, and some *very* overpriced real estate. Up in the Pacific Northwest, as you can see, they're gonna have some very, very tall trees.
Rita: Don't you worry about cholesterol?
Phil: I don't worry about anything.
Phil: Hey commander, what's going on?
State Trooper: There's nothing going on. We're closing the road. Big blizzard moving in.
Phil: What blizzard? It's a couple of flakes.
State Trooper: Don't you listen to the weather? We got a major storm here.
Phil: I make the weather! All of this moisture coming up out of the Gulf is gonna push off to the east and hit Altoona.
State Trooper: Pal, you got that moisture on your head. Now you can go back to Punxsutawney, or you can go ahead and freeze to death. It's your choice. So what's it gonna be?
Phil: [pauses] I'm thinking...
Mrs. Lancaster: [on the first day] Will you be checking out today, Mr. Connors?
Phil: [snidely] Chance of departure today: one hundred percent!
Phil: Well maybe the *real* God uses tricks, you know? Maybe he's not omnipotent. He's just been around so long he knows everything.
Phil: [to Rita] I'm reliving the same day over and over.
[Waking after a night of reading poetry and only chaste sleep with Rita, Phil jumps out of bed, determined to show himself as a new and likable man. He gives a wad of cash to the Old Man beggar and shows up early for the photo shoot, carrying a tray of coffees just the way that Rita and Larry like them, and with Larry's favorite pastry]
Phil: Who wants coffee? Get it while it's hot!
Rita: [surprised] Oh! Thanks, Phil!
Phil: [Handing Larry a lidded styrofoam container of coffee] Larry? Skim milk, two sugar.
Larry: [Also surprised] Yeah. Thanks, Phil!
Phil: Pastry?
[Phil offers the tray to Rita, who looks enticed, but says:]
Rita: No. We're just setting up.
Phil: Pastry, Larry? Take your pick.
Larry: Well, thanks, Phil. Raspberry, great.
Phil: Say, I was just talking with Buster Green, he's the head groundhog honcho. And he said, if we set up over here
[he points his thumb over his shoulder]
Phil: , we might get a better shot. What do you think?
[Rita is still surprised that Phil Connors is being so thoughtful and helpful]
Rita: Sounds good.
Phil: Larry, what do you think?
[It is obvious that Phil has never asked for Larry's opinion in his life, and Larry grins]
Larry: Yeah. Let's go for it.
Rita: [Pleased] Good work, Phil.
Phil: Maybe we'll get lucky. Let me give you a hand with the heavy stuff.
[Phil takes the backpack and news-camera]
Larry: Uh...
Phil: No, no, you got your coffee.
[They start to walk to the "better" spot]
Phil: We never talk, Larry. Do you have kids?
[Rita stares in astonishment, then slowly follows them]
Phil: Uh, Mrs. Lancaster, uh, was anybody looking for me here this morning? Perhaps a state official? Maybe a blue hat, gun, nightstick?
Mrs. Lancaster: Oh, no, no one like that. Will there be?
Phil: Apparently not.
Phil: [holds up his drink for the bartender] Could I have one more of these with some booze in it please?
Rita: You're not a god. You can take my word for it; this is twelve years of Catholic school talking.
Nurse: Sometimes, people just die.
Phil: Not today.
Rita: You're missin' all the fun! These people are great! Some of them have been partyin' all night long! They sing songs 'till they get too cold and then they go sit by the fire and they get warm, and then they come back and sing some more!
Phil: Yeah, they're hicks, Rita!
[to Nancy, about being a photojournalist]
Larry: People just don't understand what is involved in this. This is an art-form! You know, I think that most people just think that I hold a camera and point at stuff, but there is a *heck* of a lot more to it than just that.
Phil: For your information, Hairdo, there is a major network interested in me.
Larry: Yeah, that would be the Home Shopping Network.
Diner Patron: Just put that anywhere, pal! Yeah! Good save!
Buster Green: If you gotta shoot, aim high. I don't wanna hit the groundhog.
Rita: Why would anybody steal a groundhog?
Larry: I can probably think of a couple of reasons... pervert.
Phil: Well, it's Groundhog Day... again... and that must mean that we're up here at Gobbler's Knob waiting for the forecast from the world's most famous groundhog weatherman, Punxsutawney Phil, who's just about to tell us how much more winter we can expect.
[Phil Connors drives (because Ralph and Gus are drunk) right through a mailbox]
Gus: Hey Phil, if we wanted to hit mailboxes we could let Ralph drive.
Phil: People like blood sausage too, people are morons.
Rita: Three hundred and thirty-nine dollars and eighty-eight cents!
Rita: [to Phil] What are you looking for Phil? A date for the weekend?
Rita: It's groundhog time.
Phil: Ned Ryerson?
Ned: BING!
Phil: Yo, mom. Isn't there any hot water?
Mrs. Lancaster: [laughs] Oh, no. There wouldn't be today.
Phil: [laughs sarcastically] Of course not. Silly me.
1 of 1 found this interesting | Share thisElderly Lady whose flat tire Phil fixed: He's the fastest jack in Jefferson County!
Rita: Where were you?
Phil: [referring to Ned] It was awful. A giant leech got me.
[upon seeing its Groundhog Day again]
Phil: What the hell?
Phil: [Upon waking up and realizing his attempt to kill himself failed] Ah, nuts.
Phil: [driving a car on the train tracks] We could do whatever we want.
Larry: Prima Donnas.
Phil: Morons, your bus is leaving.
Phil: [to Rita] Is there anything I can do for you... today?
Phil: Commander, what's going on?
Groundhog Official: There's nothing going on. We're closing the road. Big blizzard moving in.
Phil: What blizzard? It's a couple flakes.
Groundhog Official: Don't you listen to the weather? We got a major storm here.
Phil: I make the weather! All this moisture coming up out of the Gulf will push off to the east and hit Altoona.
Groundhog Official: Pal, you got that moisture on your head. You can go back to Punxsutawney or you can freeze to death. It's your choice. What's it gonna be?
Phil: [pauses] I'm thinking...
Gus: [waiter drops a tray of dishes] Real nice. Just put that anywhere, pal. Yeah.
[laughs]
Ralph: Good save!
Phil: Do you ever have déjà vu, Mrs. Lancaster?
Mrs. Lancaster: I don't think so, but I could check with the kitchen.
Phil: What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?
Ralph: That about sums it up for me.
Ned: Phil? Hey, Phil? Phil! Phil Connors? Phil Connors, I thought that was you!
Phil: Hi, how you doing? Thanks for watching.
[Starts to walk away]
Ned: Hey, hey! Now, don't you tell me you don't remember me because I sure as heckfire remember you.
Phil: Not a chance.
Ned: Ned... Ryerson. "Needlenose Ned"? "Ned the Head"? C'mon, buddy. Case Western High. Ned Ryerson: I did the whistling belly-button trick at the high school talent show? Bing! Ned Ryerson: got the shingles real bad senior year, almost didn't graduate? Bing, again. Ned Ryerson: I dated your sister Mary Pat a couple times until you told me not to anymore? Well?
Phil: Ned Ryerson?
Ned: Bing!
Phil: Bing.
Phil: You want a prediction about the weather, you're asking the wrong Phil. I'll give you a winter prediction: It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life.
D.J. #1: Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today.
D.J. #2: It's coooold out there every day. What is this, Miami Beach?
D.J. #1: Not hardly. And you know, you can expect hazardous travel later today with that, you know, that, uh, that blizzard thing.
D.J. #2: [mockingly] That blizzard - thing. That blizzard - thing. Oh, well, here's the report! The National Weather Service is calling for a "big blizzard thing!"
D.J. #1: Yessss, they are. But you know, there's another reason why today is especially exciting.
D.J. #2: Especially cold!
D.J. #1: Especially cold, okay, but the big question on everybody's lips...
D.J. #2: On their chapped lips...
D.J. #1: On their chapped lips, right: Do ya think Phil is gonna come out and see his shadow?
D.J. #2: Punxsutawney Phil!
D.J. #1: That's right, woodchuck-chuckers - it's...
D.J. #1, D.J. #2: [in unison] GROUNDHOG DAY!
Phil: [talking to a sleeping Rita] I think you're the kindest, sweetest, prettiest person I've ever met in my life. I've never seen anyone that's nicer to people than you are. The first time I saw you... something happened to me. I never told you but... I knew that I wanted to hold you as hard as I could. I don't deserve someone like you. But if I ever could, I swear I would love you for the rest of my life.
Rita: Did you say something?
Phil: Good night.
Ned: Phil?
Phil: Ned?
[Punches Ned in the face]
Phil: I'm a god.
Rita: You're God?
Phil: I'm a god. I'm not *the* God... I don't think.
[Phil Connors is stopped by the police after some crazy driving]
Phil: Yeah, three cheeseburgers, two large fries, two chocolate shakes and one large coke.
Ralph: [to Phil] And some flapjacks.
Phil: [to Cop] Too early for flapjacks?
Phil: This is one time where television really fails to capture the true excitement of a large squirrel predicting the weather.
Rita: Do you every have déjà vu?
Phil: Didn't you just ask me that?
Phil: When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.
Phil Connors: This is pitiful. A thousand people freezing their butts off waiting to worship a rat. What a hype. Groundhog Day used to mean something in this town. They used to pull the hog out, and they used to eat it. You're hypocrites, all of you!
Rita: [as Phil kisses Rita over and over discovering that he has finally passed Groundhog Day] Phil, why weren't you like this last night? You just fell asleep.
Phil: It was the end of a VERY long day.
Phil: Do you know what today is?
Rita: No, what?
Phil: Today is tomorrow. It happened.
Phil: I was in the Virgin Islands once. I met a girl. We ate lobster, drank piña coladas. At sunset, we made love like sea otters.
[Ralph and Gus snort]
Phil: *That* was a pretty good day. Why couldn't I get *that* day over, and over, and over...
Phil: It's the same thing your whole life: "Clean up your room. Stand up straight. Pick up your feet. Take it like a man. Be nice to your sister. Don't mix beer and wine, ever." Oh yeah: "Don't drive on the railroad track."
Gus: Well, Phil, that's one I happen to agree with.
Phil: I have been stabbed, shot, poisoned, frozen, hung, electrocuted, and burned.
Rita: Oh, really?
Phil: ...and every morning I wake up without a scratch on me, not a dent in the fender... I am an immortal.
Phil: [Holding Phil the Groundhog behind the wheel] Don't drive angry. Don't drive angry!
[Driving down the railroad tracks toward an approaching train]
Phil: I'm betting he's going to swerve first.
Rita: What should we drink to?
Phil: I'd like to say a prayer and drink to world peace.
Phil: There is no way that this winter is *ever* going to end as long as this groundhog keeps seeing his shadow. I don't see any other way out. He's got to be stopped. And I have to stop him.
Felix's Wife: Dr. Connors. I want to thank you for fixing Felix's back. He can even help around the house again.
Phil: I'm sorry to hear that, Felix.
Rita: [Phil has described several people in the diner] What about me, Phil? Do you know me too?
Phil: I know all about you. You like producing, but you hope for more than Channel 9 Pittsburgh.
Rita: Well, everyone knows that!
Phil: You like boats, but not the ocean. You go to a lake in the summer with your family up in the mountains. There's a long wooden dock and a boathouse with boards missing from the roof, and a place you used to crawl underneath to be alone. You're a sucker for French poetry and rhinestones. You're very generous. You're kind to strangers and children, and when you stand in the snow you look like an angel.
Rita: [in wonder] How are you doing this?
Phil: I told you. I wake up every day, right here, right in Punxsutawney, and it's always February 2nd, and there's nothing I can do about it.
Phil: So, did you sleep OK without me? You tossed and turned, didn't you?
Rita: You're incredible.
Phil: Who told you?
Phil: Why are you here?
Rita: You said stay so I stayed.
Phil: I can't even make a collie stay.
Piano Teacher: Not bad... Mr. Connors, you say this is your first lesson?
Phil: Yes, but my father was a piano *mover*, so...
Phil: Come on, *all* the long distance lines are down? What about the satellite? Is it snowing in space? Don't you have some kind of a line that you keep open for emergencies or for celebrities? I'm both. I'm a celebrity in an emergency.
Man in Hallway: Morning. Off to see the groundhog?
Phil: Yeah.
Man in Hallway: Think it'll be an early spring?
Phil: Didn't we do this yesterday?
Man in Hallway: I don't know what you mean.
Phil: [slams him against the wall] Don't mess with me, pork chop. What day is this?
Man in Hallway: It's February 2nd. Groundhog Day.
Phil: Yeah. I'm sorry. You know, I thought it was yesterday.
[laughs]
Man in Hallway: Oh.
[chuckles nervously]
Rita: This day was perfect. You couldn't have planned a day like this.
Phil: Well, you can. It just takes an awful lot of work.
[sitting outside the local bank]
Phil: A gust of wind.
[a gust of wind blows]
Phil: A dog barks.
[a dog barks in the distance]
Phil: Cue the truck.
[an armored truck drives up]
Phil: Exit Herman; walk out into the bank.
[Herman gets out of the armored truck and walks into the bank]
Phil: Exit Felix, and stand there with a not-so-bright look on your face.
[Felix gets out of truck and stands there]
Phil: All right, Doris, come on. Hey, fix your bra, honey... That's better.
[Doris walks up fixing her outfit]
Phil: [impersonating Doris] Felix.
[Doris says, "Felix"]
Phil: [impersonating Felix] How ya doin' Doris?
[Felix asks Doris a question]
Phil: [impersonating Doris] Can I have a roll of quarters?
[Doris asks Felix for a roll of quarters]
Phil: [Phil stands up and begins to walk towards the armored car, counting to himself]
Phil: 10, 9, 8, car...
[a car drives in front of Phil]
Phil: ...6, 5, quarters...
[roll of quarters breaks open, hitting the ground]
Phil: ...3, 2...
[Phil reaches over Felix and takes a bag of money out of the back of the armored truck]
Herman: Felix, did I bring out two bags or one?
Felix: I dunno.
[scratches his head]
Ned: So what are you doing for dinner?
Phil: Umm... something else.
Rita: It's beautiful. I don't know what to say.
Phil: I do. Whatever happens tomorrow, or for the rest of my life, I'm happy now... because I love you.
[after Phil has driven the truck he has stolen off a cliff to kill both himself and Punxsutawney Phil]
Larry: He... might be okay.
[the truck explodes in a fireball]
Larry: Well, no. Probably not now.
Rita: Believe it or not, I studied nineteenth-century French poetry.
Phil: La fille que j'aimera Sera comme bon vin Qui se bonifiera Un peux chaques matin
Rita: You speak French?
Phil: Oui.
Phil Connors: Excuse me, where is everybody going?
Fan on Street: To Gobbler's Knob. It's Groundhog Day.
Phil Connors: It's still just once a year, isn't it?
Phil: Ned, I would love to stay here and talk with you... but I'm not going to.
[to Rita about Phil]
Larry: Did he actually call himself "the talent"?
Rita: I like to see a man of advancing years throwing caution to the wind. It's inspiring in a way.
Phil: My years are not advancing as fast as you might think.
Phil: It's so beautiful!... Let's live here.
[he kisses Rita]
Phil: We'll rent, to start.
3 of 3 found this interesting | Share thisPhil: Something is... different.
Rita: Good or bad?
Phil: Anything different is good.
Ned: Phil, this is the best day of my life.
Phil: Mine too.
Rita: Mine too.
Ned: Where are we going?
Rita: Oh, let's not spoil it!
Phil: I think people place too much emphasis on their careers. I wish we could all live in the mountains at high altitude. That's where I see myself in five years. How about you?
Rita: Oh, I agree. I just like to go with the flow. See where it leads me.
Phil: Well, it's led you here.
Rita: Mm hmm. Of course it's about a million miles from where I started out in college.
Phil: You weren't in broadcasting or journalism?
Rita: Uh unh. Believe it or not, I studied 19th-century French poetry.
Phil: [laughs] What a waste of time! I mean, for someone else that would be an incredible waste of time. It's so bold of you to choose that. It's incredible; you must have been a very very strong person.
Mrs. Lancaster: [on the second day] Will you be checking out today, Mr. Connors?
Phil: [hesitantly] Change of departure today:... Eighty percent?... seventy-five/eighty?
Ned: Do you have life insurance, Phil? Because if you do, you could always use a little more, right? I mean, who couldn't? But you wanna know something? I got the feeling...
[whistles]
Ned: ... you ain't got any. Am I right or am I right? Or am I right? Am I right?
3 of 3 found this interesting | Share thisPhil: To the groundhog.
Rita: I always drink to world peace.
Phil: I killed myself so many times I don't even exist anymore.
Psychiatrist: That's an unusual problem, Mr. Connors. Uh, Most of my work is with couples, families. I have an alcoholic now.
Phil: Well you went to college, right? I mean, it wasn't veterinary psychology, was it? Didn't you take some kind of course that covered this stuff?
Psychiatrist: Yeah, sort of, I guess. Uh, abnormal psychology.
Phil: So, what do I do?
Psychiatrist: I think we should meet again. How's tomorrow for you?
[Phil begins punching himself in the head through pillow]
Psychiatrist: Is that not good?
Phil: You wanna throw up here, or you wanna throw up in the car?
Ralph: I think... both.
Man in Hallway: Think it'll be an early spring?
Phil: Winter, slumbering in the open air, wears on its smiling face a dream... of spring. Ciao.
Man in Hallway: Ciao.
Phil: I am not making it up. I am asking you for help.
Rita: Okay, what do you want me to do?
Phil: I don't know. You're a producer. Come up with something.
Rita: Are you drunk or something?
Phil: Drunk is more fun.
Phil: [Does a double take at Larry] Wow! Looking *foxy* tonight man! Hey, is your troop gonna be selling cookies again this year?
Larry: [Sarcastically] Oh that's so funny Phil!
Larry: [about Phil] He's out of his gourd.
Phil: I don't suppose there's any chance of a espresso or cappuccino?
Mrs. Lancaster: [confused look] Oh, I don't know...
Phil: [turns away, to self] ... how to /spell/ espresso or cappuccino.
Rita: Would you like to come to dinner with Larry and me?
Phil: No thank you. I've seen Larry eat.
Mrs. Lancaster: Did you sleep well, Mr. Connors?
Phil: I slept alone, Mrs. Lancaster.
Phil: Can I have another one of these with some booze in it?
Phil: Can I be serious with you with you for a minute?
Rita: I don't know. Can you?
Phil: Can I talk to you about a matter that is not work-related?
Rita: You never talk about work.
Rita: What did you do today?
Phil: Oh, same-old same-old.
Gus: Phil? Like the groundhog Phil?
Phil: Yeah, like the groundhog Phil.
Gus: Look out for your shadow there, buddy.
Phil: Morons, your bus is leaving.
Phil: Nancy: she works in the dress shop and makes noises like a chipmunk when she gets *real* excited.
Nancy: Hey!
Phil: It's true.
Phil: Somebody asked me today, "Phil, if you could be anywhere in the world, where would you like to be?" And I said to him, "Prob'ly right here - Elko, Nevada, our nation's high at 79 today." Out in California, they're gonna have some warm weather tomorrow, gang wars, and some *very* overpriced real estate. Up in the Pacific Northwest, as you can see, they're gonna have some very, very tall trees.
Rita: Don't you worry about cholesterol?
Phil: I don't worry about anything.
Phil: Hey commander, what's going on?
State Trooper: There's nothing going on. We're closing the road. Big blizzard moving in.
Phil: What blizzard? It's a couple of flakes.
State Trooper: Don't you listen to the weather? We got a major storm here.
Phil: I make the weather! All of this moisture coming up out of the Gulf is gonna push off to the east and hit Altoona.
State Trooper: Pal, you got that moisture on your head. Now you can go back to Punxsutawney, or you can go ahead and freeze to death. It's your choice. So what's it gonna be?
Phil: [pauses] I'm thinking...
Mrs. Lancaster: [on the first day] Will you be checking out today, Mr. Connors?
Phil: [snidely] Chance of departure today: one hundred percent!
Phil: Well maybe the *real* God uses tricks, you know? Maybe he's not omnipotent. He's just been around so long he knows everything.
Phil: [to Rita] I'm reliving the same day over and over.
[Waking after a night of reading poetry and only chaste sleep with Rita, Phil jumps out of bed, determined to show himself as a new and likable man. He gives a wad of cash to the Old Man beggar and shows up early for the photo shoot, carrying a tray of coffees just the way that Rita and Larry like them, and with Larry's favorite pastry]
Phil: Who wants coffee? Get it while it's hot!
Rita: [surprised] Oh! Thanks, Phil!
Phil: [Handing Larry a lidded styrofoam container of coffee] Larry? Skim milk, two sugar.
Larry: [Also surprised] Yeah. Thanks, Phil!
Phil: Pastry?
[Phil offers the tray to Rita, who looks enticed, but says:]
Rita: No. We're just setting up.
Phil: Pastry, Larry? Take your pick.
Larry: Well, thanks, Phil. Raspberry, great.
Phil: Say, I was just talking with Buster Green, he's the head groundhog honcho. And he said, if we set up over here
[he points his thumb over his shoulder]
Phil: , we might get a better shot. What do you think?
[Rita is still surprised that Phil Connors is being so thoughtful and helpful]
Rita: Sounds good.
Phil: Larry, what do you think?
[It is obvious that Phil has never asked for Larry's opinion in his life, and Larry grins]
Larry: Yeah. Let's go for it.
Rita: [Pleased] Good work, Phil.
Phil: Maybe we'll get lucky. Let me give you a hand with the heavy stuff.
[Phil takes the backpack and news-camera]
Larry: Uh...
Phil: No, no, you got your coffee.
[They start to walk to the "better" spot]
Phil: We never talk, Larry. Do you have kids?
[Rita stares in astonishment, then slowly follows them]
Phil: Uh, Mrs. Lancaster, uh, was anybody looking for me here this morning? Perhaps a state official? Maybe a blue hat, gun, nightstick?
Mrs. Lancaster: Oh, no, no one like that. Will there be?
Phil: Apparently not.
Phil: [holds up his drink for the bartender] Could I have one more of these with some booze in it please?
Rita: You're not a god. You can take my word for it; this is twelve years of Catholic school talking.
Nurse: Sometimes, people just die.
Phil: Not today.
Rita: You're missin' all the fun! These people are great! Some of them have been partyin' all night long! They sing songs 'till they get too cold and then they go sit by the fire and they get warm, and then they come back and sing some more!
Phil: Yeah, they're hicks, Rita!
[to Nancy, about being a photojournalist]
Larry: People just don't understand what is involved in this. This is an art-form! You know, I think that most people just think that I hold a camera and point at stuff, but there is a *heck* of a lot more to it than just that.
Phil: For your information, Hairdo, there is a major network interested in me.
Larry: Yeah, that would be the Home Shopping Network.
Diner Patron: Just put that anywhere, pal! Yeah! Good save!
Buster Green: If you gotta shoot, aim high. I don't wanna hit the groundhog.
Rita: Why would anybody steal a groundhog?
Larry: I can probably think of a couple of reasons... pervert.
Phil: Well, it's Groundhog Day... again... and that must mean that we're up here at Gobbler's Knob waiting for the forecast from the world's most famous groundhog weatherman, Punxsutawney Phil, who's just about to tell us how much more winter we can expect.
[Phil Connors drives (because Ralph and Gus are drunk) right through a mailbox]
Gus: Hey Phil, if we wanted to hit mailboxes we could let Ralph drive.
Phil: People like blood sausage too, people are morons.
Rita: Three hundred and thirty-nine dollars and eighty-eight cents!
Rita: [to Phil] What are you looking for Phil? A date for the weekend?
Rita: It's groundhog time.
Phil: Ned Ryerson?
Ned: BING!
Phil: Yo, mom. Isn't there any hot water?
Mrs. Lancaster: [laughs] Oh, no. There wouldn't be today.
Phil: [laughs sarcastically] Of course not. Silly me.
1 of 1 found this interesting | Share thisElderly Lady whose flat tire Phil fixed: He's the fastest jack in Jefferson County!
Rita: Where were you?
Phil: [referring to Ned] It was awful. A giant leech got me.
[upon seeing its Groundhog Day again]
Phil: What the hell?
Phil: [Upon waking up and realizing his attempt to kill himself failed] Ah, nuts.
Phil: [driving a car on the train tracks] We could do whatever we want.
Larry: Prima Donnas.
Phil: Morons, your bus is leaving.
Phil: [to Rita] Is there anything I can do for you... today?
Phil: Commander, what's going on?
Groundhog Official: There's nothing going on. We're closing the road. Big blizzard moving in.
Phil: What blizzard? It's a couple flakes.
Groundhog Official: Don't you listen to the weather? We got a major storm here.
Phil: I make the weather! All this moisture coming up out of the Gulf will push off to the east and hit Altoona.
Groundhog Official: Pal, you got that moisture on your head. You can go back to Punxsutawney or you can freeze to death. It's your choice. What's it gonna be?
Phil: [pauses] I'm thinking...
Gus: [waiter drops a tray of dishes] Real nice. Just put that anywhere, pal. Yeah.
[laughs]
Ralph: Good save!
The Benefits of Journaling
I gave the class a journal a day assignment/homework assignment because I know through personal experience that writing a journal five days a week will make an exponential improvement in a person's overall ability to think clearly, read, listen, and write.
Below you will find an additional 100 benefits to journal writing. Please read through some of the benefits below...and see whether or not the shoe actually fits...Have you experienced any of the benefits below? If so, please expound those benefits in your English 12a Final Essay.
The Benefits of Journaling
Stress reduction/ Have you noticed any of these stress-aid benefits? Check below:
your truth better? Take a closer look below:
Eases decision making
I gave the class a journal a day assignment/homework assignment because I know through personal experience that writing a journal five days a week will make an exponential improvement in a person's overall ability to think clearly, read, listen, and write.
Below you will find an additional 100 benefits to journal writing. Please read through some of the benefits below...and see whether or not the shoe actually fits...Have you experienced any of the benefits below? If so, please expound those benefits in your English 12a Final Essay.
The Benefits of Journaling
Stress reduction/ Have you noticed any of these stress-aid benefits? Check below:
- Reduces the scatter in your life
- Increases focus
- Brings stability
- Offers a deeper level of learning, order, action and release
- Holds thoughts still so they can be changed and integrated
- Processes your stuff in a natural and appropriate way
- Releases pent-up thoughts and emotions
- Empowers
- Disentangles thoughts and ideas
- Bridges inner thinking with outer events
- Detaches and lets go of the past
- Allows you to re-experience the past with today's adult mind
- Heals relationships
- Heals the past
- Dignifies all events
- Is honest, trusting, non-judgmental
- Strengthens your sense of yourself
- Balances and harmonizes
- Recalls and reconstructs past events
- Acts as your own counselor
- Integrates peaks and valleys in life
- Soothes troubled memories
- Sees yourself as a larger, important, whole and connected being
- Leverages therapy sessions for better and faster results
- Reveals and tracks patterns and cycles
your truth better? Take a closer look below:
- Builds self confidence and self knowledge
- Records the past
- Brings out natural beauty and wisdom
- Helps you feel better about yourself
- Helps you identify your values
- Reads your own mind
- Aids in connecting causes to effects
- Reveals the depths of who you are
- Reveals outward expression of yet unformed inner impulses
- Creates mystery
- Clarifies thoughts, feelings and behavior
- Reveals your greater potential
- Shifts you to the observer, recorder, counselor level
- Reveals your processes - how you think, learn, create and use intuition
- Creates awareness of beliefs and options so you can change them
- Self-discovery
- Reveals different aspects of self
- Helps you see yourself as an individual
- Connects you to the bigger picture
- Is a close, intimate, accepting, trusting, caring, honest, non-judgmental, perfect friend
- Accesses the unconscious, subconscious and super consciousness
- Finds the missing pieces and the unsaid
- Helps rid you of the masks you wear
- Helps solve the mysteries of life
- Finds more meaning in life
- Enables you to live life to the fullest
- Is fun, playful and sometimes humorous
- Expresses and creates
- Plants seeds
- Starts the sorting and grouping process
- Integrates life experiences and learnings
- Moves you towards wholeness and growth, to who you really are
- Creates more results in life
- Explores your spirituality
- Focuses and clarifies your desires and needs
- Enhances self expression
- Enhances career and community
- Allows freedom of expression
- Offers progressive inner momentum to static unrelated events
- Exercises your mental muscles
- Improves congruency and integrity
- Enhances breakthroughs
- Unfolds the writer in you
- Maximizes time and business efficiency
- Explores night dreams, day dreams and fantasies
- Measures and tracks what is important
Eases decision making
- Offers new perspectives
- Brings things together
- Shows relationships and wholeness instead of separation
creative? check below:- Can be applied to clarify any issue in your life
- Takes so little time to stop, pay attention and listen to yourself
- Meets your needs, style, processing methods
- Caters to left and right brained people
- Has no rules - messiness, typos, poor writing are all OK
- Is often self-starting and motivating and supplies its own energy
- Improves self trust
- Awakens the inner voice
- Directs intention and discernment
- Provides insights
- Improves sensitivity
- Interprets your symbols and dreams
- Increases memory of events
- Teaches you how to write stories
- Soothes troubled memories
- Captures family and personal story
- Stimulates personal growth
- Improves family unity
Importance of Good Business Writing
1. Personal Statement
2. Resume
3. Cover Letter
4. Job Application
Writing skills can help advance your career
Learning and honing business writing skills can have a positive impact on an high school student's career advancement. Effective channels of communication make an organization run smoothly. Professional quality writing being sent through these channels improves productivity and the ability of all functional areas to work together, particularly in an increasingly global workplace where collaboration is the norm.
Persuasion
Sales and marketing professionals are particularly skilled at using the written word to persuade customers to purchase the company’s products and services--or at least pay attention to its advertisements. But everyone in the business world finds it necessary at times to persuade someone else to take an action based on written material they have sent. The chief financial officer of a company makes written recommendations to the chief executive officer about expenditures. Human Resources tries to make a written case for hiring a particular individual to the manager to whom the person will report.
Clarity
Clarity in writing is one of the most difficult skills to master. Word choice comes more easily for some business people than for others. Venture capitalists sometimes receive business plans that are so unclear it is difficult for them to tell what business the company is in. Presumably, expressing it clearly on paper proved too difficult for them.
Professional Courtesy
In this age of text messaging, business communication increasingly comes in a shorthand fashion. Even email has a much less formal style in many companies than a letter. Taken to an extreme, this type of writing can seem lazy. If communication becomes too abrupt, it can send a message that the person receiving the message was not important enough for the sender to take the time to communicate in complete sentences or check spelling and grammar. Conversely, a carefully written email can be more impressive than a letter because it has the added element of rapid transmission--the other person was so important that the sender wanted to make sure the message arrived quickly.
Completeness
Business communication can be ineffective if a document does not completely express its intention. An instruction manual on how to operate machinery, for example, must not have gaps in the sequence of steps or the how-to explanations. The result of incomplete information could be failure to run the machine properly or even cause injury to the equipment operator. A financial report that has the quality of completeness would be one that answers the reader’s questions before he has time to ask them.
Inspiring Confidence
Supervisors and business associates who express themselves well in writing inspire a feeling of confidence in their abilities from employees or colleagues. Sharp writing conveys the impression that a sharp mind composed the words. Sloppy writing, on the other hand, can make others conclude that the creator is not intelligent. Some might even question their job-related competence.
Team Building
Written communication to employees is one way a company shows that it values their contribution and appreciates their efforts. Subtle but strong bonds of teamwork can be built through simple means such as sharing company-wide accomplishments -- sales milestones, for example -- with everyone in the organization. The tone of the communication is particularly important. If it is energetic and positive, the employees will respond to it in an equally positive fashion.
Writing & Communication Skills Are Essential to Business Success & Promotion
Maggie McCormick, Demand Media
Getting ahead in business isn't always about your education, experience and connections. It's important to put forth a professional attitude at all times. Since the art of doing business often involves communicating -- in person, on the phone and in email -- writing and communication skills are essential for business success and promotion.
Writing and Grammar Skills
Everyone lets the occasional typo slip, but you should always review your writing before submission, whether you're sending an email to clients and coworkers or preparing important documents. Stick to the point to avoid wasting the recipient's time. Run any documents through a spelling and grammar checker to catch any mistakes you didn't find. Brush up on common grammatical mistakes, such as writing "your" instead of "you're" or "it's" instead of "its."
Presentation Skills
As you move up in the ranks, you will have to do the occasional presentation, which can range from a product presentation for a large group to a one-on-one presentation of your ideas to your boss. When doing this, focus on the areas that can make the other person's life easier. Be concise. State what you can do for the other person and then respond to all questions, comments or concerns.
Business Etiquette Knowledge
The art of communication also extends to knowledge about common business etiquette. This might range from what you wear to the office to which method you're supposed to use when talking to a manager. The business marketplace is ever-expanding, and you should also learn about the business cultures in other countries as well, particularly if your business does business overseas. For example, in countries like Japan, it's considered impolite to present a business card with just one hand.
1. Personal Statement
2. Resume
3. Cover Letter
4. Job Application
Writing skills can help advance your career
Learning and honing business writing skills can have a positive impact on an high school student's career advancement. Effective channels of communication make an organization run smoothly. Professional quality writing being sent through these channels improves productivity and the ability of all functional areas to work together, particularly in an increasingly global workplace where collaboration is the norm.
Persuasion
Sales and marketing professionals are particularly skilled at using the written word to persuade customers to purchase the company’s products and services--or at least pay attention to its advertisements. But everyone in the business world finds it necessary at times to persuade someone else to take an action based on written material they have sent. The chief financial officer of a company makes written recommendations to the chief executive officer about expenditures. Human Resources tries to make a written case for hiring a particular individual to the manager to whom the person will report.
Clarity
Clarity in writing is one of the most difficult skills to master. Word choice comes more easily for some business people than for others. Venture capitalists sometimes receive business plans that are so unclear it is difficult for them to tell what business the company is in. Presumably, expressing it clearly on paper proved too difficult for them.
Professional Courtesy
In this age of text messaging, business communication increasingly comes in a shorthand fashion. Even email has a much less formal style in many companies than a letter. Taken to an extreme, this type of writing can seem lazy. If communication becomes too abrupt, it can send a message that the person receiving the message was not important enough for the sender to take the time to communicate in complete sentences or check spelling and grammar. Conversely, a carefully written email can be more impressive than a letter because it has the added element of rapid transmission--the other person was so important that the sender wanted to make sure the message arrived quickly.
Completeness
Business communication can be ineffective if a document does not completely express its intention. An instruction manual on how to operate machinery, for example, must not have gaps in the sequence of steps or the how-to explanations. The result of incomplete information could be failure to run the machine properly or even cause injury to the equipment operator. A financial report that has the quality of completeness would be one that answers the reader’s questions before he has time to ask them.
Inspiring Confidence
Supervisors and business associates who express themselves well in writing inspire a feeling of confidence in their abilities from employees or colleagues. Sharp writing conveys the impression that a sharp mind composed the words. Sloppy writing, on the other hand, can make others conclude that the creator is not intelligent. Some might even question their job-related competence.
Team Building
Written communication to employees is one way a company shows that it values their contribution and appreciates their efforts. Subtle but strong bonds of teamwork can be built through simple means such as sharing company-wide accomplishments -- sales milestones, for example -- with everyone in the organization. The tone of the communication is particularly important. If it is energetic and positive, the employees will respond to it in an equally positive fashion.
Writing & Communication Skills Are Essential to Business Success & Promotion
Maggie McCormick, Demand Media
Getting ahead in business isn't always about your education, experience and connections. It's important to put forth a professional attitude at all times. Since the art of doing business often involves communicating -- in person, on the phone and in email -- writing and communication skills are essential for business success and promotion.
Writing and Grammar Skills
Everyone lets the occasional typo slip, but you should always review your writing before submission, whether you're sending an email to clients and coworkers or preparing important documents. Stick to the point to avoid wasting the recipient's time. Run any documents through a spelling and grammar checker to catch any mistakes you didn't find. Brush up on common grammatical mistakes, such as writing "your" instead of "you're" or "it's" instead of "its."
Presentation Skills
As you move up in the ranks, you will have to do the occasional presentation, which can range from a product presentation for a large group to a one-on-one presentation of your ideas to your boss. When doing this, focus on the areas that can make the other person's life easier. Be concise. State what you can do for the other person and then respond to all questions, comments or concerns.
Business Etiquette Knowledge
The art of communication also extends to knowledge about common business etiquette. This might range from what you wear to the office to which method you're supposed to use when talking to a manager. The business marketplace is ever-expanding, and you should also learn about the business cultures in other countries as well, particularly if your business does business overseas. For example, in countries like Japan, it's considered impolite to present a business card with just one hand.