应届毕业典礼万能三分钟英语演讲稿范文（通用15篇）
At 19, I was just happy to have a job. But later through experience, trial, failure, I realized my true purpose was to be a force for good, to allow people to be themselves. so that becomes my legacy. I remember when I finished the [Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy for Girls] school, and I went to my friend Maya Angelou’s house, and Maya was making biscuits and teaching me to make the biscuits. I said "I’m so sorry you weren’t able to be there to see the school open..it’s going to be my greatest legacy.” And she put down what she was making and said “Baby, you have no idea what your legacy will be, because your legacy is every life that you touch.”
And that I repeat everywhere, because it’s true. It’s not one thing, it’s everything, and the most important thing is how you touch other people’s lives. Every day, you’re carving out the path, even when it looks like you’re not. Every action is creating equal and opposite reactions. How you think and what you do is being done unto you—that is my religion, I live by that. That is creating a blessed and spectacular life.
So graduates, this is the moment. Please cheer and wave! No, wait, wait. I’m pretty sure you have taken physics and electricity – so you must know something about amplification. So let’s try this again. And remember, I still have your diplomas. So one more time, let’s cheer and wave.
Thank you. It’s truly great to have all of you here on Killian Court, on this wonderful day, for this tremendously important occasion.
But before we send our new graduates out into the world, first, I must beg your indulgence on behalf of my wife. Christine Reif is a wonderful person. In fact, she’s sitting right there. But she has one weakness: She’s crazy about astronauts and about outer space.
As you just heard by the commencement speaker, July 20 of this year marks 50 years since the first human walked on the moon. For those of you graduating, I know this is ancient history – your parents’ history, maybe your grandparents’ history. So perhaps not all of you have been focused on the 50th anniversary of Apollo 11.
But because Mrs. Reif also loves the Institute, she has asked that, in addition to giving you a charge, I also prepare you for a mission.
Two weeks ago, I was in Spain. I made a pilgrimage to visit the home of one my great heroes, the Catalan cellist Pablo Casals. He was 97 years old when I was a freshman in college. He had lived through World War I, the Spanish Civil War, World War II.
I was so lucky to have played for him when I was 7 years old. He said I was talented. His advice to me then: Make sure you have time to play baseball.
And I’ll let you imagine how that might have worked out.
But in reality, that wise counsel, “to make time for baseball,” was a profound reflection of the philosophy that motivated his life. Casals always thought of himself as a human being first, as a musician second, and only then a cellist. It’s a philosophy that I’ve held close to my heart for most of my own life.
Now, I had always known Casals as a great advocate for human dignity. But standing in his home two weeks ago, I understood what it meant for him to live that philosophy, what it meant for him to be a human being first. I began to understand just a few of the thousands of actions he took every day, every month. Each was in the service of his fellow human beings.
I saw letters of protest he wrote to newspapers from London to Tokyo. I saw meticulous, handwritten accounts of his enormous financial contributions to countless refugees fleeing the carnage of the Spanish Civil War – evidence of a powerful, humanistic life.
Question three:
As you heard a moment ago, the second person to walk on the moon was Buzz Aldrin. Buzz was the first astronaut to have a doctoral degree, and he earned it from the school that has produced more astronauts than any nonmilitary institution. In fact, of the 12 humans who have walked on the moon, four graduated from that same institution, which is known by just three letters.
MIT.
You are great. I knew you could do it. “The beaver has landed!” Mrs. Reif, I believe they are ready.
As you…as you prepare for liftoff, I’d like to use the Apollo story to reflect on a few larger lessons we hope you learned at MIT because the spirit of that magnificent human project speaks to this community’s deepest values and its highest aspirations.
The first lesson is the power of interdisciplinary teams. We live in a culture that loves to single out heroes. We love to crown superstars.
As graduates of MIT, however, I expect you’re already skeptical of stories of scientific triumph that have only one hero. You know by now that if you want to do something big, like detect gravitational waves in outer space or decode the human genome, or tackle climate change, or finish an 8.01 pset before sunrise, you cannot do it without a team.
As Margaret Hamilton herself would be quick to explain, by 1968, the MIT Instrumentation Laboratory had 600 people working on the moon-landing software. At its peak, the MIT hardware team was 400. And from Virginia to Texas, NASA engaged thousands more. In short, she was one star in a tremendous constellation of talent. And together – together – those stars created something impossible for any one of them to create alone.
In my inaugural address, I remarked that just 60 years earlier, my father might not have been served in a D.C. restaurant – at least not certain of them. There were no black CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. Very few black judges. Shoot, as Larry Wilmore pointed out last week, a lot of folks didn’t even think blacks had the tools to be a quarterback. Today, former Bull Michael Jordan isn’t just the greatest basketball player of all time – he owns the team. (Laughter.) When I was graduating, the main black hero on TV was Mr. T. (Laughter.) Rap and hip hop were counterculture, underground. Now, Shonda Rhimes owns Thursday night, and Beyoncé runs the world. (Laughter.) We’re no longer only entertainers, we’re producers, studio executives. No longer small business owners – we’re CEOs, we’re mayors, representatives, Presidents of the United States. (Applause.)
Noe, I am not saying gaps do not persist. Obviously, they do. Racism persists. Inequality persists. Don’t worry – I’m going to get to that. But I wanted to start, Class of 20xx, by opening your eyes to the moment that you are in. If you had to choose one moment in history in which you could be born, and you didn’t know ahead of time who you were going to be – what nationality, what gender, what race, whether you’d be rich or poor, gay or straight, what faith you’d be born into – you wouldn’t choose 100 years ago. You wouldn’t choose the fifties, or the sixties, or the seventies. You’d choose right now. If you had to choose a time to be, in the words of Lorraine Hansberry, “young, gifted, and black” in America, you would choose right now. (Applause.)
I live in this space of radical love and gratitude. Truly, I live the most beautiful life that you can imagine. I sit around trying to imagine: Who can have a better life? Whatever you imagine my life to be like…it’s always ten times better than whatever you think! It’s true! It’s not because I have wealth—although I love money, money’s fabulous, I love it—and that I get a lot of attention, which is also good...sometimes. It’s because I had appreciation for the small steps, the seeds that were planted, the maps of my life that unfolded because I was paying attention. You have to pay attention to your life, because it’s speaking to you all the time. That led me to a path made clear.
So that is what I’m wishing for you today: Your own path made clear. I know there’s a lot of anxiety about what the future holds and how much money you’re gonna make, but your anxiety does not contribute one iota to your progress, I gotta tell you. Look at how many times you were worried and upset—and now you’re here today. You made it. You’re going to be okay.
Take a deep breath with me right now and repeat this: Everything is always working out for me. That’s my mantra—make it yours. Everything is always working out for me. Because it is, and it has, and it will continue to be as you forge and discover your own path. But first: You do need a job. And may I say, it doesn't have to be your life’s mission, our your greatest passion, but a job that pays your rent and lets you move out of your parents house—because yes, they are tired of taking care of you, and they’re hoping this CC education will pay off! And it will in ways that you can’t imagine.
On this 75th Anniversary of D-Day, I can comfortably speak for everyone when I say we are honoured to be in the presence of six Normandy Landing veterans.
To all who are on parade today, I can only say that you are a constant reminder of the great debt we owe those who have served this nation.
You embody the fitting home that awaits them in the peace and tranquillity of the Royal Hospital, should they want it.
But more widely, wherever you are, your presence is a symbol of the sacrifices that have been made by all veterans to sustain the freedoms and democracy we value so deeply today.
Ladies and Gentleman, could I ask that those who are able to, please stand in recognition of our veterans. We stand together and remember those who have sacrificed their lives for our freedom.
And for you here today, who have served us so greatly and with such honour, I congratulate you on the smartness of your turnout and the steadiness of your bearing. I thank you for inviting me here today and I wish you all the health and happiness you so richly deserve.
Thank you.
You may not know this, but I was on the sailing team all four years.
It wasn’t easy. Back then, the closest marina was a three-hour drive away. For practice, most of the time we had to wait for a heavy rainstorm to flood the football field. And tying knots is hard! Who knew?
Yet somehow, against all odds, we managed to beat Stanford every time. We must have gotten lucky with the wind.
Kidding aside, I know the real reason I’m here, and I don’t take it lightly.
Stanford and Silicon Valley’s roots are woven together. We’re part of the same ecosystem. It was true when Steve stood on this stage 14 years ago, it’s true today, and, presumably, it’ll be true for a while longer still.
The past few decades have lifted us together. But today, we gather at a moment that demands some reflection.
Fueled by caffeine and code, optimism and idealism, conviction and creativity, generations of Stanford graduates (and dropouts) have used technology to remake our society.
But I think you would agree that, lately, the results haven’t been neat or straightforward.
I realized this during the struggle of my life trying to build a network at the same time as running a show. I did not have the right leadership, and everything is about having the right people around you to support you. All of my mistakes were in the media—I can’t do anything privately. So when everything is about struggle-struggle, I had to say: What is this about? What is this here to show you? That is now my favorite question in crisis: What is this here to teach you or show you?
Jack Canfield in Chicken Soup for the Soul says “The greatest wound we’ve all experienced is being rejected for being our authentic self. And then we try to be what we’re not to get approval, love, acceptance, money...but the real need for all of us is to reconnect with the essence of who we really are…we all go around hiding parts of ourselves." He said he was with a Buddhist teacher years ago who said, “Here’s the secret: If you were to meditate for 20 years, here’s where you’d finally get to: Just be yourself, but be all of you.”
I’ve made a living—not a living but a real life—by being myself, using the energy of myself to serve the purpose of my soul. That purpose, I’m here to tell you, gets revealed to you daily. It is the thread that’s connecting the dots of who you are.
I’ve made a living—not a living but a real life—by being myself.
We've created entire value systems and a physical reality to support the worth of self. Look at the industry for self-image and the jobs it creates, the revenue it turns over. We'd be right in assuming that the self is an actual living thing. But it's not. It's a projection which our clever brains create in order to cheat ourselves from the reality of death.But there is something that can give the self ultimate and infinite connection -- and that thing is oneness, our essence. The self's struggle for authenticity and definition will never end unless it's connected to its creator -- to you and to me. And that can happen with awareness -- awareness of the reality of oneness and the projection of self-hood.For a start, we can think about all the times when we do lose ourselves. It happens when I dance, when I'm acting. I'm earthed in my essence, and my self is suspended. In those moments, I'm connected to everything --
I do a lot of graduations, lecturing, talking, and exchanging with the girls, we talk about passion and purpose and realizing your dream. But I realized I was confusing them and their expectations were out of wack. One of my daughter girls two years ago graduated with an internship, bought a used a car, all with no help from me. She’d only been working about six months and called me and said "Mama O, they want to give me a promotion, and I don’t want to take it because I don’t think it fulfills my purpose.” And I said “Your purpose right now is to keep that job! To do what you have to do until you can do what you want to do." (I borrowed that line from the great debaters.)
For years, I had a job, and after years of doing what I didn’t want to do, I ended up finding my life’s calling. My job ended when I was 28 years old. I got my first job in radio at 16, got on tv at 19, and every day I said "I don’t know if this is what I’m really supposed to be doing." But my father was like: ‘You better keep that job!" At 28, it wasn’t working out on the news because I was too emotional. I would cry while interviewing someone who had lost their home. I was told that I was going to be talking on the evening news and put on a talk show, and that was a demotion for me at the time. But that actually worked out for me.
For years at graduations I’ve said there’s no such thing as failure. But there is. I’ve also said failure is life pointing you in a different direction, and it indeed does. But in the moment when you fail, it really feels bad. It’s embarrassing…and it’s bad, and it’s going to happen to you if you keep living. But I guarantee you it also will pass, and you will be fine. Why? Because everything is always working out for you.
So that’s why today – when your bags are packed, your friends are dispersing, and your place in this class is carved in stone – I want you to take a moment. Forget about the power you might have had here and think instead about the power you will have in the future – in 10, 20, 30 years – and promise yourself something. Promise yourself that when you find your power, you will use it thoughtfully, with restraint, and with good intention.
You will be powerful. And when you are, do not abuse your power. Ever.
Now, I’m sure that in the course of your lifetime, including the last four years, you have witnessed power and its abuse. When you were young, you probably saw it on the playground. You’ve seen it on this campus. We certainly have all seen it in our nation, and around the world.
In my own lifetime, I’ve seen too many people make decisions that put themselves before their community, before society, before the health of our planet. I’ve seen too many people who choose to build walls rather than bridges.
Sometimes, it’s because of the arrogance of their certitude, or because of simple, blissful unawareness. Sometimes, it’s because of their ego, or self-deception, and sometimes, it’s a deliberate act of revenge. Other times, it’s the primal, addictive pursuit of conquest – conquest of all kinds.
At other places, but I’m happy to say not yet at Purdue, students have demanded to be kept, quote, “safe” from speech, that is, mere words, that challenge or discomfit them. At one large university, one, quote, “study”, I enclose it in quotes, purported to find a quarter of the student body suffering from PTSD because of an election outcome. Referring to such young people, someone has coined the distasteful but descriptive term “snowflakes.”
Some find a cause in the social media, which have reduced personal interaction among your younger contemporaries. Easier grading in high schools can lead to an unexpected jolt when a student arrives at college, at least if it’s a place like Purdue where top grades are still hard to come by. Another diagnosis points to overprotective parenting that limits some children’s opportunities to play and explore in unsupervised ways that require them to solve problems and resolve conflicts on their own.
having a view on these great men in the history of hunmanbeing,they all made full use of their youth time ,to do things that are useful to society,to the whole mankind,and as a cosquence ,they are remembered by later generations,admired by everyone.so do something in the time of young,although you may not get achievements as these greatmen did ,though not for the whole word,just for youeself,for those around!the young is just like blooming flowers,they are so beautiful when blooming,they make people feel happy,but with time passing by,after they withers ,moet people think they are ugly.and so it is the same with young,we are enthusiastic when we are young,then we may lose our passion when getting older and older.
The truth is, success is a process—you can ask anybody who’s been successful. I just passed on the lane up here here, successful restauranteur Danny Meyer, who’s sitting here with his family—Charles is graduating today. Ask Danny or anybody who’s successful, you go to any one of his restaurants—Shake Shack, love it!—Union Square Cafe, Gramercy Tavern—you will be impressed by not only the food, but the radical hospital and service. Service is not just about when you’re getting served.
When I started my talk show, I was just so happy to be on television. I was so happy to interview members of the Ku Klux Klan. I thought I was interviewing them to show their vitriol to the world, and then I saw them using hand signals in the audience—and realized they were using me, and using my platform. Then we did a show where someone was embarrassed, and I was responsible for the embarrassment. We had somehow talked a man who was cheating on his wife to come on the show with the woman he was cheating with and, on live television, he told his wife that his girlfriend was pregnant. That happened on mywatch.
Shortly after I said: I’m not gonna do that again. How can I use this show to not just be a show, but allow it to be a service to the viewer? That question of "How do we serve the viewer?" transformed the show. And because we asked that question every single day from 1989 forward—with the intention of only doing what was in service to the people who were watching—that is why now, no matter where I go in the world, people say "I watched your show, it changed my life." People watched and were raised by that show. I did a good job of raising a lot of people, I must say. That happened because of an intention to be of service.