最有影响力的斯坦福演讲：汉英对照(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)

作者：穆楠枫

出版社：哈尔滨出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

最有影响力的斯坦福演讲：汉英对照试读：

斯坦福大学简介

斯坦福大学(Stanford University)位于加利福尼亚州的斯坦福市，临近旧金山，享有“西岸哈佛大学”的美誉。

斯坦福大学始建于1885年。当时的加州铁路大王、曾担任加州州长的老利兰·斯坦福为纪念他在意大利游历时染病而死的儿子出资建立。

斯坦福大学是美国一所私立大学，被公认为世界上最杰出的大学之一。

斯坦福大学强调创新与接受挑战，并把这两项素质当做学校招收学生的基本门槛。

美国《新闻周刊》世界100强大学排名第2位。

韦伯麦特里克斯网世界大学排名第2位。

被《美国新闻与世界报道》评为全美第5名明星级大学，全美学术排名第一。

校训：自由之风永远吹拂(Die Luft der Freiheit weht)。

Speech 1 Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish 求知若饥，虚心若愚

演讲人简介：

Steve Jobs (史蒂夫·乔布斯)

1955年2月24日出生于美国加州硅谷“苹果”电脑的创始人之一，1985年获得由里根总统授予的国家级技术勋章

1997年成为《时代》杂志的封面人物；同年被评为最成功的管理者，是声名显赫的“计算机狂人”

2009年被《财富》杂志评选为这十年美国最佳CEO，同年当选《时代周刊》年度风云人物之一

1985年9月17日辞去苹果公司董事长职务，后乔布斯又创办了NeXT电脑公司

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. Trut hbe 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 firts 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 adopotin. 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 wif.e 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 mdidle 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 ha d never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relent ed 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 san 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 lif.e But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it a ll 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 computres 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 backwards ten years later.

Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. 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 stadrt e 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 4000 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 hidr e 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 tl ethe previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the bato n as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce an d tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public iflaure, 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 wa still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired fro mApple 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, slse 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, anoth er company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the world sfirst computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most usccessful 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 ist 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 ro ll 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 slat 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 certain lay 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 kid s 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 iwtill 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 an d 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 intlelectual 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 leilky 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 notto o 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 inne r 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 person al 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 it scourse, 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 mightf ind yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the word:“s Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.”It was their farewell message as they signed of fS.tay 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.

汉语回放(王鹏 译)

斯坦福大学是世界上最好的大学之一，我非常荣幸今天能够和大家在此一起参加毕业典礼。我从来没有从大学毕业过。老实说，今天是我这一生中第一次离大学毕业典礼这么近。我在这里，想跟你们分享我人生中的三个小故事，仅此而已。不是什么大道理，只是三个小故事。

第一个故事是关于点与点之间的联系。

我在里德学院只读了6个月就退学了，此后在学校里旁听，这样过了大约一年半，我才彻底退学。那么，我为什么退学呢？

这得从我出生前讲起。我的生母是一名年轻的未婚在校研究生，她决定将我送给别人收养。她非常希望我能够被有大学学历的人收养，并且她把一切都安排好了：我一出生就被交给一对律师夫妇收养。没想到我出生以后，那对夫妇却决定收养一名女孩。就这样，我的养父母——当时他们还在登记册上排队等着呢——半夜三更接到一个电话： “我们这儿有一个没人要的男婴，你们要吗？”“当然要!”他们回答。但是，我的生母后来发现我的养母不是大学毕业生，我的养父甚至连中学都没有毕业，所以她拒绝在最后的收养文件上签字。不过，没过几个月她就心软了，因为我的养父母许诺日后一定送我上大学。

17年之后，我真的进了大学。但是那个时候我天真地选择了一所学费跟斯坦福大学一样贵的学校，因此我工薪阶层的养父母把他们所有的积蓄都用于给我交纳学费。在大学里面待了6个月以后，我发现大学对我来说没有任何价值可言。我也不知道我未来要做什么，不知道大学如何帮助我走出这个迷惘，而大学却在不停地消耗我父母的所有积蓄。最后我决定退学，并且坚信一切都会明朗起来。在当时，这个决定让我确实非常恐惧，但现在回头来看，这个决定绝对是我迄今为止所作过的最英明的决定中的一个。退学以后，我终于彻底地从那些不感兴趣的必修课当中解脱出来，然后开始自由地去旁听一些感兴趣的课程。

那段时间可一点都不浪漫。我没有宿舍可以住，所以只能睡在朋友房间的地板上；为了有钱吃饭，我把可乐瓶子还回去，去换取5美分的瓶子押金。为了每周唯一的美餐，我每周五的晚上必须步行7公里到城另外一头的黑尔科里施纳礼拜堂那里。我喜欢那里的美食。但许许多多当时我凭着好奇心与兴趣所做的事情，在后来都被证明是无价之宝。

我先给你们举一个例子：里德学院的书法课在当时可能是全国最好的。校园里面张贴的每一张海报，每一个抽屉上的标签，都是非常漂亮的手写书法。当时我已经退学了，不需要去上那些常规课程，所以我决定去上书法课，研究下如何把字写得漂亮。我学习写带衬线和不带衬线的印刷字体，根据不同字母组合调整其间距，以及怎样把版式调整得好上加好。这门课太棒了，它所具有的美感、历史感、艺术感这些微妙的东西是科学无法做到的。

我从没想过这些会对我未来的生活产生什么实际价值。但10年以后，当我们开始设计第一台麦金托什机时，这些东西却一下从我脑子里面浮现出来。于是我们将所有的东西都设计进麦金托什机里。这是第一台有这么漂亮的文字版式的计算机。如果不是我当初去选修了这门书法课，麦金托什机绝对不会有那么多种印刷字体及间距安排合理的字号。如果不是Windows复制了麦金托什机模式，可能个人计算机现在还没这些东西。要不是退了学，我不会碰巧选了这门书法课，而个人电脑也可能不会有现在这些漂亮的版式。当然，我在大学里不可能从这一点上看到它与将来的关系。10年之后再回头看，两者之间的关系就异常清楚了。

重申一下，你在展望未来时不可能将生活中的这些点关联起来；只有回头看时，才会发现它们之间的关系。所以，要相信这些点迟早会连接到一起的。你们必须信赖某些东西——勇气、命运、生活、因缘等等。这样做从来没有让我的希望落空，还彻底改变了我的生活。

我的第二个故事是关于爱与失去。

我是很幸运的，因为我在很早的时候就已经知道我喜欢做什么了。20岁那年，我和沃兹在我父母的车库里面成立了苹果公司。通过我们10年的努力付出，苹果终于在车库里诞生了，从仅仅两个人的规模发展成为一个拥有员工4000人、资产达到20亿美元的大企业。在公司成立的第9年，我们推出了我们最好的产品——麦金托什机。那年我刚满 30 岁，紧接着我就被解雇了。你怎么会被你自己建立的企业解雇呢？好吧，事情实际上是这样的，随着苹果的成长，我们雇用了一个当时在我看来很有才华的管理人员与我一起管理苹果。刚开始的一年左右一切进展顺利。但是后来，我们对于苹果未来的发展发生了分歧，而最终这也导致了我们分道扬镳。但此时董事会的成员都站在了他那一边。这样，在30岁那年，我离开了自己创立的苹果，在众目睽睽之下我被炒了。我成年后的整个生活重心都失去了，这真是糟糕透了。

刚开始的几个月，我真的不知道应该做什么。我感到自己给老一代的创业者丢了脸——因为我丢掉了传到自己手里的接力棒。我去见了戴维帕·卡德和鲍勃·诺伊斯，想为我的糟糕行为向他们道歉。我是一个众所周知的失败者，我甚至想过逃离硅谷。但是，渐渐地，我开始看见一线曙光——我仍然热爱我过去做的一切。在苹果公司发生的这些风波丝毫没有改变这一点。我虽然被拒之门外，但我仍然深爱我的事业。于是，我决定从头开始。

有一点在当时是我没有发现，但是后来却被事实所证明的：那就是被苹果解雇是我迄今为止一生当中所碰到的最好的一件事情。尽管前途未卜，但从头开始的轻松感还是将保持成功的沉重感彻底取代。我开始进入了一个我一生当中最有创造力的时期。

在接下来的5年时间里，我重新成立了一家叫NeXT 的公司和一家叫Pixar的公司。我还爱上了一位了不起的、将会成为我妻子的女人。Pixar公司推出了世界上第一部用电脑制作的最佳动画长片《玩具总动员》，它现在是全球最成功的动画制作室。后来的一系列变化中，苹果将NeXT收购了，我又回到了苹果公司。我们在NeXT开发的技术成为了苹果重新崛起的核心技术。我和劳伦娜也建立了美满的家庭。

我很肯定如果当初苹果没有将我解雇的话，后来这一切都不会发生。良药苦口，但是我认为病人确实是需要这种东西的。有时候生活会给你当头一棒，但是不要灰心。我一直都确信，让我一直坚持下去的动力就是我喜欢做的那些事情。你必须要找到你真正爱的东西，这个道理适用于必须找到你真正热爱的工作和爱的人。工作占据生活中的大部分时间，让自己真正满意的唯一办法是做自己认为有意义的工作。做有意义的工作的唯一办法是热爱自己的工作。如果你还没有找到你真正热爱的工作，那就继续寻找，不要半途而废。就像一切需要你内心感觉所引导的事情一样，当你发现它的时候，你的感觉会告诉你。如同其他真诚的关系一样，随着时间的流逝你会发现这种关系会越来越紧密。所以说，要不断地寻找，直到找到自己喜欢的东西，不要半途而废。

我的第三个故事与死亡有关。

在我17岁那年，我读到了下面这一段话：“如果你把每一天都过得像最后一天，总有一天你会发现你是正确的!”这句话给我留下了深刻的印象，从那时起，33年过去了，我每天早上都会对着镜子问自己：“如果今天是我生命中的最后一天，我还会去做今天我要做的事情吗？”如果每次得到的答案都是“不”，那么我就知道我需要作出一些改变了。

在我生命中帮助我作出重大决定的一个原则就是：时刻谨记生命随时都可能会结束。因为所有你对外部的期望，你的自尊，所有对于失败以及困窘的恐惧，在面对着死亡的时候都会消失，你脑海中只会存在你认为真正重要的东西。对我来说，避免患得患失的最好的办法就是随时要提醒自己，生命随时都可能会结束。你已经一无所有的时候，干吗还不跟随自己的感觉去做事情？大概一年多以前，我被诊断出患上了癌症。我在早上七点半的时候作了一个扫描检查，结果显示在我胰腺上有一个肿瘤。医生告诉我，我极有可能患上了一种不治之症，并且推测我的生命只剩下3个月到6个月的时间。医生建议我回去把一切都安排好，其实这是在暗示我准备后事。也就是说，把今后10年要跟孩子们说的事情在这几个月内嘱咐完；也就是说，把一切都安排妥当，尽可能不给家人留麻烦；也就是说，去跟大家诀别。

那一整天我脑子里面都是这个诊断结果。到了晚上，我作了一次组织切片检查，他们把一个内窥镜通过喉咙穿过我的胃进入肠子，用针头在胰腺的瘤子上取了一些细胞组织。当时我用了麻醉剂，陪在一旁的妻子后来告诉我，医生在显微镜里看了细胞之后叫了起来，原来这是一种少见的可以通过外科手术治愈的恶性肿瘤。我做了手术，现在好了。

这就是迄今为止我最接近死神的一次，当然我也希望在此后很多年中，这也仍然是我生命中最接近的一次。在经历过这些事情之后，我可以更加确定地告诉你们一件事，而不仅仅让你们感觉只是纸上谈兵，那就是：没人愿意去死。即使那些想去天堂的人也不愿意死后再去。尽管死亡是我们大家最后的归宿，而且没人能摆脱这个最终的命运。死亡很可能是生命最好的一项发明。它推进生命的变迁，它推开陈旧的东西为新生事物让路。现在，你们就是新生的事物，但在不久的将来，你们也会逐渐成为陈旧的，也会被淘汰的。对不起，这很戏剧性，不过这是千真万确的。

每个人的时间都是有限的，所以不要把自己的生命浪费在活在别人的意愿当中。不要被偏见束缚住，那样只会让你活在别人的设想中。不要让别人的想法遮盖你自己内心真实的声音。最重要的一点是：要有跟随自己内心的直觉与感觉的勇气。它们已经告诉你你真正想成为什么样的人，其他所有的信息都是第二位的。

我年轻时曾经阅读过一本非常好的刊物，叫《全球概览》，这是我们那代人的宝书之一。创办人名叫斯图尔特·布兰德，就住在离这儿不远的门洛帕克市。他用诗一般的语言把刊物办得生动活泼。那是 20 世纪 60 年代末，还没有个人电脑和桌面印刷系统，所有报纸内容全靠打字机、剪刀和即显胶片照相机完成。它就像一种纸质的Google，却比 Google 早问世了 35 年。这份刊物棒极了，查阅手段齐备，整体构思相当完美。

斯图尔特和他的同事们出了好几期《全球概览》，当一切按常规发展的时候，他们出版了最后一期。那是 20 世纪 70 年代中期，我也就是你们现在这样的年纪。最后一期的封底上是一张清晨乡间小路的照片，就是那种爱冒险的人等在那儿搭便车的那种小路。照片下面写着：求知若饥，虚心若愚。那是他们停刊前的告别辞。求知若饥，虚心若愚，这也是我一直想做到的。现在各位马上就将离开学校，进入社会开始新的生活，我同样希望大家： 求知若饥，虚心若愚。

谢谢你们!

Speech 2 Getting to the Essence of Things 抓住事物的本质

演讲人简介：

Carly S. Fiorina (卡莉·菲奥莉娜)

1954年9月出生，父亲是律师，母亲是艺术家

拥有马里兰大学Robert H. Smith商业学院的工商管理硕士学位以及麻省理工学院斯隆商学院的理科硕士学位

1999年7月底，出任惠普公司首席执行官，成为道琼斯工业指数成分股企业中唯一的女性总裁

2001年8月26日被正式任命为惠普公司首位女CEO。上任伊始，2001年9月，便出现惠普并购康柏的惊人之举

美国《商业周刊》在菲奥莉娜刚上任的报导中，对她的形容就是：“她有如簧之舌，亦富钢铁意志(A silver tongue and an iron will) 。”

自1998年入选美国《财富》杂志评选出的全美50位商业女强人以来，她已第3次入选50强，也是连续第2次荣登50强榜首

Thank you. Good morning, everyone.

I’d like to echo President Hennessy in welcoming the parents and family and friends with us today and in extending Happy Father’s Day wishes to the fathers and father figures among us, in person, and in spirit. My own dad is in the audience this morning. Dad, Happy Father’s Day.

But much as we love you, dads, today is not about you.

Today we gather to celebrate the accomplishments of this starry eyed—okay, maybe it’s dazed looking crowd of people istting before us, adorned in black gowns and various other accoutrements.

To the Stanford class of 2001, the graduate students and the undergraduates,I’m honored to be among the first to congratulate you on completing your years at Stanford.

I can guarantee your parents are extremely proud at this moment... proud of your accomplishments, if not your‘wacky walk’. Today they’re literally beaming, with a little bit of relief and lots of tenderness.

From the looks of it, one of you is wearing the same rented cap and gown I wore 25 years ago in Frost Amphitheater, where they used t ohold the graduation ceremony. This one I’m wearing today is decidedly heavier, but it’s giving me flashbacks nevertheless.

These past few weeks, I’ve been wondering what wisdom I might impart from this podium after 25 post Stanford years.

The most earnest advice I received came from the undergraduate Seniro Class Presidents a couple of weeks ago—rfom Delphine and Brandon and Michael and Lauren. They said,“Make it personal. Tell us what it was like for you to leave this place. Tell us it’ll be okay.”

I took their request to heart. And I let my guidance for this speech come from memories of how I felt graduating from Stanford as a 21 year old ... and how those early years of seeking and stumbling shaped the experiences I’ve had these past 25 years.

So one day after work a few week sago I drove around campus, to rekindle memories. When I was in school, campus life was quite different from what you’ve experienced—to say nothing of the world beyond The Farm.

I drove by the old“Theta Xi”house. In the 70s, that was the frat for the band guys. I was made an honorary member because I had a man’s name, and could survive an initiation ceremony that involved a stein of vodka and an iron stomach...but we won’t go into that.

The parents out there might remember this: in the mid-70s, our men’s basketball team was less than championship material—we ranked somewhere in the middle of the Pac Eight, and the women’s team had just been formed.

Musically speaking, Tower of Power was big. Peter Frampton had just“come alive”, and the“techies”were the ones using their Marantz stereos to copy their albums onto cassette tapes.

While I was here, the Stanford Indians were renamed the Stanford Cardinal, although my buddies in the Band were campaigning for the“Robber Barons”as a mascot, the administration was not amused.While I was here, Patty Hearst was kidnapped, right across the Bay in Berkeley.

And while much was different about my time here, some things are similar: we were in the throes of an Energy Crisis—in fact, the speaker at my commencement spoke on energy conservation,“Stagflation”confounded the market . Employment prospects for graduating seniors were, let’s face it,rather grim.

While you are not faced with stagflation exactly, your expectations of the job market have no doubt been flattened since you entered Stanford.

After all, Palm Drive was paved with job offers for the classes befo re yours. If you were a floundering Medieval History major, and you we re interested in participating in what you thought might be the latest California Gold Rush, you might have shocked your parents by landing a dot com job with a VP title and stock options.

But here you are, the Class of 2001. And times have changed.

Perhaps it’s unfair of me to presume, but if Spring Quarter had yo u feeling anything like I did at the prospect of graduating, underneath that cap and gown(and everything else you have on your heads), your fear is as great or greater than your excitement today.

I was afraid. The truth is, I was afraid the day I walked into Stanford.And I was afraid the day I walked out.

I was scared of leaving the protective bubble of this place for plac es unknown, during uncertain economic times ... and I was scared of squandering the incredible gift of my Stanford experience on pursuits that weren’t commensurate with expectations I ... and others ... had of me. I was scared of not doing it all, of making irrevocable mistakes.

If you’re scared today, let me ask you this: What will you do with your fear？ Will you let it become a motivator, or an inhibitor？

You are the only one who can answer that. But what I can offer a s guidance, and reassurance, is a story—the story of one Stanford grad’s process of stumbling and searching to find a place in the world, oftentimes in the face of her fears.

I’d like to begin my story at the History Corner.

The most valuable class I took at Stanford was not Econ Fifty One. It was a graduate seminar called, believe it or not,“Christian, Islamic, and Jewish Political Philosophies of the Middle Ages.”

Each week, we had to read one of the Great Works of medieval philosophy—Aquinas, Bacon, Abelard. These were huge texts—it seemed like we were reading 1,000 pages every week. And by the end of the week, we had to distill their philosophical discourse into two pages.

The process went something like this: First you’d shoot for 20 pages.Then you’d edit to 10. Then five. Then finally, two—a two page, single spaced paper that didn’t merely summarize. It rendered all the fat out of a body of ideas, boiling it down to the very essence of its meaning.

And then you’d start all over again the next week, with a differen t massive text.

The philosophies and ideologies themselves certainly left an impression on me. But the rigor of the distillation process, the exercise of refinement that’s where the real learning happened. It was an incredible, heady skill to master. Through the years, I’ve used it again and again—the mental exercise of synthesis and distillation and getting to the very heart of things.

The intellectual process I learned in that clas is also life’s process.Because every life is a Great Work, with all the richness of its gifts, and the wealth of its possibilities.

When you graduate from here, you exit with thousands of pages of personal text, on which are inscribed beilefs and values shaped by years o f education, family interactions, relationships, experiences.

And buried within those thousands of pages is your personal truth, your essence.

So, how do you distill your life down to its essence？ You can begin by confronting your fears.

I understand now, 25 years after that class: it is through a similar,personal distillation process that I have encountered my own fears, and mastered them.

Each time I encountered fear, each time I had another moment of“ahhah”, I was getting closer to identifying my essence, my true heart, my true self.

The first epiphany came in a moment of realization that I really did measure up. It was about conquering the fear of inadequacy.

Remember when you entered Stanford, as a 17 or 18 year old kid, or an eager grad student？ You were at the top of the heap. You felt prett yconfident in your abilities, right？ And then you arrived at your dorm, or attended your first department meeting, and after two or three conversations with your peers,you probably felt undeserving and totally inadequate.

If you’re anything like me, your internal monologue went something like,“Oh my God: The Admissions Office messed up. They must have mistaken me for some other Carly. These people are in a completely dieffrent league! They’re wondering what I’m doing here! What will I tell them？”

Let me warn you, my fellow type A’s: you’ll probably have this feeling of inadequacy many times during your life. President Hennessy mentioned tha t I spent several years at AT&T. When I showed up there, once again, everyone seemed smarter. They seemed more confident, better prepared, better equipped to do their jobs than I was.

But slowly, you win some battles. You prove yourself with your work.You fail, and you survive. You learn. Maybe you even lead. And that fea r diminishes a little bit. Lo and behold, you’ve knocked a couple hundred pages off your personal Great Work. You’ve begun the distillation process. You’re beginning to define your life.

But once you realize that you do have a place among your peers, a new fear starts to creep in. You wake up one morning and think: Wait a second: Am

I living my own life, or someone else’s？ Are the pages left in my story, mine to write？

For those of you choosing paths that are well-defined, paths th at very neatly match others’ expectations of you , my gut tells me that you a re probably among the most fearful today.

Why do I say that？ Because that was me on graduation day. I was on my way to law school, and quaking in my boots.

I was going, not because it was a lifelong dream, or because I imagined I could change the world, but because I thought it was expected of me. I thought I owed it to my family, especially my father a Stanford law professor, a Duke law school dean, a 9th circuit Federal judge , not because he’d ever said so,but because I’d assumed it to be true.

So off I went to law school in the fall. And from the start, it left me cold.I barely slept those first three months. I had a blinding headache every day .And I can tell you exactly which shower tile I was staring at in my parent’s bathroom when I came home for a weekend and it hit me like a bolt of lightning: It’s my life. I can do what I want.

It was an epiphany for me. In that instant, the headaches literally disappeared. I got out of the shower. And I walked downstairs and said,“I quit.”It was tough. But with that one decision, I cleared out about 500extraneous pages of my personal Great Work.

The French writer Camus once said,“To be happy, we must not be too concerned with others.”And yet, we often are. I had convinced myself th at my parents’ pride and my analytic mind　and my Stanford humanietis degree were enough to quell the fear. But they were not enough to make me happy.

It’s true that after law school I never looked back, but I still didn’t know where to look, either. The important thing was, I was now in control. The only expectations I had to live up to were my own.

So I went and got a job. It was with Marcus & Millichap, a real estate investment brokerage on Hanover Street, across Page Mill Road from HewlettPackard’s headquarters. It’s still there.

I had a title: it was not“VP”, it was“Receptionist”. I answered the phones. I typed. I filed. My parent swere, understandably, quite concerned.This wasn’t exactly what they’d hoped for, for their Stanford graduate.

But I paid the rent. And I learned from that work: I learned how people at the lowest levels of an organization can get treated and how much of a difference they can make. I discovered that there are lessons to be laerned in everything—if you choose to learn them.

One day, a couple of brokers there decided not to be put off by m y receptionist title or the obvious stereotypes that might accompany it and asked if I wanted to try something else. I was given the opportunity to contribu taet a new level by writing up deal.s Because of that gesture, because someone believed I could do more, I was able to trim a few more pages out of my personal discourse.

But after a year of this I was still seeking and stumbling and restle ss,I felt like I needed to stretch, that I needed to change my surroundings and explore a bit. So I moved to Italy to teach English. Surprisingly, it was there that I decided business school was the next thing for me.

Frankly the business world was totally foreign to me. I grew up in an academic community, my mother was an artist, and we didn’t really have friends in business. But at this point I was deciphering a much shorter personal text. And I remembered that at Marcus & Millichap I had discovered that I liked commerce, the pace of it, the people of it, the pragmatic problemsolving of it.

Choosing business school was surprising, and yet absolutely right for me.

Be assured; no matter how transformative your experiences has been at Stanford, this is only the beginning. As you do the hard work of distliling your life down to its essence, you will constantly discover things about yourself that are both utterly surprising and surprisingly familiar.

I left business school lighter by a good couple-hundred page.

The Viennese psychiatrist Viktor Frankl once said,“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one’s own way.”For me, this third epiphany followed hard on the heels of the realization that I could confound others’ expectations, and it would be okay.

There are no bad choices, as long as you learn from them. Some peop le simply stop choosing. Anyone can allow their past to be better than their future, if they stop choosing. Do not be afraid to make decisions. Do not be afraid to make mistakes. Choose to be brave, and to keep moving forward.Don’t let your options paralyze you. Make a decision, and then choose what happens next.

I joined the business world in 1980, and over the years, working on et h East Coast, I hit my stride. I met and married the right man, my wonderful husband Frank, who’s also here today,and with him came two wonderful daughters and the loving and boisterous Fiorina family. Finally, my year in Italy paid off! We loved the East Coast, and planned on spending the rest of our lives there.

And then, unexpectedly, the call came suggesting that I might want to return home to this community, to lead the company that gave birth to this Valley—Hewlett Packard.

Nelson Mandela once quoted,“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.”That is the final realization I’ll share with you, the realization that not only d o you have control over your own life, but that you have the power to make a difference in other peoples’ lives.

I drove to Palo Alto for my final interview with the Board of Directors,and it seemed appropriate to arrive early, and sit in my car across the street from Hewlett Packard in the parking lot of Marcus & Millichap, and think about how life was coming full-circle in some unexpected, and truthful, ways.

I sat in the parking lot before what was by all accounts the interview of a lifetime, and I thought about the uphill battle that lay ahead if I tok the CEO job at HP. I had no illusions about the magnitude of the challenges in leading a company that had a great past, but was now searching for its future. I knew that I was an unexpected choice for the position, and I knew that with this job would come a fair bit of scrutiny and criticism.

And then I weighed all of that, against what was worth doing.

I sat in my car, and I felt humbled by a great sense of responsibility for a great legacy. But I didn’t feel afraid. I had recently watched my mother confront death with bravery, and in that experience, I learned what choosing to be brave really means. And I left fear behind.

The day I walked into HP for the first time as its new CEO, it felt both utterly surprising, and surprisingly familiar.

HP is a Great Work in its own right. It is worth preserving, it is worth revitalizing. It is a company of unique values and character, with a unique relationship to this community to Stanford, to Palo Alto, to Silicon Valley.More than that, it is a company capable of making technology and its benetfsi accessible to all.

And my role is to help make HP relevant in a new era. My job is to distill its original essence, and write those two pages.

My wish for you today, is that by the time your 25-year reunion rolls around—and it’ll happen a lot sooner than you think—you, too, will hav e found a place in the world where your values, and your character, are at home.Where your actions and your heart are totally aligned.

Let your fear motivate you, not inhibit you. Ask yourself the toug h questions: Am I acting out a role, or am I living the truth？ Am I still making choices, or have I simply stopped choosing？ Am I in a place that engages my mind, and captures my heart？ Am I stuck in the past, or am I defining　my future？ And what will I leave the planet, in my two pages？

Tomorrow, you take your 1,000 pages, and depart this incredible place.

Before you leave, step back and consider the enormous text of your life thus far, and acknowledge its heft, and its complexity.

Before you leave, reflect on the support you’ve gotten, and the sacrifices that all these wonderful people in the audience have made, so that you could have an unforgettable experience here at Stanford. Today is the day to honor them with your joy and with your fear. They have helped you have this experience. It’s one you’ll never forget, one you will always draw from.

Before you leave, acknowledge the incredible wealth of reosurces you have in the Stanford community. Stanford is a Great Work, too. No matter how far you may wander from Palo Alto, you can rely on this lasntig, rich and diverse web of ideas, knowledge, and friends you’ve constructed.

Remember to encourage one another. Remind each other that life is just going to get better and better, if you let your fear motivate you　tboegin a rigorous, but enormously satisfying lifelong process of distillation: A process of writing your two pages, single spaced, story.

And as you do your editing and decide what to leave in, and what to leave out, you will recognize the choices that are true to your essence. You will know what is worth doing, and you will do it. It will feel utterly surprising, and surprisingly familiar.

I wish you luck, but more than that, I wish you courage and perseverance and the support of your loved ones.

My heartfelt congratulations go out to you, and to all of your mothers and fathers and families and friends.

Thank you. Make it a great life.

汉语回放(尚地 译)

谢谢!各位，早上好!

我想重复一下亨尼斯校长的话，对我们今天在座的各位父母以及家庭还有朋友表示再次欢迎，并且真诚地将父亲节的祝福送给我们这里的各位父亲以及长辈。在这个早上，我的父亲也坐在了观众席里。

爸爸，父亲节快乐!

尽管我们很爱你们，父亲们，但是今天并不是关于你们的。

今天我们齐聚一堂，来祝贺这群过分乐观——好吧，也许是一脸茫然的——坐在我们前面的这些人的成就，他们身着黑色礼服和各种其他的服装。

2001届斯坦福毕业生，研究生和本科毕业生，我很荣幸能够早于他人祝贺你们完成了在斯坦福的学业。

我保证你们的父母此时此刻会非常骄傲，为你们的成就感到自豪，如果你们没有“行为古怪”的话。今天他们确实喜气洋洋，有一点如释重负，还有很多欣慰。

从样子上看，你们中的一位，穿着和我25年前在弗罗斯特阶梯教室穿着的那套租来的学士服一样的衣服，他们曾常在那里举行毕业典礼。我今天穿着的这套显然更重一些，不过它依然让我觉得旧景重现。

在过去的几周里，我一直在想，在从斯坦福毕业25年后的今天，站在这个讲台上我应该传授什么样的智慧。

我收到的最诚恳的建议是几周前来自大四毕业班会长戴尔芬、布兰登以及迈克尔和劳伦提出的，他们说，“就针对您个人讲，告诉我们您离开这里的时候是什么感觉，告诉我们就行”。

我把他们的要求记在了心里。并且，我回忆着当我21岁从斯坦福毕业时的感觉，并让它指导着我的演讲。还有，在早些年里，我所经历的追寻和坎坷，是如何塑造了我这毕业后25年来的经验的。

所以，几周前，有一天下班后，我开着车在校园里转，为了重新点燃我的记忆。我上学那会儿，校园生活和你们现在所经历的大不一样——话说，那会儿世上除了农场，什么也没有。

我开车路过那幢陈旧的“塞塔西”房子。在20世纪70年代，那里是兄弟会的集会地。我曾是里面的荣誉成员，因为我有个男人的名字，并且能在创始仪式上幸存下来，那可包括一杯伏特加，还有一个铁打的胃。不过，我们今天不去研究这些。

在座的一些家长们可能还记得：在20世纪70年代中期，我们学校的男子篮球还不是冠军的料——我们只排在中间的某个位置，而女队也才刚刚组建。

说到音乐，“力量的塔”那时大受欢迎。彼得·弗兰普顿刚刚活跃起来。而所谓的技术员，就是那些用他们的日本马兰士音响把他们的专辑拷进磁带里的人。

我当年在这里的时候，“斯坦福印第安人”被改名为“斯坦福红衣主教”。尽管我在兄弟会的朋友在争取把“流氓大亨”作为球队吉祥物，但是管理部门并不乐意。

我当年在这里的时候，就在伯克利湾对面，帕蒂·赫斯特被绑架了。

虽然我在这儿时大部分都与今天有所不同，不过有些事还是相似的：我们都在能源危机中苦苦挣扎——事实上，在我的毕业典礼上，那时的发言人就谈到了节约能源，停滞性通胀搞乱了整个市场。坦诚地讲，那时就业前景对当时的毕业生来说相当严峻。

当你没有真正直面停滞性通胀的时候，毫无疑问，在你们进入斯坦福之后，你们预期中的就业市场就是一片坦途。

毕竟，电脑行业已经为你们前几届的毕业生提供了很多就业机会。如果你是一个前途渺茫、主修中世纪历史的毕业生，并且热衷于参与你所谓的最新的“加利福尼亚淘金热”，那么你可能顶着一个副总头衔、带着职工优先入股权进入网络公司工作，这会让你们的父母感到震惊。

但是现在，在座的各位2001届毕业生，时代已经变了。

也许我这样假设不太公平，但是如果这个春季能够让你们感受到任何一点我当时对毕业前景所感受到的，那么在这身礼服和礼帽(以及你们头上所戴的东西)下面，你们的恐惧感会像今天的兴奋感一样强烈，甚至恐惧超过兴奋。

我很害怕。事实是，走进斯坦福的那一天我觉得害怕。而当我走出去的那一天，我同样感到害怕。

我害怕在经济形势不明朗的时期，离开斯坦福这个保护罩，走进一个未知的地方……而且我很害怕将我在斯坦福所获得的惊人才能浪费在无法与我以及别人对我的期望相称的事情上。我害怕无所事事，也害怕犯下不可挽回的错误。

今天，如果你感到恐惧，那么请允许我问你：“你会怎么处理你的恐惧？是让它变成激励你的动力，还是阻碍你的阻力？”

你们是唯一可以回答这个问题的人。而我所能提供的指导并且让你们感到放心的是一个故事，这个故事讲一位斯坦福毕业生，在这个世界上，跌跌撞撞地时常要不顾恐惧地寻找一个地方。

我想首先从我在“历史角”的经历谈起。

我在斯坦福上过的最有价值的课，并不是经济学五十一则。而是一个本科生研究会，信不信由你，它叫做“基督教，伊斯兰教以及犹太教中世纪政治哲学”。

每个礼拜，我们都要读一部中世纪哲学巨著，阿奎那、培根、阿贝拉尔。这些都是十分厚重的书，这意味我们每周都似乎要读1000页。而且，在周末的时候，我们还要把他们的哲学言论提炼到两页纸上。

这个过程大概是这样进行的：首先你得先看20页，然后把它编辑成10页，接着是5页，最后两页——一份只有两页、单行距的论文，这不仅仅是总结。它凝聚了一个思想身上的全部精华，并把它提炼只剩下其最本质的部分。

然后你就得重新开始下一周的工作，去研究又一本巨著。

这些哲学观点和意识形态本身的确给我留下了深刻的印象。不过，严格的提炼过程、对提炼过程的不断练习，这些才是我真正学到东西的地方。掌握这种能力是让人难以置信和兴奋的。这些年来，我已经一次又一次地在头脑中运用这种综合和提炼的方式去把握事物最核心的部分。

我在这门课中学到知识提炼过程同样也是人生的过程。因为每一个人生都是一部巨著，蕴涵丰富的意义和无限的潜能。

当你从这里毕业时，你已经拥有上千页的个人书页。你的个人书页中写满数年教育、家庭交流、人际关系以及经历所塑造的信仰和价值观。

而埋藏在那成千上万页篇目内的是你个人的真理，你的精华。

那么，你应该如何提炼你生命的本质呢？你可以通过直面你的恐惧开始。

在学那门课25年之后，我明白了：它通过一个类似的、个人提炼的过程使我遭遇了我自己的恐惧，而最终我掌控了它们。

每一次我遭遇恐惧，每一次我又有了一个“啊哈”的时刻，我都越来越接近鉴别我的本质，我的真正内心，真实的自我。

我第一次顿悟到来的时候是在我意识到我确实做到了的那一时刻。那是对不足的恐惧的征服。

还记得当你进入斯坦福、还是个十七八岁的孩子或是个渴望毕业的学生的时候吗？那时，站在获胜者的位置，你一定对自己的能力信心十足，对不对？然后你到了你的宿舍，或是参加了第一次部门会议，然后与两三个同龄人聊了后，你很可能会觉得自己无足轻重或是觉得自己比别人差很多。

如果你也像我一样的话，那你当时心里肯定会这样想，“我的天：招生办没搞错吧。他们一定把我和另一个卡莉弄混了。我跟这些人完全就不是一个水平啊!他们肯定奇怪我在这儿干什么!我该怎么跟他们说？”

那么我来提醒你们，我的甲等朋友们：在你们以后的生活中，将会很多次觉得自己不足。亨尼斯校长提到我曾在美国电话电报公司 干过几年。当我刚出现在那儿的时候，又一次，每个人都看起来比我更聪明。他们似乎更自信，更有准备，比我更能胜任工作。

不过，慢慢地，你打了一些胜仗。你通过你的工作证明了自己。你失败了，然后又活下来了。你学到了新东西，甚至做了领头羊，而你的恐惧也减少了。看吧，你已经搞定你自己的巨著中的几百页。你已经开始了提炼过程。你开始定义你的生活了。

但是一旦你发觉你已在自己的同辈中占有一席之地的时候，一个新的恐惧又悄悄出现了。有一天早上，你起来，然后想：等等，我是在过我自己的生活，还是别人的？我故事中的那些页，是我写的吗？

对于你们中那些已经选择了明确路线的人，那些选择的路线非常符合别人对你期盼的人，我的直觉告诉我，你们今天很可能是最恐惧的人中的一员。

我为什么这么说？因为我毕业那天就是这样的。我当时是在去法学院的路上，而我的腿却在发软。

我之所以去，并不是因为那是我一辈子的梦想，也不是因为我幻想能够改变世界，而是因为我认为别人就是这么期盼我的。我觉得这是我欠我家人的，尤其是欠我的父亲——斯坦福的一位法学教授，杜克大学法学院院长，第九位联邦巡回法官的。不是因为他对我这么说过，而是因为我认为就是这样的。

于是我在秋天去了法学院。而从一开始，它就让我心寒了。头3个月我几乎难以入眠，每天我都头疼眼花。而且我能准确地告诉你，当有一个周末我回到家里，在我父母的浴室里，是哪一块瓷砖像闪电一样砸到了我，我盯着它想：这是我的生活，我可以做我想做的。

这对我来说是一个顿悟。在那一刹那，头痛确确实实消失了。我走出浴室，然后下楼说我退学了。作出这样的决定确实很难。但是通过这个决定，我清除了大概500页与我的巨著不相干的东西。

法国作家加缪曾经说过：“要想快乐，我们就一定不能太在意别人。”然而，我们却经常做不到这一点。我曾经说服自己，我父母的骄傲、我善于分析的头脑以及我的斯坦福大学人文学科学位足够平复我内心的恐惧了，但是它们却不足以让我快乐。

确实，从法学院退学后我从没回顾过什么，但我到现在也不知道看向哪里。重要的是，现在一切在我掌控之中。我唯一不能辜负的期望就是我自己的期望。

于是我去找了一份工作。公司叫做马库斯·米里卡普公司，一家在汉诺威大街的房地产投资中介公司。从惠普总部走，穿过佩奇米尔路，就能到那里。现在那家公司还在那儿。

我在那家公司拥有一个头衔：不是副总，是接待员。我接电话、打字、整理文档。我的父母非常替我担心，这一点可以理解。这不是他们所期望的，不是他们对毕业于斯坦福的女儿所期望的。

但是我付了租金，而且我从工作中学到了东西。我知道了一个机构的最底层员工是被如何对待的，以及这些底层员工是多么的重要。如果你选择去学的话，我发现在任何事物中都有可学的东西。

有一天，那儿的几个经纪人决定不让我再顶着接待员头衔或是做别的明显单调的接待员的工作了，问我想不想试试别的工作。这样我得到了在新的工作层面做事情的机会，那就是起草交易合同。因为我的表现，因为有人觉得我可以做得更多，我才得以从我的人生巨著中又删掉几页。

但是这样过了一年之后，我依旧在寻找、犹豫并且焦躁不安，我觉得我需要伸展，我需要改变周围的环境并且去探索一下。于是我搬到了意大利去教英语。令人惊讶的是，就是在那儿，我决定接下来我要做的一件事是去读商学院。

坦率地说，商业世界对我来说是完全陌生的。我是在学术氛围中长大的，我的母亲是个艺术家，而且我们真的没有从事商业的朋友。但是这时，我读透了我个人巨著中的一段极短的文章。我记得我在马库斯·米里卡普时，我发现我喜欢商业，它的节奏、从事它的人、它解决问题时务实的态度。

选择商学院很出人意料，但它绝对适合我。

我保证，不管你在斯坦福的经历多么具有改革性，这都只是个开始。当你努力地提炼、不断地接近你人生的本质时，你将不断地发现关于自己的东西，那些既让你完全震惊又让你惊人熟悉的东西。

我离开商学院时更加轻松了，因为我的人生巨著又少了好几百页。

维也纳精神病学家维克多·弗兰克曾经说过：“你可以拿走一个人身上所有的一切，除了一样，那就是人最后选择自己道路的自由。”对我来说，当我意识到违背他人的期望也没什么大不了的时候，我的第三次顿悟就紧随其后了。

只要你在选择中学习，就没有坏的选择。有些人干脆停止了选择。如果停止选择的话，任何人都可以让他们的过去比他们的未来更美好。不要害怕去作决定，不要害怕犯错误。选择勇敢，奋勇前进。不要让你的选择麻痹了你。作出决定，然后选择接下来发生什么。

我在1980年加入了商界，多年来，我在东海岸工作，阔步前进。我遇见并且嫁给了命中注定的男人。我了不起的丈夫弗兰克，他今天也在这里。和他一起，我们有了两个漂亮的女儿和一个热闹的菲奥莉娜家族。最终，我在意大利的那些年得到了回报!我爱东海岸，并且打算在那里度过余生。

然后，没想到的是，一个电话打来，建议说也许我会想回家，回到这个社区来领导这个催生了硅谷的公司——惠普。

纳尔逊·曼德拉曾经引言过：“我们最深的恐惧不是我们的不足。我们最深的恐惧是我们的力量无可限量。”这就是我想和你们分享的最后的领悟。我领悟到，你不仅能控制你的生活，而且你有能力去改变其他人的生活。

我开车去帕洛阿尔托参加我和董事会的最后面试。似乎提前到是比较合适的。我坐在车里，将车停在马库斯·米里卡普公司的停车场里，街对面就是惠普公司。我在车上想着生活如何用如此出乎意料，却又很真实的方式回到了原点。

在我进行大家所谓的关乎我一生命运的面试之前，我坐在停车场里，思考如果我接任惠普CEO职位将会出现在我面前的困难。对于领导一个有着辉煌过去、正在寻找未来的公司，我没有想象将会面临什么样的挑战。我知道我不是这个职位所期待的人选，而且我知道伴随着这个工作的将是一大堆审查和批评。

然后我将所值得去做的事情和所有这一切作了一个权衡。

我坐在车里，对这份巨大遗产产生的责任感让我感到格外谦卑，但是我没有感到害怕。我最近目睹了我母亲面对死亡时的勇敢，而且从这个经历中我学到了选择勇敢的真正含义。于是我把恐惧抛在了脑后。

我作为新的首席执行官第一次走进惠普的那天，那感觉绝对既令人惊讶，又让人出乎意料的熟悉。

就其本身来说，惠普是一部巨著。它值得被保护，值得再度复兴。它是一个有着独特价值观和特色的公司。对这个团体——斯坦福大学、帕洛阿尔托、硅谷有着独特的联系。更重要的是，它是一家有能力将技术及其益处带给大家的公司。

而我的职责，是帮助惠普在新的领域发挥重要的作用。我的工作是提取它的原本本质，然后写下最后的那两页论文。

今天，我对你们的祝愿是，在你们25年后重聚的时候——这可比你们想的要来得快得多——你们也能够在这个世上为你们的价值、你们的特点找到一个最终归宿。在那儿，你们能够心行合一。

让你的恐惧激励你，而不是阻碍你。问你自己这些艰难的问题：我是在扮演一个角色，还是活在真实中？我仍在作出选择，还是干脆就停止了呢？我是否在一个符合我的想法、抓住我的心的地方呢？我是仍困在过去，还是正在定义将来呢？我将用两页纸，为这个星球留下什么呢？

明天，你拿着你的1000页，然后离开这个难以置信的地方。

在你离开之前，后退一步，仔细考虑一下目前为止那关于你生活的庞大的文本，然后确定一下它的重量，它的复杂度。

在你离开之前，回想一下你所得到的支持，以及所有观众席上这些了不起的人所作出的牺牲，这样你可以在斯坦福大学，有一个难忘的经历。今天，是用你们的喜悦和恐惧来让他们荣耀的一天。是他们让你们有了这样的经历。这是你永远也不会忘记的，是你将永远从中汲取的一天。

在你离开之前，确认一下你在斯坦福社区所拥有的数不尽的财富资源。斯坦福大学也是一部巨著。无论你可以从帕洛阿尔托走出去多远，你都可以依赖你已经织就的这永远的、丰富的以及多样的思想之网、知识之网和朋友之网。

记得彼此鼓励对方。如果你正让你的恐惧促使你开始一个严格地、可以极大地满足你一生的提炼过程，一个写你自己的两页、单行距的故事的过程，那么请提醒彼此，生活正变得越来越好。

而当你开始编辑你的人生巨著，开始决定留下什么、删去什么的时候，你会认识到对你本质而言真正的选择是什么。你会知道什么事情值得去做，而且会付诸行动。它会让你觉得既绝对惊讶又出乎意料的熟悉。

祝你好运，但更重要的是，我希望你勇敢、坚持不懈，并得到你所爱的那些人的支持。

我衷心地祝贺你们，祝贺你的母亲、父亲、家人以及所有的朋友。

谢谢你们!愿你们有一个伟大的人生!

Speech 3 Trade Easy Pleasures for More Complex and Challenging Ones 以简单的愉悦换取更复杂、更富有挑战性的快乐

演讲人简介：

Michael Dana Gioia (麦克·达那·乔伊亚)

1950年12月24日出生于洛杉矶一个工人阶级家庭，美国诗人

自2003年1月29日任职美国国家艺术基金会主席

他出生并成长于霍桑，他的父亲是西西里岛移民后代，母亲是加利福尼亚当地居民，兼具墨西哥和印度血统

1977年他到达纽约开始长达15年的经商生涯，最终成为美国通用食品公司的副总裁

1992年，离开商界，开始做全职作家

BBC美国文化和文学长期解说员

Good morning.

Thank you, President Hennessy.

It is a great honor to be asked to give the Commencement address at my alma mater. Although I have two degrees from Stanford, I still feel a bit like an interloper on this exquisitely beautiful campus. A person never really escapes his or her childhood.

At heart I’m still a working-class kid—half Italian, half Mexican—from L.A., or more precisely from Hawthorne, a city that most of this audience knows only as the setting of Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown—two films that capture the ineffable charm of my hometown.

Today is Father’s Day, so I hope you will indulge me for beginning on a personal note. I am the first person in my family ever to attend coelgle, and I owe my education to my father, who sacrificed nearly everything　togive his four children the best education possible.

My dad had a fairly hard life. He never spoke English until he went　to school. He barely survived a plane crash in World War II. He worked hard,but never had much success, except with his family.

When I was about 12, my dad told me that he hoped I would go　to Stanford, a place I had never heard of. For him, Stanford represented every success he had missed yet wanted for his children. He would be proud of me today—no matter how dull my speech.

On the other hand, I may be fortunate that my mother isn’t here. It isn’t Mother’s Day, so I can be honest. I olved her dearly, but she could be a challenge. For example, when she learned I had been nominated to be chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, she phoned and said,“Don’t think I’m impressed.”

I know that there was a bit of controversy when my name was announced as the graduation speaker. A few students were especially concerned that I lacked celebrity status. It seemed I wasn’t famous enough. I couldn’t agree more. As I have often told my wife and children,“I’m simply not famous enough.”

And that—in a more general and less personal sense—is the subject I want to address today, the fact that we live in a culture that barely acknowledges and rarely celebrates the arts or artists.

There is an experiment I’d love to conduct. I’d like to survey a crosssection of Americans and ask them how many active NBA players, Maj or League Baseball players, and American Idol finalists they can name.

Then I’d ask them how many living American poets, playwrights,painters, sculptors, architects, classical musicians, conductors, and composers they can name.

I’d even like to ask how many living American scientists or social thinkers they can name.

Fifty years ago, I suspect that along with Mickey Manet,l Willie Mays,and Sandy Koufax, most Americans could have named, at the very leas t,Robert Frost, Carl Sandburg, Arthur Miller, Thornton Wilder, Georgi a O’Keeffe, Leonard Bernstein, Leontyne Price, and Frank Lloyd Wright. Not to mention scientists and thinkers like Linus Pauling, Jonas Salk, Rachel Carson,Margaret Mead, and especially Dr. Alfred Kinsey.

I don’t think that Americans were smarter then, but American culture was. Even the mass media placed a greater emphasis on presenting a broa d range of human achievement.

I grew up mostly among immigrants, many of whom never learned to speak English. But at night watching TV variety programs like the Ed Sullivan Show or the Perry Como Music Hall, I saw—along with comedians, popular singers, and movie stars—classical musicians like Jascha Heifetz and Arthur Rubinstein, opera singers like Robert Merrill and Anna Moffo, and jazz greats like Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong captivate an audience of millions with their art.

The same was even true of literature. I first encountered Robert Fros t,John Steinbeck, Lillian Hellman, and James Baldwin on general interest TV shows. All of these people were famous to the average American—because the culture considered them important.

Today no working-class or immigrant kid would encounter that range of arts and ideas in the popular culture. Almost everything in our national culture, even the news, has been reduced to entertainment, or altogether eliminated.

The loss of recognition for artists, thinkers, and scientists has impoverished our culture in innumerable ways, but let me mention one. When virtually all of a culture’s celebrated figures are in sports or entertainment,how few possible role models we offer the young.

There are so many other ways to lead a successful and meaningful life that are not denominated by money or fame. Adult life begins in a child’s imagination, and we’ve relinquished that imagination to the marketplace.

Of course, I’m not forgetting that politicians can also be famous, bu t it is interesting how our political process grows more like the entertainment industry each year. When a successful guest appearance on the Colbert Report becomes more important than passing legislation, democracy gets scary. Nowonder Hollywood considers politics“show business for ugly people”.

Everything now is entertainment. And the purpose of this omnipresent commercial entertainment is to sell us something. American culture has mostly become one vast infomercial.

I have a reccurring nightmare. I am in Rome visiting the Sistine Chapel.I look up at Michelangelo’s incomparable fresco of the“Creation of Man”.I see God stretching out his arm to touch the reclining Adam’s finger. And then I notice in the other hand Adam is holding a Diet Pepsi.

When was the last time you have seen a featured guest on David Lettreman or Jay Leno who isn’t trying to sell you something？ A new movie, a new TV show, a new book, or a new vote？

Don’t get me wrong. I love entertainment, and I love the free market.I have a Stanford MBA and spent 15 years in the food industry. I adore my big-screen TV. The productivity and efficiency of the free market is beyon d dispute. It has created a society of unprecedented prosperity.

But we must remember that the marketplace does only one thing—it puts a price on everything.

The role of culture, however, must go beyond economics. It is not focused on the price of things, but on their value. And, above all, culture should tell us what is beyond price, including what does not belong in the marketplac e.A culture should also provide some cogent view of the good life beyond mass accumulation. In this respect, our culture is failing us.

There is only one social force in America potentially large and strong enough to counterbalance this profit driven commercialization of cultural values, our educational system, especially public education. Traditionally ,education has been one thing that our nation has agreed cannot be left entirely to the marketplace—but made mandatory and freely available to everyone.

At 56, I am just old enough to remember a time when every publi chigh school in this country had a music program with choir and band, usually a jazz band, too, sometimes even orchestra. And every high school offered a drama program, sometimes with dance instruction. And there were writing opportunities in the school paper and literary magazine, as well as studio art training.

I am sorry to say that these programs are no longer widely available t o the new generation of Americans. This once visionary and democratic system has been almost entirely dismantled by well meaning but myopic school boards, county commissioners, and state officials, with the federal government largely indifferent to the issue. Art became an expendable luxury, and 5 0million students have paid the price. Today a child’s access to arts education is largely a function of his or her parents’ income.

In a time of social progress and economic prosperity, why have we experienced this colossal cultural and political decline？ There are severa l reasons, but I must risk offending many friends and colleagues by saying that surely artists and intellectuals are partly to blame. Most American artists,intellectuals, and academics have lost their ability to converse with the rest of society. We have become wonderfully expert in talking to one another, but we have become almost invisible and inaudible in the general culture.

This mutual estrangement has had enormous cultural, social, and political consequences. America needs its artists and intellectuals, and they need to reestablish their rightful place in the general culture. If we could reopen the conversation between our best minds and the broader public, th e results would not only transform society but also artistic and intellectual life.

There is no better place to start this rapprochement than in arts education. How do we explain to the larger society the benefits of this civ ic investment when they have been convinced that the purpose of arts education is mostly to produce more artists—hardly a compelling argumentt o either the average taxpayer or financially strapped school board？

We need to create a new national consensus. The purpose of arts education is not to produce more artists, though that is a byproduct. The real purpose of arts education is to create complete human beings capable of leading successful and productive lives in a free society.

This is not happening now in American schools. Even if you forget the larger catastrophe that only 70 percent of American kids now graduate from high school, what are we to make of a public education system whose highest goal seems to be producing minimally competent entry-level workers？

The situation is a cultural and educational disaster, but it also has huge and alarming economic consequences. If the United States is to compete effectively with the rest of the world in the new global marketplace, it is not going to succeed through cheap labor or cheap raw materials, nor even the free flow of capital or a streamlined industrial base. To compete successfully, this country needs continued creativity, ingenuity, and innovation.

It is hard to see those qualities thriving in a nation whose education al system ranks at the bottom of the developed world and has mostl yeliminated the arts from the curriculum.

I have seen firsthand the enormous transformative power of the arts—in the lives of individuals, in communities, and even society at large.

Marcus Aurelius believed that the course of wisdom consisted of learning to trade easy pleasures for more complex and challenging ones. I worry about a culture that bit by bit trade off the challenging plaesures of art for the easy comforts of entertainment. And that is exactly what is happening—not just in the media, but in our schools and civic life.

Entertainment promises us a predictable pleasure—humor, thrills,emotional titillation, or even the odd delight of being vicariously terrified. It exploits and manipulates who we are rather than challenges us with a vision of who we might become. A child who spends a month mastering Halo or NBA Live on Xbox has not been awakened and transformed the way that child would be spending the time rehearsing a play or learning to draw.

If you don’t believe me, you should read the statistical studies that a re now coming out about American civic participation. Our country is dividin g into two distinct behavioral groups. One group spends most of its free time sitting at home as passive consumers of electronic entertainment. Even family communication is breaking down as members increasingly spend their time alone, staring at their individual screens.

The other group also uses and enjoys the new technology, but these individuals balance it with a broader range of activities. They go out—to exercise, play sports, volunteer and do charity work at about three times the level of the first group. By every measure they are vastly more active a nd socially engaged than the first group.

What is the defining difference between passive and active citizens？Curiously, it isn’t income, geography, or even education. It depends on whether or not they read for pleasure and participate in the arts. These cultural activities seem to awaken a heightened sense of individual awareness and social responsibility.

Why do these issues matter to you？ This is the culture you are abo ut to enter. For the last few years you have had the privilege of being at one of the world’s greatest universities—not only studying, but being a part of　a community that takes arts and ideas seriously. Even if you spent mosot f your free time watching Grey’s Anatomy, playing Guitar Hero, or Facebookin g your friends, those important endeavors were balanced by courses an d conversations about literature, politics, technology, and ideas.

Distinguished graduates, your support system is about to end. And yo u now face the choice of whether you want to be a passive consumer or an active citizen. Do you want to watch the world on a screen or live in it so meaningfully that you change it？

That’s no easy task, so don’t forget what the arts provide.

Art is an irreplaceable way of understanding and expressing the world—equal to but distinct from scientific and conceptual methods. Art addresse s us in the fullness of our being—simultaneously speaking to our intellect,emotions, intuition, imagination, memory, and physical senses. There are some truths about life that can be expressed only as stories, or songs, or images.

Art delights, instructs, consoles. It educates our emotions. And it remembers. As Robert Frost once said about poetry,“It is a way of remembering that which it would impoverish us to forget.”Art awakens,enlarges, refines, and restores our humanity. You don’t outgrow art. The same work can mean something different at each stage of your life. A good book changes as you change.

My own art is poetry, though my current daily life sometimes makes me forget that. So let me end my remarks with a short poem appropriate to the occasion：PRAISE TO THE RITUALS THAT CELEBRATE CHANGEPraise to the rituals that celebrate change,old robes worn for new beginnings,solemn protocol where the mutable soul,surrounded by ancient experience, growsyoung in the imagination’s white dress.Because it is not the rituals we honorbut our trust in what they signify, these ritesthat honor us as witnesses—whether to watchlovers swear loyalty in a careless worldor a newborn washed with water and oil.So praise to innocence—impulsive and evergreen—and let the old be touched by youth’swayward astonishment at learning something new,and dream of a future so fitting and so justthat our desire will bring it into being.

Congratulations to the Class of 2007.

汉语回放(尚地 译)

早上好。

谢谢你，亨尼斯校长。

很荣幸被邀请来我的母校作这次毕业典礼演讲。尽管我从斯坦福大学获得了两个学位，我依然觉得自己在这优美的校园中像是一个入侵者。

一个人无法彻底摆脱他的童年。从内心上讲，我仍然是个工人阶级家庭的孩子——一半是意大利血统，一半是墨西哥血统。我来自洛杉矶，或者更准确地说，来自霍桑。也就是大多数观众从昆汀·塔伦蒂诺的《低俗小说》和《危险关系》中认识到的那个霍桑一样——那是两部抓住了我家乡那不可言喻的魅力的电影。

今天是父亲节，所以我希望大家能够允许我用我自己的事迹来开始我的演讲。我是我们家里第一个考上大学的人，我把我受的教育归功于我父亲，他几乎牺牲了一切来让我们四个孩子尽可能获得最好的教育。

我父亲一生非常艰苦。他直到上学时都不会说英语。在二战一次飞机失事中他险些丧生。他工作卖力，但除了家庭之外没什么成功可言。

大概在我12岁的时候，我父亲告诉我说他希望我能够去斯坦福，一个我从没听说过的地方。对他来说，斯坦福代表着他所错过的，但却为孩子所期盼的一切成功之事。不管今天我的演讲是多么的枯燥乏味，他都应当会为我感到骄傲。

另一方面，我也许应该庆幸我的母亲不在这里。今天不是母亲节，所以我可以实话实说。我深爱着她，但是她却是我的一个挑战。比如说，当她得知我被提名为国家艺术基金会主席的时候，她打电话跟我说：“不要觉得自己很了不起。”

我知道，当我被宣布为毕业典礼发言人时确实产生了一些争议。有些同学非常介意我缺少显赫的名人身份这件事。我也确实同意我是不够有名。就像我经常对我的妻子和孩子说的那样：“我确实不够有名。”

而这——以更普遍而非个人的观点——就是我今天想表达的主题，事实上，我们生活在一种缺乏认同，以及很少颂扬艺术或艺术家的文化氛围中。

这里我很想做一个实验。我想调查一部分来自于社会各个阶层的国人，问他们能够说出多少现役NBA球员、美国棒球大联盟球员，以及美国偶像复赛选手的名字。

然后我要问他们能说出多少在世的美国诗人、剧作家、画家、雕塑家、建筑家、古典音乐家、指挥家以及作曲家的名字。

我更想问问他们能叫出多少在世的美国科学家或是社会思想家的名字。

五十年前，我猜大多数美国人除了能脱口而出米奇·曼托、威廉·梅斯以及桑迪·考法克斯之外，至少能够说出罗伯特·弗罗斯特、卡尔·桑德堡、亚瑟·米勒、逊尔顿·威德尔、乔治亚·奥吉弗、雷昂纳德·伯恩斯坦、李奥汀·普莱丝以及弗兰克·罗伊德·莱特，更不用说莱纳斯·鲍林、约纳斯·索克、蕾切尔·卡逊、玛格丽特·米德这样的人，尤其是阿尔弗雷德·金赛博士这样的科学家和思想家。

我不认为那时的美国人更聪明一些，不过那时的美国文化倒确实是。就连大众媒体都更加注重对众多的人类成就进行展示。

我主要是在移民人群中长大的，他们中的许多人从未学过英语。但是每当晚上看着各种各样的电视节目，比如 《艾德·苏利文秀》或者 《派瑞柯莫音乐大厅》时，我看到从喜剧演员、流行歌手，到电影明星——比如古典音乐家亚莎·海菲兹和阿图尔·鲁宾斯坦，歌剧演员罗伯特·梅里尔和安娜·莫福，还有爵士乐巨星艾灵顿公爵以及路易斯·阿姆斯特朗，他们都用自己的艺术俘获了成千上万的观众的心。

在文学方面情况也是如此。我第一次见到罗伯特·弗罗斯特，约翰·斯坦贝克，莉莲·赫尔曼以及詹姆斯·鲍德温是在大众电视秀上。他们在美国普通民众中很受欢迎——因为当时的文化氛围认为他们很重要。

现如今，没有工人阶级或是移民人群的子弟能够在流行文化中看到如此广泛的艺术及思想。几乎我们国家文化中的一切东西，甚至是新闻，都被降低至娱乐层面或是被彻底淘汰。

对艺术家、思想家还有科学家的认知缺失，已导致了我们的文化在无数方面枯竭。不过请允许我指出一点。当几乎所有文化名人都集中在体育界或是娱乐界的时候，那么我们可以树立给年轻人的榜样少的多么可怜。

除了金钱和名誉，我们还有很多途径获取一个成功的、有意义的人生。成人的生活始于孩提时的想象力，而我们却已把想象力抛给了市场。

当然，我没有忘记，政客也可以出名。但是有趣的是，我们的政治进程是如何逐年地发展得越来越像娱乐产业。当出现在《科尔伯特报告》中的一个成功政客比通过一项法案更重要的时候，民主也变得惊慌失措。难怪好莱坞认为政治是“丑人的秀场”。

现在所有的东西都被娱乐化了。而且这无处不在的商业娱乐，目的是要向我们销售东西。美国文化几乎变成了一个大型名人导购节目。

我经常做一个噩梦。梦中我在罗马参观西斯廷大教堂。我抬头看着米开朗琪罗那无与伦比的壁画《创世记》，然后我看到上帝伸出胳膊去触摸亚当靠过来的手指。这时我却发现，亚当的另一只手里竟拿着一瓶百事健怡可乐。

你最后一次在大卫·莱特曼或杰伊·莱诺特的节目中看到的嘉宾不是在试图推销东西给你是什么时候？哪一部新电影、新的电视节目、新书、新的竞选不是在推销东西给你？

别误会。我喜欢娱乐，而且热爱自由的市场。我获得过斯坦福大学的工商管理学硕士学位并且在食品行业做过15年。我喜欢我的大屏幕电视，自由市场的生产力和效率是毋庸置疑的。它已经创造出了一个空前繁荣的社会。

但是我们必须记住，市场仅仅做一件事情——赋予一切事物价格。

然而，文化扮演的角色必须超越经济。它侧重的不是事物的价格，而是其价值。并且，最重要的是，文化应该告诉我们什么东西是无价的，包括什么东西是不属于市场范畴内的。除了物质积累以外，文化应当提供一种关于良好生活的更具说服力的观点。在这方面，我们的文化是失败的。

在美国，只有一种具有潜质的社会力量能够强大到去抗衡这种利益驱动下的商业化文化价值，那就是我们的教育体制，尤其是公共教育。从传统上讲，教育是我们国家所肯定的、不能完全交给市场的一个领域——而应该是强制性的，并且对每个人都是免费开放的领域。

我已经56岁了，年纪已经足够大了，但我依然记得那个国内每所公立高中都有音乐课的时代，这些课程配备有合唱队和乐队，通常还都是爵士乐队，有时甚至有交响乐团。那时候每所高中都提供戏剧表演课程，有时候还附带舞蹈教学。在学校里，还有在校报和文学杂志上发表作品的机会，也有学校艺术培训工作室。

我很遗憾地说，这些课程已经不再广泛地提供给新一代美国人了。这个曾经极富远见的民主系统已经彻底被看似好意却目光短浅的学校董事会、教育局官员、州政府官员所瓦解了，而联邦政府对这个问题的漠视也助长了这个系统的消亡。艺术已经变成了奢侈的消费品，并且有五千万学生已经为此埋单。如今一个孩子要想接触艺术教育，那就基本要靠他父母的收入了。

在这个社会进步、经济繁荣的时代，我们为什么反而要经历这巨大的文化和政治制度的倒退呢？这里存在着一些原因，但是我必须冒险触犯许多朋友和同事，毫无疑问，一部分艺术家和知识分子在一定程度上是要受到批评的。美国很多的艺术家、知识分子还有大学老师已经丧失了和社会交流的能力。我们已经变得特别擅长和圈内的人交流，但我们却几乎变得让大众看不见听不到我们了。

这种相互间的疏远已经导致了巨大的文化、社会以及政治上的一系列后果。美国需要它的艺术家和知识分子们在大众文化中重新找到自己合理的位置。如果我们能够重新开启我们伟大的思想家和广大群众之间的对话，那么其结果不仅会转变社会，还能够转变艺术和文化生活。

恢复这种友好邦交的最好起点就是艺术教育。那么，在人们已经深信艺术教育的目的就是为了培养更多的艺术家的时候，我们怎样向广大社会解释市政投资的好处呢？几乎没有一种有力的说法来说服普通纳税人和陷于财政危机的学校董事会。

我们需要创造一种新的全民共识。尽管艺术家是艺术教育的副产品，但艺术教育的目的不是要培养更多的艺术家。艺术教育的真正目的是要创造能够在自由社会中生活得成功且有创造力的完整的人类。

这些在现今的美国学校里还没有发生。即便你忘记了只有70%的美国孩子高中毕业这个大灾难，但在一个最高目标似乎就是培养仅仅能够胜任初级操作水平的工人的教育体制中，我们又能指望它能给我们带来什么呢？

这种状况是文化和教育的灾难，同时它也会导致巨大的、令人惊悚的经济后果。如果美国想在新的全球市场中和其他国家进行有效竞争的话，它既不会在廉价劳动力或是原材料方面，更不会在自由的资金流或是流水化的工业基础上获取成功。要想竞争成功，我们的国家需要的是持续的创造力、独创性和不断地革新。

在一个教育体制在发达国家中排名垫底，而且几乎消灭了教育中的艺术气氛的国家，这些品质的繁荣是很难想象的。

我亲眼所见艺术那惊人的转变力量——无论是在个人生活中，还是在团体中，甚至是在整个社会生活中。

马克·奥勒留斯认为，懂得用简单的快乐换取更复杂、更富有挑战性的东西组成了智慧的要素。我担心我们的文化，它把艺术那具有挑战性的快乐，用来一点一点地换取娱乐那轻松的享受。而这正是现在所发生的——不仅在我们的媒体中，也在我们的学校和大众生活中。

娱乐许诺给我们预料之中的快乐——幽默、紧张、情感上的愉悦，或者是因间接的恐吓产生的奇怪的快乐。它利用和操纵我们“我是谁”的心理，而不是用“我们能够成为谁”的心理来挑战自己。一个用一个月时间来玩好《光晕》或是《劲爆男篮》游戏的孩子，并不能像用同样时间来排练剧本或是学习画画的孩子那样发生转变和产生觉悟。

如果你不相信我的话，那么你应该去读读刚出来的关于美国公民参与度的统计调查。我们国家正分化成两种截然不同的行为群体。一组人作为电子娱乐的被动消费者，把大部分业余时间花在了坐在家里。由于家庭成员越来越多地把时间用来独处，盯着他们各自的屏幕，家庭交流甚至都被打断了。

另一组人同样在使用和享受新科技，不过这些人把它和其他更多的活动平衡开来。他们走向户外——锻炼身体，进行体育活动，当志愿者，做慈善活动，他们用于这类活动的时间是第一类人的三倍。从各个角度来衡量，他们都远远比第一类人更活跃且社会参与度更高。

那么消极和积极的公民在定义上的区别是什么呢？奇怪的是，不是收入、地域，也不是教育。它取决于他们是否努力去获取快乐和参与艺术活动。这些文化活动似乎唤醒了人们更高的自我意识和社会责任感。

为什么这些问题对你来说重要呢？因为这是你将要进入的文化。在过去的几年中，你有留在一所世界级大学中的特权——不仅包括学习，还包括成为一个严谨对待艺术和思想的团体中的一员。尽管你用大部分业余时间来看《实习医生格蕾》，玩《吉他英雄》游戏，或是上脸谱网和朋友联系，这些重要的活动却都被关于文学、政治、科技以及思想的课程和交流均衡了。

优秀的毕业生们，你们的支持体系马上就要结束了。你们现在就面临着选择，是成为消极的消费者，还是积极的参与者？你们是想透过屏幕来了解世界，还是想充满意义地身处其中并且去改变它呢？

在两者中作出选择可不是一项简单的任务，所以别忘了艺术所能够提供的东西。

艺术是一种不可取代的了解和表达世界的方式。它等同于但是又区别于科学以及概念方式。艺术在适当的时候告诉你我们的存在——与此同时与我们的智慧、情感、本能、想象、记忆以及感官进行对话。有些生活的真谛只能通过故事、歌曲或者图像来表达。

艺术给人快乐、指导还有慰藉。它培育我们的情感。它让我们铭记。正如罗伯特·弗罗斯特谈到诗歌时所说的：“它唤起了我们所要遗忘的。”艺术使我们的人性觉醒，扩展，升华，恢复。你不会脱离艺术而成长。同样的工作在你人生不同的阶段会有不同的意义。一本好书会随着你的改变而改变。

我本身的艺术领域是诗歌，虽然我现在的日常生活有时会让我忘记这一点。所以，请允许我用一首适合今天场合的小诗来结束我的演讲吧：让我们歌颂那赞美变化的仪式歌颂那赞美变化的仪式，穿起旧长袍，来迎接新的开始。在庄严的仪式上，被古老经验所包围的易变的灵魂，身着洁白的想象之衣，变得更加年轻。因为这不是我们所尊敬的仪式。但我们相信它所象征的东西，这些仪式让我们觉得有幸目睹——不管是恋人在冷漠的世界中山盟海誓还是新生儿在油和水中接受洗礼。所以赞美天真——冲动和常青——让老者被年轻人学习新事物时那捉摸不定的惊讶触动，梦想未来是那么的合适与公正。让我们的渴望将它实现。

祝贺2007届全体同学!

Speech 4 Get out and Make Things Happen 走出去并使之成为可能

演讲人简介：

David M. Kennedy (大卫·肯尼迪)

大卫·肯尼迪出生于美国西雅图

在斯坦福大学获得历史学学士学位，在耶鲁大学获得哲学硕士和博士学位

美国历史普利策奖获得者

负责编写美国人口历史学教科书《美国盛会》

凭借著作《美国人口控制》获得“班克罗夫特奖”

拥有两个儿子、一个女儿

斯坦福大学历史学教授

大卫·肯尼迪建议广大学生：将你的双手放在历史的车轮上，推动世界进步

I have three short stories, one historical reflection, one piece of advice and one translation.

The first story is about my very own afvorite professor. And for that reason, it’s autobiographical. When I was about your age, and graduatio n was approaching, I decided it was time to venture off campus and have a look around. And I discovered something that I want to share with you befroe it’s too late: College was the easy part. Now it gets hard. I know college h as seemed hard—all those papers and exams and labs and problem sets. B ut three things have made it easy: freedom, forgiveness and indulgence. All three of those are about to disappear from your lives.

Think about the freedom part. Consider what you’re going to miss: no more mid day naps, no more spring breaks, no more three-week Christmas holidays, no more three month summer vacations, no more skipping classes when you feel like it, no more choosing to study only what you want, no more avoiding all classes before 11 a.m. —and most painful of all, no more daytime TV.

As for the forgiveness: Well, outside the bosom of your family, you will never again be in such a forgiving environment as the one that has nurtured you here at Stanford. If you oversleep and miss class, hey, just gesto mebody else’s notes. Miss an exam question, just ace the next one. Paper no good？ Ask to rewrite it. Course too tough？ Take it credit. Flunk the course—or, wors e,get a B-minus—just repeat it. Not prepared for the final exam？ Get a doctor’s excuse (or arrange to have a grandparent die) and take it later.

But out there beyond the Palm Tree Curtain—well, suffice it to say it’s a jungle out there. Oversleep and lose your job. Turn in the wrong results and get sued. And just try to see a doctor.

And as for indulgence, let me tell you something: For four years my colleagues and I have been paid to read your papers, to answer yo ur questions, to listen to your comments, recommend you for grants and jobs and internships.

No one will ever be obligated to do this again. If your writing is not clear, original and compelling, nobody will read it. If your comments are not trenchant and factual, nobody will listen. Out there in that jungle called the real world, nobody cares, nobody listens, nobody notices—unless you’re really good.

So, I figured all this out about 40 years ago, when I came back from that expedition off campus, and I’ve never left it again. I know I’m sharing this with you at the eleventh hour, but I apologize for not being in touch sooner.

Now for a bit of historical reflection. It’s customary on occasions like this for speakers to try to reach across the generational divide—to attempt to bridge the cultural chasm that leaves me unable to program a VCR and leads you to labor under the assumption that Paul Newman has always made salad dressing and that Michael Jackson has always been white. Commencement speaker s by the thousands struggle every springtime to find some intergenerational connection—some element of comparison or contrast that links the historical moment in which their own graduation was set to the historical circumstances that will now face the graduates they face—usually by way of suggestin g that back in the day the winters were colder, the snowdrtisf higher, the gruel thinner, the hardships harder, and by comparison your lives are cushy and privileged and the road has been paved for you with the blood, sweat and tears of your eternally toiling forebears, and you’d darn well better—well, you get the picture.

But the fact is that my generation had the unexampled good fortune of being given much of our allotted time on this Earth during what the novelits Philip Roth has called“the greatest moment of collective inebriation i n American history.”He referred to that giddy, prosperous, self-confiden t post-World War II era when anything seemed possible, and lots of previously unimaginable things were indeed possible—like a college education for this grandson of a railroad section boss and a coal miner.

So I want to go back to a moment before both my time and yours—t he World War II era—by way of suggesting something that’s new and more than a little troubling under history’s sun in this year of grace 2005.

From the time of the ancient Greeks through the American Revolutionary War and well down into the 20th century, the obligation to bear arms and the privileges of citizenship were intimately linked. From Aristotle’s Athens to Machiavelli’s Florence and Rembrandt’s Amsterdam and John Adams’Boston and beyond, to be a full citizen was to stand ready to shoulder arms. It’s why the founders of this country were so concerned with militias and so worried about standing armies, about which Samuel Adams said,“A standing army,however necessary it may be at some times, is always dangerous to the liberties of the people.”It’s why Franklin Roosevelt could boast about those GIs as“the greatest generation”who landed in Normandy on D Day in 1944. And he said,“Our sons, pride of the nation. They yearn but for the end of bat,t le for their return to the haven of home.”It’s why African Americans were so eager to serve in World Wars I and II, to secure their full claim t ocitizenship rights. For more than two millennia, the tradition of the citizen soldier ha s served the indispensable purposes of sustaining civic engagement, protceting individual liberty—and guaranteeing political accountability.

None of you is liable to the obligation of service, and very, very few of you will ever taste battle. In another era, exemption from that obligation would have disqualified you from full citizenship. Maybe it will yet.

To be sure, we hire what I call the modern American mercenary army internally (unlike the hated Hessians that King George III employed in trying to extinguish the American Revolution). But it is nonetheless an all-volunteer force that signs up for some mighty dangerous work primarily for wages and benefits, a compensation package that may not always be commensurate with the dangers in store, as current recruiting problems testify.Now I am emphatically not impugning either the idealism or the patriotism of those who serve today. I happen to believe that the profseison of arms is a noble calling. And I see no shame whatsoever in wage labor. But the fac t remains that we have evolved a force that is extraordinarily lean, mean and lethal—and that has an unprecedented asymmetrical relation both to the world around us and to our own society. Now let me explain what it is about that compound asymmetry that I find worrisome.

First, the relation of the U.S. military to the rest of the wodr:l By some reckonings, the United States’ military budget is greater than the militar y expenditures of all other nations combined. That money buys an arsenal of smart, precision weapons and the skilled operators to fire them that can lay down a coercive footprint in the world larger and more intimidating than anything history has ever seen. Now, we believe that our armed forces seek only just goals and at the end of the day will be understood as exerting a benign influence. But that perspective may not come so easily to those who find themselves on the receiving end of that supposedly beneficent violence.Here, surely, is why so many people, even our sister societies in Europe and North America, regard us with wariness and apprehension.

But the second element of what I’ve called the“compound asymmetry”of America’s military relationship to the world and to society ,the second element of this compound asymmetry is even more troubling. It concerns the military’s place in the larger context of American society itself—and here the historical comparison with the World War II era comes into especially sharp and telling focus. From the inauguration of the draft in 1940through the second world War’s end just 60 years ago in 1945, the United States put some 16 million men and several thousand women into uniform.What’s more, it mobilized the economic, social and psychological resources of the society down to the last factory and railcar and victory garden. World War II was a“total war.”It compelled the mass participation of all citizens and the commitment of virtually all the society’s energies to secure the ultimate victory.

But thanks to something called the“revolution in military affair,s” a product of the last decade and a half that has wedded the achievements of the newest electronic and information technologies to the destructive purposes of history’s second-oldest profession, we now have an active-duty military establishment that is proportionate to population about 4 percent—1/25th—of the size of the force that fought in World War II. What’s more, in the behemoth$11 trillion American economy, the fruits of which we all enjoy, the total military budget is now less than 4 percent of gross domestic product. In World War II it was more than 40 percent—a greater than tenfold difference in the relative incidence of the military’s claim on the society’s overall resources.

Now the implications of this seem to me to be pretty clear: History’s most deadly and destructive military force can now be put into the field by a society that scarcely breaks a sweat when it does so—that force and that situation puts at risk very few of its sons and daughters, and only those who go willingly into harm’s way. Our society neither asks nor requires any significant material deprivations on the part of the citizens in whose name that force is ultimaltye being deployed.

I believe this is not a healthy situation. It is, among other things, a standing invitation to the kind of military adventurism that the Founders correctly feared was among the greatest danger of standing armies—a danger that in their day was made manifest in the career of Napoleon Bonaparte.Thomas Jefferson said of Bonaparte that he“Transferred the destinies of the republic from the civil to the military arm. Some wi lulse this as a lesson against the practicability of republican government.”Said Jefferson,“I read it as a lesson against the danger of standing armies.”

I recognize that some, perhaps many, of you may find it offensive to call today’s armed forces a“mercenary army,”and I repeat that I am in no way impugning the motives or the loyalties of those who are currently serving. But they are surely not the members of the citizen army that w e fielded two generations ago—drawn from all ranks of society, whitout respect to background or privilege or education, and an army mobilized on such a scale that civilian society’s deep and durable consent to the shaping an d the use of that force was absolutely necessary. Leaving questions of equity aside, I for one cannot believe that it is healthy rfo democracy to let such an important function—the application of military force—to grow so far removed from popular participation and accountability. It makes some supremely important things too easy—like dealing out death and destruction to others and seeking military solutions on the assumption they will be swifter and more cheaply bought than those that could be accomplished by the slower and more vexatious business of diplomacy. And the life of a robuts democratic society should be, in some measure at least, a strenuous life, one that makes demands on its citizens, especially when they are asked to engage with issues of life and death.

So let me turn to my second story, one that brings us back a littl ecloser to home. It’s a story about two people from Stanford’s founding era. One of the great figures who taught on Stanford’s faculty in the early days was William James, the distinguished Harvard psychologist and philosopher and th e brother of the greatest of all American novelists, Henry James. Not far from this very spot, he once gave a talk called“Stanford’s Ideal Destiny.”In it he conjured a vision of Stanford 100 years in the futrue—just about now. He said:“Can we not frame a vision of what Stanford may be a century hence,with all the honors of the intervening years rolled up in its traditions？ Not vast,but intense; devoted to truth; radiating influence, setting standards; shedding abroad the fruits of learning; mediating between America and Asia.”

Now that spirit—so obviously ambitious, world-beating, almost immodest in its energy and reach—still pulses robustly on this campus today.I’m sure you have been touched by it; indeed, have contributed to it. It’s among the things that make Stanford great and distinctive. It’s probably among the reasons why you came here.

But another spirit abides here as well—and it, too, comes down to us from the earliest days of the university, and I hope it’s one that we’ve managed to pass on to you, along with all the skills we’ve presumably imparted to equip you to be world beatingly victorious out there in the fabled rat race that awaits you.

When David Starr Jordan, Stanford’s first president, arrived in California, he took himself around the state to recruit students for the brand new university. In the standard little talk he gave, he did not dwell especiall y on the newness of Stanford, or its ambition, or its energy, or how it would equip those young Californians to make their way in the hugger-mugger Darwinian struggle of the frontier West. He struck another kind of note altogether—a note that sang of the values of serenity and contemplation. He spoke to those young people more than 100 years ago not so much about the necessity of making a living as about the importance of making a life. He talked about the value of the humanities—about what used to be called a liberal arts education. He put it this way:“To turn from the petty troubles of the day to the thoughts of the masters is to go from the noise of the street through the doors of a cathedral.If you learn to unlock those portals, no power on Earth can ever take from you the key. The whole of your life must be spent in your own company, and on ly the educated man is good company for himself.”

Now it’s appropriate for us, I think, to remind ourselves on a day like this of both of these legacies from Stanford’s founding. The one as much as the other makes up the essence of this place, and together they compose the gift that we hope you will take away from here.

My third story is very brief, and it leads to my concluding piece of advice. In those early Stanford days, in the end of the 19th century, it w as still common, especially out here in the West and even more especially in the regions where the railroad had not yet reached, for people to travel　by stagecoach. And most stagecoach lines in those days offered three categories of ticket: first class, second class and third class. A first-class ticket gave the passenger a guarantee that no matter what happened en route, he or she would arrive at the destination in good shape. A second-class ticket guaranteed arrival, but also provided that in case of difficulty en route—a mudslide that might have closed the road or a broken axle on the wagon—the passenger could be asked to step out of the coach for a period of time and waiutn til the problem was overcome. A third-class ticket carried the stipulation that in case of difficulty the holder of such a ticket would be expected　tgoet out, to go to work with pickax or shovel, put a shoulder to the wheel and help to get th e show on the road again.

Stanford is a first class institution, and the sheepskin you’ll be handed tomorrow is a first class ticket to the rest of your life. My advice to you is don’t take it. I don’t mean don’t take your diploma—of course you should take it.

You’ve earned it and your parents would be aghast if you didn’t take it. But don’t take the first- or even the second class route through life. Go third class.

Don’t be too comfortable. Don’t be a bystander. Get out and make thing s happen. Get dirty. Put your shoulder to the wheel. Make the world move. And don’t make the mistake of thinking that military service is something that can be safely left to the other passengers.

Finally, the promised translation. The document I want to translate for you is two lines of a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks. She said:E xhaust the little moment. Soon it dies.And be it gash or gold it will not come again in identical disguise.

Here’s the translation: Carpe diem.

Good luck, and Godspeed.

汉语回放(梁春阳 译)

我要讲三个短小的故事，一个是关于历史的反思，一个是一条忠告，最后一个是一段译文。

第一个故事是有关我自己非常喜欢的一位教授的。出于这个原因，这个故事是自传体的。我在你们这个年龄，临近毕业的时候，我想是离开校园去到处走走看看的时候了。在不算太晚的时候，我发现了一些我想与大家一起分享的事：以前大学是最容易的部分，现在变难了。我知道大学看起来似乎很难——这些论文啊，测试啊，实验和习题集啊，但是有三样东西使它们变得容易：自由、宽容和放纵。所有这三样东西都即将从你们的生命中消失。

想想自由的部分。考虑一下你将不再拥有的东西：不再有午睡时间，不再有春假，不再有为期三周的圣诞假期，不再有三个月的暑假，当你觉得很想逃课的时候也不能再逃课，不能再选择你想学的课程，不能再避开上午11点前的课程——最痛苦的是，不能在白天看电视。

至于宽恕：嗯，除了你的家庭之外，你将永远不会再有像斯坦福大学这样培养你的如此宽容的环境了。在斯坦福，如果你睡过头耽误了课程，嘿，只要得到别人的笔记就行；漏掉考试题，只要在下次取得好成绩就行；论文不好？申请重写；课程太难？拿到学分就行；考试课程不及格或者更糟一点，得到了B减，只要重考就行；没有准备期末考试？拿到医生的证明(或者安排有祖父母去世)随后再补也行。

但离开这棕榈树的遮蔽或者可以不过分地说，外面就是丛林。在棕榈树外面的丛林世界里，如果你睡过头失去工作，或者由于你上交错误的结果得到投诉，只要设法去看医生就行了。

至于宽容，让我告诉你：4年来，我和我的同事阅读你们的论文，回答你们的问题，倾听你们的意见，推荐你们申请补助金、工作和实习，这一切工作我们一直都是没有薪水的。

没有人会再一次义务地为你们做这些。如果你的作品不明确、不新颖、不引人注意，那没有人会去读它；如果你的意见不够犀利、不够实事求是，没人会去听它；在外面那片被称为“现实世界”的丛林中，如果你不够优秀，就没人关心、没人倾听、没人注意你。

所以早在40年前当我从校外探险队回来后，我就把这一切弄清楚了，并且从此没离开过这一切。我知道我是在这最后一刻与你们分享这些，然而，我为没能及早与你们分享而感到抱歉。

现在讲一下历史反思。一般在这种场合下，演讲者会努力跨越与听众间的代沟，努力架设文化鸿沟间的桥梁。这些代沟使我不能不播放一段录像，这段录像中我们假设保罗·纽曼(美国著名演员、赛车选手、慈善家)经常做沙拉酱，迈克尔·杰克逊一直是白种人，这一切会给你们徒增烦恼。每年春天数以千计的毕业典礼演讲人都会去寻找两代人之间的连接点，去寻找一些他们那一代人生存的历史时刻和我们当今这一代人所面对的历史时刻之间形成对比或者对照的元素——这些对比通常会提示我们诸如过去的冬天更冷、雪堆更高、粥更稀、苦难更多等一类事情，以此来提醒我们：当今我们的生活更轻松、特权更多，我们那受苦受难的祖先用鲜血、汗水和泪水为我们铺就的道路我们应该好好维护等，具体情况你们可以想象得到。

但事实是，我们这一代人的好运是前所未有的。在小说家菲利普·罗斯称做“美国史上最伟大的集体沉醉时刻”的时期里，在这个地球上我们得到了更多的可分配时间。他提到眩晕、繁荣，拥有很多可能性的、自信的后二战时代，许多先前难以想象的事情变得确实可能——就像铁路部门老板和煤矿工人的孙子可以享受大学教育一样。

所以我想回到你我之前的那个时代——第二次世界大战的时代——通过这样的方式，我们在公元2005年，在历史的照耀下去谈论一些新生的但是非常不明朗的事情。

从古老的古希腊时代经由美国独立战争时期一直到20世纪，当兵的义务始终和公民的特权是紧密联系在一起的。从雅典的亚里士多德，到佛罗伦萨的马基雅弗利，从阿姆斯特丹的伦勃朗，到波士顿的约翰·亚当斯等等，要想成为一个完全的公民就意味着要时刻准备肩扛武器。这就是为什么这个国家的创始人是如此关心民兵组织，如此担心常备军。正如塞缪尔·亚当斯所说：“在某些时刻，一支常备军非常必要，但很多时候常备军会威胁人民的自由。”这就是为什么富兰克林·罗斯福可以吹嘘那些在1944年的军事攻击日登陆诺曼底的美国兵为“最伟大的一代”。他说，“我们的儿子，国家的骄傲。他们渴望的不是结束战斗，而是回家。”这就是非裔美国人非常渴望加入到第一次世界大战和第二次世界大战中的原因，他们就为了确保他们充分的公民的权利。两千多年过去了，传统的民兵在维持市民参与，保护公民个人自由和保障政治问责机制方面起到了不可或缺的作用。

你们谁都不承担服役义务，你们中极少的几个人将会体验战斗。在下一个时代，豁免那项义务就会使你们完全丧失公民的权利。也许会是这样。

的确，我们在内部雇用了我所谓的“现代美国雇佣兵军队”(与乔治三世国王招募的那些可恨的黑森雇佣兵不同，黑森雇佣兵旨在压制美国解放战争)。但是尽管如此，一支志愿兵军队主要是为了工资和福利而参加非常危险的工作，补偿方案与存在的风险是不相称的，就像目前证实招聘问题一样。现在我断然不能指责这些服兵役的理想主义者和爱国主义者。我突然相信武器的职业是一种高尚的称呼。我在雇佣劳工方面看不到任何羞耻。但事实是，我们已经形成一股极其倾斜、卑鄙和致命的力量，这股力量与我们周边的世界以及我们社会本身形成一种空前不对称的关系。现在让我来解释一下“复合不对称”，我发现其令人担心。

首先，美国军队与世界各地的关系：从一些计算来说，美国的军事预算比其他国家的军事支出的总和还要多。那笔钱买了一座小型机械库、精密的武器和能够熟练地操作这些精密武器的技术人员。这样他们可以在更广的世界范围内留下列强的足迹，这种场面将比历史上任何场面都更恐怖。现在，我们相信我们的武装力量仅仅是在寻求目标，在某一天结束的时候我们会被理解为是在发挥良性的影响。但是对那些发现自己居于假定的仁慈的暴力末端的人来讲，这个观点可不那么容易说得过去。当然，这也是为什么有这么多的人，甚至是我们在欧洲和北美洲的姐妹协会，都警惕和防备我们。

而我所说的第二元素，美国与世界和社会的“复合不对称”的军事关系，这种复合不对称的第二元素甚至更加麻烦。它涉及到美国社会大背景下军队本身的地位——这与第二次世界大战时期的历史比较更加突出，更加明显。从1940年的草案通过到第二次世界大战结束至今仅有60年，在1945年美国招募1600万男人和几千名妇女入伍。更重要的是，它促使经济资源、社会资源和心理资源转向最后一个工厂、有轨车和胜利的花园。第二次世界大战是一场全面战争。它迫使全体民众大规模参与其中并付出几乎所有的社会资源来保证最终的胜利。

然而感谢所谓的“军事革命”，它是近15年来的成果，结合了最新的电子与信息技术，毁灭了历史上第二古老的职业。现在我们的现役部队编制约占人口比例的4%——占第二次世界大战规模的1/25。此外，在我们共享的美国11万亿美元的经济中，总的军事预算不到国民生产总值的4%。在第二次世界大战中，军事预算在国民生产总值中所占比例超过40 %，军方对社会全部资源的需求率是原来的10倍。

现在这种暗示对我来讲似乎变得更清晰： 历史上最致命和最具毁坏力的武器可以被社会放进旷野，而这对社会来讲几乎不费吹灰之力。那样的力量和形势只危及少数无辜的人和那些自愿进入险境的人。我们的社会既不要求也不需要剥夺公民的任何重要的物质，而那些武器也是以公民的名义部署的。

我认为这不是一种合理的形势。除了别的以外，对有些军事冒险主义的人来讲这是一种长期的邀请，开国者真正担心的最大的危险就来源于常备军。这种危险已经在拿破仑·波拿巴时代就显现出来了。托马斯·杰斐逊说：“正是波拿巴将共和国的命运从人民大众手中转交给了军事武器。有些人会以此作为教训来反对共和政府的可行性。我将此作为防备常备军危险性的教训。

我承认你们中的一些，也许很多人，会认为称现代的武装力量为“雇佣兵”是有些冒犯的。我重复一遍，我绝对无意指责这些目前服役人的动机和忠诚。但是他们绝对不能与我们战场上的、两代之前的民兵相比。两代前的民兵来自于社会的各个阶层，不论出身背景，不论特权以及文化水平。陆军发动如此大规模、平民社会深深的和持久的赞同去塑造和使用这种力量是绝对必要的。公平问题放在一边，我第一个不能相信这是健康的民主让这么重要的军事机能——军事力量的应用如此快速地取代公众的参与和责任心。这使得一些极其重要的事情更容易了——就像处理对他人造成的死亡和破坏，然后寻求军事解决方案。假设他们用更快、更低的成本完成比通过更慢更无理取闹的商务外交手段容易得多。强大的民主社会生活应该是，在某种程度上至少是，一种奋发的生活，满足市民需求的生活，尤其是在要求他们去从事生死攸关的问题的时候。

让我讲第二个故事，这使我有一点点自在。这是一个关于两个来自斯坦福大学创办时代的人物。其中一位伟大的人物威廉·詹姆斯，早期供职斯坦福大学教导机构，是著名的哈佛大学心理学家和哲学家，并且是美国历史上最伟大的小说家亨利·詹姆斯的哥哥。离现场不远处，他曾作过演讲“斯坦福大学的理想的命运”。在演讲中，他祈祷未来100年内斯坦福大学的景象——就是现在。他说：“难道我们不能构想一个世纪内的斯坦福大学的景象与所有的荣誉，与其传统结合起来吗？不广阔，但是有深度；致力于真理；扩散影响，制定标准、传播国外学习的成果；调解美洲和亚洲之间的关系。”

这种精神显得如此雄心勃勃，震撼世界，对于它的能力几乎毫不谦虚。这种精神如今也在有力地推动着学校的前进。我确信你已经被这种精神感染；事实上，你已经为这种精神的发展作出了贡献。诸多事情使斯坦福大学伟大而与众不同。这些可能是你来这里的原因。

但是另一种精神同样存在——而它也从大学初期传到我们这一代，我希望我们能继续传递给你们，还有将所有的才能传授给你们，把你们装备起来震撼世界，激烈的竞争正在等着你。

斯坦福大学的第一任校长大卫·斯塔尔·乔丹抵达加利福尼亚时，他为全新的大学四处招收学生。在他短暂而精彩的谈话中，他并没有格外强调斯坦福有多新，或是它的雄心大志，它的精神活力，或者是告诉加利福尼亚青年如何武装自己在西部达尔文主义者的边界中生存。他发出一种完全不同的声音，他歌颂平静和沉思的价值。他对100多年前的学生们强调的不是谋生的必要性，而是生命的重要性。他谈论了人性价值的重要——对于过去所谓的文学艺术教育，他是这样说的：要把一天中琐碎的麻烦变成大事般的见解，就是走过喧闹的街，穿过教堂的门。如果你学会打开这些门，世界上没有任何力量可以阻止你拿到钥匙。你的一生必须在自己的陪伴中度过，只有受过教育的人才是对他最好的陪伴。

我认为，在今天这样一天，很适合我们提醒自己：这些遗产都来自斯坦福大学的创立。一个又一个的人补充着这个地方的精华，大家一起制作了这份礼物，我们希望你们带着这份礼物从这里离开。

我的第三个故事很简洁，它是一条建议。19世纪晚期，在斯坦福大学早期的日子里，在西部，尤其在那些没有通铁路的地方，人们乘坐马车出门很普遍。在这样的日子里，大多数的公共马车路线提供三个等级的车票：第一等，第二等和第三等。第一等车票保证乘客不论在途中发生什么情况，都会安全抵达目的地。二等票保证到达，但万一在途中遇到困境——如泥石流可能封路或马车车轴坏了——允许乘客离开马车一段时间并等待直到问题解决。三等票的规定是万一持票人遇到有希望解决的困境时，拿起镐子和铲子去行动，把车轮抬在肩上并使之重新上路。

斯坦福大学是一流的教育机构，你们明天拿到的毕业证书是你生命中的一等车票。我的建议是不要拿它。我的意思不是不拿毕业证书——当然这是你应得的。你得到了证书，如果不拿的话你的父母会吓坏的。但是，不要终身走一流的或者二流的路，而要走三流的。不要觉得不舒服，不要觉得自己是个旁观者，走出去并使之成为可能；不要被看扁，你的肩膀上扛起车轮，世界就会转动；不要错误地认为服兵役这件事是可以安心交给别人去做的事情。

最后，给人以希望的译文。我要给你们翻译格温多林·布鲁克斯写的两行诗，她说：

耗尽最后一刻，就会死亡。

不论是伤口还是黄金，不会再次出现相同的伪装。

我要给你们的翻译语是：抓住今天。

祝你好运，一路走好!

Speech 5 Making a Difference 做到与众不同

演讲人简介：

约翰·亨尼斯(John Hennessy)

斯坦福大学第10任校长

曾担任斯坦福大学电气工程系助理教授、教授、计算机科学系主任、工程学院院长、斯坦福大学教务长

近年主要研究高性能计算机系统结构

曾获美国艺术与科学研究院创始人奖等多个奖项，是美国国家工程研究院、国家科学院、美国艺术与科学研究院等多个学术组织的会员

Graduates of Stanford University, on behalf of all members of the Stanford family, I congratulate and commend you. You have made many contributions to our community of scholars during your time on the Farm, and you have our deep thanks.

A few minutes ago, as each group of graduates was presented to me for the conferral of degrees, I admitted you to the“rights, responsibilities and privileges”associated with a degree granted by Stanford University.Today, I would like to reflect on that phrase,“rights, responsibilities and privileges”—why it is part of our Commencement and what are the responsibilities of a Stanford graduate.

At Stanford, we believe that the rights and privileges of educatio n bring a responsibility to make good use of your knowledge, to change the world for the better and to help ensure that succeeding generations have the same opportunities you have had here at Stanford. Education is a gift th at one generation gives to the next. Indeed, this university owes its existence to Leland and Jane Stanford’s generosity and commitment to help future generations.

Today you join a long line of ditsinguished alumni who have made their contributions to a better world. One of thoes distinguished alumni was Amy Biehl. Some of you may know Amy’s story. A member of the Class of1989, Amy was a student in international relations. Just as many oyfo u have made statements with your attire today, 14 years ago Amy’s graduation cap proclaimed“Free Mandela!”

Four years later, not much older than many of you, she traveled to South Africa on a Fulbright Scholarship to help develop voter education programs.Amy was 26, and she had already visited five different African countries.Nelson Mandela had been released a few years earlier, the country’s first multiracial elections were about to be held, and Amy was there to study women’s roles in the creation of the new contsitution. After completing her work in South Africa, she planned to return to the United States to pursue　a doctorate in African affairs.

But on August 25, 1993, after driving friends home outside of Cap e Town, she was attacked in her car and killed by four young men. It was a tragic loss—for her family and friends, for the Stanford community and for South Africa. But as tragic as her death was, that is only a small part of Amy’s story.Today I want to talk about why, 10 years later, we still remember Amy Biehl.

By all accounts, Amy was not someone you could easily forget. She had an insatiable appetite for experiences and ideas. She once described herself as“hell on wheels,”in constant motion, always challenging the status quo.Once she set her mind on a goal, she would not be deterred.

Stanford was one of her goals. Amy declared her love for our university at a remarkably young age. The Biehl family had moved to Palo Alto. Amy,not yet 10, announced to her parents that Stanford was where she wanted to go to college when she grew up. I am sure the Biehls smiled and never gave it another thought—at least not then. The family moved to Santa Fe, where Amy graduated from high school and was offered admission to a number of prestigious universities. Although several of those institutions offered Amy a scholarship, Stanford did not. It made no difference to Amy. She chose Stanford.

After her arrival at Stanford, Amy decided she wanted to be a member of the swimming and diving team. She had been diving for only a few years, and she would be competing with young women ona　nationally ranked team. But Amy had set her mind to the task, and she worked hard. Her efrftos paid off:She made the team; her performance improved; her team voted her co captain in her senior year; and that year, they won the NCAA championship.

While she was at Stanford, Amy also discovered a love for the music and dance of Africa and, consequently, a love for its people. For her honors thesis on the negotiations for Namibian independence, she interviewed Chester Crocker, who was then the U.S. assistant secretary of state for Afriacn affairs,and former Secretary of State George Schultz, among others.

In her thesis acknowledgements, she noted“the unusual set of circumstances under which it was completed”and thanked her family,“who taught me the value of persistence.”She later wrote in her Fulbright application:

“As I neared the completion of my thesis in March 1989, an electraicl fire destroyed our off-campus house, leaving me with nothing but a charred box of note cards to show for months of research. Determined to finish my paper, I headed back to the library and completed my thesis in May.”

After graduating from Stanford and completing her research in Namibia,

Amy worked for the National Democratic Institute for International Affairs(NDI) in Washington, D.C. While she was at NDI, she becamei nterested in women’s rights. With the support of a Fulbright Fellowship, she headed for South Africa. She did not underestimate the risks of going to South Africa at a troubled time, but she believed that she could make a difference.

Former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright worked with Amy aNt DI,and four years after her death, in a service at a church in Cape Town, Secretary Albright said:

In truth, the way that Amy lived her life just as much as the way that she lost her life gave that life special meaning. She believed that all peop le have value; that the disadvantaged have special claim on the lives of the more fortunate; and that racial justice and racial harmony were ideals worth fighting for and living for and, if need be, dying for.

Ten years have passed since Amy’s death, but her legacy continues.In 1994, the Amy Biehl Foundation was established in the United States,and its sister organization, the Amy Biehl Foundation Trust, followed three years later in South Africa. Through these institutions, numerous programs—including schools, after school recreation centers, environmental projects,health and safety programs, and employment opportunities—have bee n initiated to help communities throughout South Africa develop their potential.In 1998, two Fulbright scholarships were named in her honor: one for a South African graduate student to pursue study in the United States, the other for an American to study in South Africa.

Amy’s parents, Linda and Peter Biehl, carried her legacy forward.

When Archbishop Desmond Tutu launched the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, the Biehls supported the 1998 decision to grant amnesty to the four young men who had been convicted of their daughter’s murder. They believe that this is what Amy would have wanted. Two of the young men are employed by the Amy Biehl Foundation Trust and working to make a difference in their community.

Amy Biehl’s life exemplifies the Stanford spirit. She was willing to take risks and to challenge the status quo. She demonstrated great personal vision, extraordinary perseverance and remarkable bravery. She took her responsibilities as an educated citizen very seriously. She dedicated her life to making a real difference in the world.

Today, I hope that you leave thi scampus with a strong reservoir of the Stanford spirit, a reservoir that will grow over the year.s I hope this spirit inspires you as you make your contributions to the world, and I hope that it brings you back often to this special place where the Stanford spirit was born in you.

Thank you and congratulations!

汉语回放(杨帆 译)

斯坦福大学的毕业生们，我代表斯坦福大家族的所有成员祝贺你们。在学校期间，你们对我们的学者社团有很多帮助，我们对此表示深深的感谢。

几分钟前，当每组学生来到我面前接受学位授予时，我同时授予

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