Keep Your Head Out of the Elephant's Ass
Address To The Senior Class
Michael Casey
Thank you
for inviting me to speak. I regard
myself as an odd choice for a speaker on this occasion of your recognition for
years of hard work and significant accomplishment. It would seem that this event calls for a
speaker adept at praise and inspiration, who can evoke the bright day dawning
and the shining future that beckons you onward. My contribution to your well being has been
of a different sort. I am notoriously
stingy with praise; to my knowledge I have never inspired anyone to do
anything; and all I know about the future is that it contains as much toil and
trouble as it does joy and delight. So
you see my dilemma. The things I know in
the marrow of my bones are made of caution and warning, not warmth and
encouragement. I have always endeavored
to prepare you for the bad stuff and the mean people--even meaner than me--that
will cross your path in the years after high school. So I'll go with what I know. I do have "life-advice" for your
future. But my focus is not so much how
to thrive but how to survive, so that you'll have a shot at thriving despite
the odds.
Recently,
I was in conversation with a young teacher--not a teacher here--who was
speaking about her first year teaching in a new school with a new
principal. She was puzzled and a little
upset that the principal had said to her, "you know, you did a really good
job this year, but sometimes you're a pain-in-the-ass." I congratulated the teacher on receiving that
performance review. There is great value and leverage in being a
pain-in-the-ass. Establish yourself
as such and you will survive and thrive.
A person who is a pain-in-the-ass does not adopt a purist approach to
this mode of presentation of self. The
best results are achieved when one is a pain-in-the-ass-with-a-purpose.
What is meant
when a person is so described? First of
all, such folk are hard to ignore. They
are presences because they pester, persist and persevere. They send the memo, the follow-up memo, and
the third communiqué. In between they
make the phone calls, knock on doors, and enlist compatriots in causes they
care about. Be they students,
scientists, parents, entrepreneurs, teachers, CEOs, artists, or administrators,
a pain-in-the-ass has an indefatigable resolve and is extremely hard to
discourage. If you yourself are not
one, you want one working for you or with you.
Another strategy
for surviving and thriving--especially in the groves of academe--is to learn
the intellectual and strategic value of the sham of feigned attention. Henry James, a genius of modern fiction,
said: "Strive to be a person upon whom nothing is lost." Act like you are such a person. Some of my own students here have developed
this trait admirably. It consists of pretending
to be interested in what the teacher (or your future professor) is
explaining or describing. The slightly
bugged eyes, the cocked head, the beaming visage, distinct but not overly eager
nodding in agreement and assent, all these can do wonders in making a positive
impression on the person in charge. But
be forewarned. There's a danger
here. Investing energy in this posture
can result in your actually becoming interested in something you thought you
were bored with, and then you have real work to do.
Thirdly,
whatever you do with your future life, develop an appreciation and appetite
for money. Remember Iago in
Shakespeare's Othello. "Put
money in thy purse." Iago of
course was evil incarnate. But that does
not mean he was wrong in what he urged Roderigo to do. Money may be the root of some evil. But the lack of money is the guarantor of
much pain and misery. If you are
employed by another, learn how to negotiate and squeeze all the dollars you can
out of the employer to whom you sell your services. Money matters because with it you can build
the resources to advance social justice causes that activate your passion and
values. Or, if fortune truly smiles and
you are the next YouTube mogul, money matters even more because then you can
realize your ethical obligations, and bequeath generous donations to nursing
homes for retired teachers.
These are three
tested and true modes of operation. But
all of them take a back seat to a more fundamental principle upon which all
other means of surviving and thriving depend.
This is so important, so profound, that I want to show it to you
visually before examining it verbally.
Turn your attention if you would to the screen.
The baseline
lesson is unmistakable. Keep your
head out of the elephant's ass. The
literal danger is clear. It's not a
place you want to be. But the meaning of
this dictum is not simply literal, it is a matter of major metaphor. And all metaphor requires attention and
investigation.
What is
represented by the elephant's ass, and what is represented by the head
inadvertently placed therein?
The elephant's
ass is a modern form of Conrad's "heart of darkness." We can call it the abyss of asininity, the
thoughtless or witless response to danger or complexity. The abyss of asininity is a force that will shallow
you up if you do not look up to see where you are and whither you are going. The abyss of asininity is a force that can
take the form of pied pipers, fads, half-baked notions, paradigms, canards,
shibboleths, bigotries, popular misconceptions, fatuous institutional goals,
inane corporate values, and almost anything that is put forward as new,
improved, cutting edge, transformative, globally true, or life-changing. All of
these chimeras, all of these come-hither siren songs, are in the elephant's
ass.
Your head is not
simply the cranial casing for your cerebral cortex, it is the locus in quo,
the place in which the center of your self-ness resides. You are your brain, your heart, your will,
your soul. To survive and thrive, Keep your head out of the elephant's ass. Keep yourself to yourself. You do not belong to your parents. You do not belong to your siblings. You do
not belong to this school, you belong to yourself. You own yourself. Take care of what you own.
Lay claim to
your self-ness and decide on who you will become. That decision is a journey
but it need not be a lonely road. It is
true, as I have reminded my senior students, that 24 months from your
graduation, if you return here, no young person in the building will know who
you are. But you will always recognize
each other, the members of the graduating class. Look to your right, look to your left. You are a part of each other. You do not belong to us, we do not own
you. But we are a part of you. You take us with you as you go.
So here's a benediction for your parting, the old,
familiar Irish Blessing, . . . old, familiar, and true.
May the road rise to meet you
May the wind be
always at
your back
May the sun shine warm upon
your face
And the rain
fall soft upon
your fields
And until we
meet again,
May God hold you
in the
Palm of his
hand
Thank You
Labels: teaching
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