The Final Rose:

   Henry Miller, an American novelist and playwright, once said, "One's destination is never a place, but rather a new way of seeing things." Being only one short week away from reaching a destination of my own – that is, graduation – I can easily recognize that my way of seeing things has most assuredly been altered in the past four years I have spent at Holy Cross.

   Indeed, my perspective has broadened, my beliefs have strengthened, my ideas have matured, and my skills have sharpened. This personal and intellectual development is, without a doubt, attributable to Holy Cross and the rigorous academic mission it espouses. In fact, for all the Friday nights I spent in the library, for the number of papers I wrote, and for the thousands of pages I read and took notes on, I can walk away assured and confident that I have truly received a substantial education – one which holds a great amount of meaning and value and one in which I am, and will continue to be, forever grateful for.

   Although Holy Cross has successfully mastered – if not, surpassed – its academic mission, I have come to believe that there exists a greater need to more fully and effectively develop Holy Cross' community. To attend a school that cultivates the notion of being "men and women for others" is greatly inspiring and encouraging – and is something I have taken great pride in ever since freshman year. But, if I had to pick one thing that has fundamentally altered the way I see things, it is the way I now understand what being men and women for others truly means.  

   There seems to exist a notion that being men and women for others starts by going out into a community unlike our own, whether through volunteering, participating in SPUD, or traveling to different regions and countries on the various immersion trips Holy Cross offers. Although engaging in such work is noble, worthy of respect, and certainly enables us to be the "men and women for others" we take pride in being, I don't think this should be the starting point. Rather, I believe that being men and women for others must first start right here, at Holy Cross, on this campus. In other words, I don't think it is truly possible to be men and women for others without first being able to be men and women for those around us – for those we interact with on a daily basis, for those we call our friends, and for those who make up the immediate Holy Cross community.

   It is easy to call ourselves "men and women for others" when we work for a particular cause, volunteer at a homeless shelter, or work in a community riddled with poverty, but does that truly make us the men and women for others we claim to be? What about being "men and women" for your neighbors, your friends, your classmates, your roommates, your professors, etc.? Shouldn't we start with the people right around us? Shouldn't the same compassion, sympathy, empathy, and gentle spirit we show to those strangers who are less fortunate than us start with those who are most present in our lives? For, how can we truly call ourselves "men and women for others" if we limit being so to our "volunteer lives" rather than integrating the same principle into our "personal lives?"

   I do not mean, nor want, to take away from the work that many students take part in and work hard in doing. Rather, I seek only to illuminate a sort of double standard we are creating when we draw a distinction between our volunteer and personal activity. For, by holding ourselves to different standards in our personal, everyday lives, I think we are losing sight of what being men and women for others really means.

   Let this be my encouragement to you, then, wherever you are in your journey at Holy Cross, to remember to be men and women for others – others that you may never have considered being "men and women" for – your classmates, friends, professors, mentors, and even strangers. Because, I believe, to be men and women for others is to see no boundaries, limitations, or exceptions, but is instead to see and act on all opportunities to express kindness and compassion.

   After all, as Kahlil Gibran, the Lebanese American writer, once said, "Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness, but manifestations of strength and resolution."

   And so, my fellow peers, although my journey has just about come to an end, I pass along to you not only the knowledge and broadened perspective I have gained, but the hope that you will continue your time here being the men and women for others we are meant to be – to everyone and anyone, both among and beyond the hill of Mount St. James, each and every day.

   As Henry Burton once said, "Have you had a kindness shown? Pass it on; ‘Twas not given for thee alone, Pass it on; Let it travel down the years, let it wipe another's tears, ‘til in Heaven the deed appears; Pass it on." Pass it on, Holy Cross, pass it on.