Robert Rabbin: 'I try to practice these six principles every day', Marin School - 1998

1998,. Mill Valley, California, USA

Mahatma Gandhi was approached one day by a woman and her young son. She asked, “Mahatma, can you please tell my son to stop eating sugar. It’s not good for him, and he won’t listen to me. He respects you, and I know he will listen to you.” The Mahatma said, “Fine. Come back in a week.” A week later, the woman and her son came back. The Mahatma said, “I’m not quite ready. Please come back in another week.” Another week went by, and the woman came back with her son. The Mahatma was ready, and he said, “Son, you should stop eating sugar. It is not good for you.” The woman was pleased, but also a bit confused. She said, “Why did it take you so long to say such a simple thing.” The Mahatma replied, “When you first came to me, I had not stopped eating sugar myself.”

The moral of the story is clear: Don’t tell people to do things you haven’t done yourself. So, I don’t want to speak about things I haven’t tried and tested myself, and I don’t want to tell you a bunch of nonsense I don’t believe in. I don’t want to tell you all kinds of fancy stuff about the future and your place in it, because I’m not psychic. The fact is, I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, and I don’t know what’s going to happen to you. For all I know, Sarah could become the next Emily Dickinson, and Claudio could become the next Pablo Picasso. Or not. Who knows?

What I can do, though, is to share what I’ve learned about life, in the hope I will say something that will be useful to you. I’m going to talk briefly about six principles that represent what I’ve learned over the past thirty years since I graduated high school, based purely on my own experiments in living. I try to practice these six principles every day, and I like to think these principles are a tree whose fruits are an honorable life, which is what I wish for you.

The first principle is: Live your own life. It would be a shame to get to the end of your life—and who knows when that time will come—only to discover in the last moment that you did not live your life, but the life that someone else wanted you to live. It takes a lot of strength and courage to live your own life, because so many people want you to live their idea of what your life should be. But they are not you, and their values and goals and dreams are theirs, not yours. Only you are you, so find out who you are and how you want to live and what you want to do. Take as much time as you need to do this. Don’t be afraid of changing your mind or of making mistakes, because these are part of the journey of living your own life. Explore different paths, keep learning and growing, and don’t be afraid of wandering off into the unknown, because that wilderness is where great people are born. My older brother and I took different paths after high school. He went to college, got married, had two kids, went to law school and became a lawyer. Following my heart, I traveled around the world and lived in Europe, the Middle East and India. I had a lot of adventures, most of which were X-rated, while he had a lot of adventures that were more PG-rated. To this day, I am not a lawyer and I am not married and I don’t have two kids. I don’t even have a dog. Come to think of it, I don’t even have a house plant. Never mind: different strokes for different folks. However, my brother and I are friends, and we share what we have each learned and thus we enrich each other’s lives. My brother was not wrong, and neither was I. We each followed the true path of our own life. Though our paths and lives are different, we enjoy and share the same passion for authentic living. In a word, we are each happy, which is what I hope you will be. And remember: houses, cars, boats, and big bank accounts are not who you are, they are just things you own. Who you are has more to do with character and integrity, and how you treat people, and whether or not you love what you do.

The second principle is: Be persistent. Keep building your dream, whatever it is. Imagine how many difficulties Noah must have had when he started to build his ark. I’m sure he maxed out his credit cards and borrowed even more money from anyone who would lend him some. He had to work weekends, and vacations were definitely out. People laughed and thought he was crazy. Still, he stuck with it, and history tells us that Noah had the last laugh. You might have heard of Rumi, as Sufi poet who lived in the 13th century. He said, "Start a huge, foolish project, like Noah. It makes absolutely no difference what people think of you." Thomas Edison racked up over 10,000 failed experiments before he invented the light bulb. Be persistent, but also be flexible. Flexibility allows us to learn from our mistakes, and to learn from others. Persistence means to just keep at it, and flexibility means to embrace change when necessary.

The third principle is: Respect other people, especially those people you don’t like or who are so different from you that you are sure they come from another galaxy. A Buddhist version of this principle might be: do no harm. The Buddha used to say this all the time: do no harm. Instead of saying “Hi” or “How are you?” he would say “Do no harm.” You might wonder how I know this. Trust me. Just this once. I know it. Respecting other people invites them to respect you. If you do no harm to others, and others do no harm to you, can you imagine what a lovely planet this would be?

The fourth principle is: Express gratitude and appreciation to everyone every day. This is a hard one for me, because I tend to be self-absorbed, and I forget to acknowledge other people. But for anyone here who has experienced the sudden loss of a loved one, you know what I mean. The first thing that comes to our mind is: “I never said ‘I love you.’” Expressing gratitude and appreciation is a form of saying “I love you,” which is a form of respect. It only takes a moment, but it makes all the difference in the world. This is how we create heaven on earth. For example, around you are the teachers who have given their very best effort, day after day, year after year, to help you, to teach you, to care for you. You may never see them again. Wouldn’t it be fun to go to each one and say, “Thank you for all you have done and tried to do to make me a better person. I love you.” I know you would have friends for life, and you would feel great. You could also say this to your parents as you leave home for college, or wherever else you may be heading. I know they would be deeply appreciative.

The fifth principle is: Now is the only time there is. Make now count. It’s fine to plan ahead, to set goals, and to wonder about where you want to be in five or ten years. But life is unpredictable, and in five years you might be worm food. I hope not, but you never know. Even as you look ahead and plan ahead, make sure your feet, head, and heart are planted firmly in now, this minute, because that is all we have. There are no guarantees about tomorrow. This moment is where we live our unique life, where we demonstrate who we are. Be your very best in this moment. Face your fears in this moment. Speak the truth of your heart in this moment. Live from the depths of your soul in this moment. If you do, tomorrow and the day after will exceed your wildest dreams.

The sixth, and final, principle is: Don’t become cynical and selfish. I know there are a lot of things wrong in our world, and that we all face an uncertain future. It may seem that we can’t change things, or that the world is not our business. But the world is our business, and we can change things. Don’t cop out, stay involved, be heard. Stand up for righteousness and justice for all. Take care of yourself and your families, but also make a contribution to others. Find a way to be of service to your community, and to the world in which we live. We should all pitch in and make this Earth a better place for our children, and for their children, and for theirs. Keep a positive outlook, be optimistic, and help those less fortunate than you. And, of course, always, always be kind to children.

So, that’s it. I’ve just given you my best pitch. I know you will develop your own principles of living as the years roll by, but maybe something I’ve said will help you along your way. You should be very proud of yourselves. You have worked hard and you have achieved much. I sincerely applaud each and every one of you, and I wish that you all have magnificent and honorable lives. Thank you, and good luck.

Amy Poehler: 'I don't have many answers, just questions. Specifically, when I use Facetime ...' Harvard, 2011

25 May, 2011, Harvard, Massachusetts, USA

Friends, Romans, countrymen: lend me your beers.

I am honored that you chose me to help you celebrate your graduation today. I can only assume I am here today because of my subtle and layered work in a timeless classic entitled "Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo". And for that I say, you're welcome.

I'm truly, truly delighted to be her at Harvard . I graduated from Boston College. Which some call the Harvard of Boston. But we all know that Harvard is the Harvard of Harvard. And you can quote me on that.

I have to admit I am very surprised to be here because like so many of you, I was pretty convinced the Rapture was going to happen. Show of hands, how many of you woke up on Sunday and thought, "You're kidding me! I sold all of my belongings, I told my boss to shove it and we are still here?" I understand how you feel. I am so mad at Heaven right now.

So I tried to write today's speech the way I wrote everything in College. Stayed up all night, typing on a Canon word processor while listening to Sir Mix-a-lot. To be fair, first I took a nap, I ate a large pretzel, I cried a little bit and then I went to see that movie, Fast Five.

And I am here to tell you, life is like a heist that requires good drivers, an explosives expert, a hot girl who doubles as a master of disguise and this is a hard and fast rule. If the Rock shows up, they're on to you.

But the class of 2011 did not invite me here to tell jokes. They invited me here to talk about the recent tensions between oil traders regulators of the commodities futures trading commission. I'm sure we all read the New York Times this morning which posited that there may be a complex scheme that relied on the close relationships between physical oil prices and the prices of financial futures, which of course, as we all know, moves in parallel. Hilarious.

What do I know about Harvard? I know it is the oldest American university. I know it provides the ultimate experience in higher learning and according to the movies, I know it is filled with people who get rich either by inventing things or suing the people who they claim stole their invention. Let me be clear. I believe everything I see in movies. And if you remember anything I say today, remember this. Every single thing you see in movies is real.

So, what do the fine students of 2011 need to hear from me? If I wanted to give you advice as a Bostonian, I would remind you that: "Just because you're wicked smart it doesn't mean you are better than me."

And I would also want to say: "Good for you for working so hard. You graduated from 'Hahvahd' -- it must be nice."

If I wanted to give you advice as a New Yorker, I'd tell you, "Excuse me, ma'am, could you move please? Don't walk in the bike lane -- get off the bike lane please." And I would also like to take a moment to inform you as a New Yorker and as my cab driver did recently that Bloomberg pretends to take the subway, but we all know that's a bunch of baloney.

And if I wanted to give you advice as an actor, I would tell you this: Don't do it. Don't be one. There are too many. I have a lot of talented friends who aren't working. Sorry, no more room at the inn. I bet you are great, but just work with the human genome instead.

You're all smart and sophisticated people. You know the world in a way that my generation never did. Because of that, I realize I don't have much advice to give to you. In many ways, I learned from you. I don't have many answers, just questions. Specifically, when I use Facetime on my iPad and I'm talking to someone and I take a picture, sometimes the screen freezes. How do I fix that?

All I can tell you today is what I have learned. What I have discovered as a person in this world. And that is this: you can't do it alone. As you navigate through the rest of your life, be open to collaboration. Other people and other people's ideas are often better than your own.

Find a group of people who challenge and inspire you, spend a lot of time with them, and it will change your life. No one is here today because they did it on their own. Okay, maybe Josh, but he's just a straight up weirdo. You're all here today because someone gave you strength. Helped you. Held you in the palm of their hand. God, Allah, Buddha, Gaga -- whomever you pray to.

They have helped you get here, and that should make you feel less alone. And less scared. Because it has been a scary ten years. You were young children when you watched planes hit the World Trade Center. You quickly understood what it was like to feel out of control. Your formative teenage years were filled with orange alerts and rogue waves and unaccomplished missions.

For my generation, it was AIDS. We all grow up afraid of something. Your generation had to get used to taking off your shoes at the airprot. My generation had to get used to awkward PSAs from Boyz2men telling us to use protection. But during those tough times, we realized how wonderful it felt to be part of a group.

But more about me.

I moved to Chicago in the early 1990s and I studied improvisation there. I learned some rules that I try to apply still today: Listen. Say "yes." Live in the moment. Make sure you play with people who have your back. Make big choices early and often. Don't start a scene where two people are talking about jumping out of a plane. Start the scene having already jumped. If you are scared, look into your partner's eyes. You will feel better.

This advice has come in handy and it would often be something I would think about when I would perform on Saturday Night Live. Live television can be very nerve-wracking and I remember one time being nervous, looking into the eyes of the host and feeling better. I should point out I was wearing a chicken suit at the time. The host was Donald Trump. He was wearing a bigger, more elaborate chicken suit. I looked into his eyes, I saw that he looked really stupid, and I instantly felt better.

See how that works? I should point out that that sketch was written by a Harvard graduate and also a graduate from Northwestern -- but who cares about that. Am I right?

I cannot stress enough that the answer to a lot of your life's questions is often in someone else's face. Try putting your iPhones down every once in a while and look at people's faces. People's faces will tell you amazing things. Like if they are angry or nauseous, or asleep.

I have been lucky to be a part of great ensembles. My work with the upright citizens brigade led me to my work on Saturday Night Live, and when I graduated from that comedy college, I was worried about what came next. Then Parks and Recreation came along, a show I am proud of where I get to work with people I love. You never know what is around the corner unless you peek. Hold someone's hand while you do it. You will feel less scared. You can't do this alone. Besides it is much more fun to succeed and fail with other people. You can blame them when things go wrong. Take your risks now. As you grow older, you become more fearful and less flexible. And I mean that literally. I hurt my knee on the treadmill this week and it wasn't even on. Try to keep your mind open to possibilities and your mouth closed on matters that you don't know about. Limit your "always" and your "nevers." Continue to share your heart with people even if its been broken. Don't treat your heart like an action figure wrapped in plastic and never used. And don't try to give me that nerd argument that your heart is a batman with a limited edition silver battering and therefore if it stays in its original package it increases in value. Watch it Harvard, you're not better than me.

Even though, as a class, you are smart, you are still allowed to say, "I don't know." Just because you are in high demand, you are still allowed to say, "Let me get back to you." This will come in handy when your parents ask when you plan to move out of their basement and you answer, "I don't know. Let me get back to you." Which leads me to my final thought: would it kill you to be nicer to your parents? They have sacrificed so much for you, and all they want you to do is smile and take a picture with your weird cousins. Do that for them. And with less eye-rolling, please. And so, class of 2011, it is time to leave. Oprah has spoken.

So I will end with this quote: Heyah, Heyah, Heyah, Heyah, Heyah, heyah, heyah, heyah, alright alright alright, alright, alright. The group: Outcast; the song: Heyah. The lyrics: nonsense. I'm sorry it was really late when I wrote this.

This is what I want to say: When you feel scared, hold someone's hand and look into their eyes. And when you feel brave, do the same thing. You are all here because you are smart. And you are brave. And if you add kindness and the ability to change a tire, you almost make up the perfect person. I thank you for asking me to speak to you today. As you head out into the world I wish you love and light, joy, and much laughter. And as always, please don't forget to tip your waitresses.

Thank you very much.

Aaron Sorkin: 'Welcome to the NFL', Syracuse - 2012

13 May, 2012, Syracuse University, USA

Thank you very much.  Madam Chancellor, members of the Board of Trustees, members of the faculty and administration, parents and friends, honored guests and graduates, thank you for inviting me to speak today at this magnificent Commencement ceremony.

There's a story about a man and a woman who have been married for 40 years.  One evening at dinner the woman turns to her husband and says, "You know, 40 years ago on our wedding day you told me that you loved me and you haven't said those words since." They sit in silence for a long moment before the husband says "If I change my mind, I'll let you know."

Well, it's been a long time since I sat where you sit, and I can remember looking up at my teachers with great admiration, with fondness, with gratitude and with love. Some of the teachers who were there that day are here this day and I wanted to let them know that I haven't changed my mind.

There's another story. Two newborn babies are lying side by side in the hospital and they glance at each other.  Ninety years later, through a remarkable coincidence, the two are back in the same hospital lying side by side in the same hospital room.  They look at each other and one of them says, "So what'd you think?" 

It's going to be a very long time before you have to answer that question, but time shifts gears right now and starts to gain speed.  Just ask your parents whose heads, I promise you, are exploding right now.  They think they took you home from the maternity ward last month.  They think you learned how to walk last week.  They don't understand how you could possibly be getting a degree in something today.   They listened to "Cats in the Cradle" the whole car ride here.

I'd like to say to the parents that I realized something while I was writing this speech: the last teacher your kids will have in college will be me.  And that thought scared the hell out of me. Frankly, you should feel exactly the same way.  But I am the father of an 11-year-old daughter, so I do know how proud you are today, how proud your daughters and your sons make you every day, and that they did just learn how to walk last week, that you'll never not be there for them, that you love them more than they'll ever know and that it doesn’t matter how many degrees get put in their hand, they will always be dumber than you are.

And make no mistake about it, you are dumb.  You're a group of incredibly well-educated dumb people.  I was there.  We all were there.  You're barely functional.  There are some screw-ups headed your way.  I wish I could tell you that there was a trick to avoiding the screw-ups, but the screw-ups, they're a-coming for ya.  It's a combination of life being unpredictable, and you being super dumb.

Today is May 13th and today you graduate.  Growing up, I looked at my future as a timeline of graduations in which every few years, I'd be given more freedom and reward as I passed each milestone of childhood.  When I get my driver's license, my life will be like this; when I'm a senior, my life will be like that; when I go off to college, my life will be like this; when I move out of the dorms, my life will be like that; and then finally, graduation.  And on graduation day, I had only one goal left, and that was to be part of professional theater.  We have this in common, you and I—we want to be able to earn a living doing what we love.  Whether you're a writer, mathematician, engineer, architect, butcher, baker or candlestick maker, you want an invitation to the show.

Today is May 13th, and today you graduate, and today you already know what I know: to get where you're going, you have to be good, and to be good where you're going, you have to be damned good.  Every once in a while, you'll succeed.  Most of the time you'll fail, and most of the time the circumstances will be well beyond your control. 

When we were casting my first movie, "A Few Good Men," we saw an actor just 10 months removed from the theater training program at UCLA.  We liked him very much and we cast him in a small, but featured role as an endearingly dimwitted Marine corporal.  The actor had been working as a Domino's Pizza delivery boy for 10 months, so the news that he'd just landed his first professional job and that it was in a new movie that Rob Reiner was directing, starring Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson, was met with happiness. But as is often the case in show business, success begets success before you've even done anything, and a week later the actor's agent called.  The actor had been offered the lead role in a new, as-yet-untitled Milos Forman film.  He was beside himself.  He felt loyalty to the first offer, but Forman after all was offering him the lead.  We said we understood, no problem, good luck, we'll go with our second choice.  Which, we did.  And two weeks later, the Milos Forman film was scrapped.  Our second choice, who was also making his professional debut, was an actor named Noah Wyle.  Noah would go on to become one of the stars of the television series "ER" and hasn't stopped working since.  I don't know what the first actor is doing, and I can't remember his name.  Sometimes, just when you think you have the ball safely in the end zone, you're back to delivering pizzas for Domino's.  Welcome to the NFL.

In the summer of 1983, after I graduated, I moved to New York to begin my life as a struggling writer.  I got a series of survival jobs that included bartending, ticket-taking, telemarketing, limo driving, and dressing up as a moose to pass out leaflets in a mall.  I ran into a woman who'd been a senior here when I was a freshman.  I asked her how it was going and how she felt Syracuse had prepared her for the early stages of her career.  She said, "Well, the thing is, after three years you start to forget everything they taught you in college.  But once you've done that, you'll be fine."  I laughed because I thought it was funny and also because I wanted to ask her out, but I also think she was wrong.

As a freshman drama student—and this story is now becoming famous—I had a play analysis class—it was part of my requirement.  The professor was Gerardine Clark.  (applause) If anybody was wondering, the drama students are sitting over there (applause).  The play analysis class met for 90 minutes twice a week.  We read two plays a week and we took a 20-question true or false quiz at the beginning of the session that tested little more than whether or not we'd read the play.  The problem was that the class was at 8:30 in the morning, it met all the way down on East Genesee, I lived all the way up at Brewster/Boland, and I don't know if you've noticed, but from time to time the city of Syracuse experiences inclement weather.  All this going to class and reading and walking through snow, wind chill that's apparently powered by jet engines, was having a negative effect on my social life in general and my sleeping in particular.  At one point, being quizzed on "Death of a Salesman," a play I had not read, I gave an answer that indicated that I wasn't aware that at the end of the play the salesman dies.  And I failed the class.  I had to repeat it my sophomore year; it was depressing, frustrating and deeply embarrassing.    And it was without a doubt the single most significant event that occurred in my evolution as a writer.  I showed up my sophomore year and I went to class, and I paid attention, and we read plays and I paid attention, and we discussed structure and tempo and intention and obstacle, possible improbabilities, improbable impossibilities, and I paid attention, and by God when I got my grades at the end of the year, I'd turned that F into a D.  I'm joking: it was pass/fail.

But I stood at the back of the Eisenhower Theater at the Kennedy Center in Washington watching a pre-Broadway tryout of my plays, knowing that when the curtain came down, I could go back to my hotel room and fix the problem in the second act with the tools that Gerry Clark gave me.  Eight years ago, I was introduced to Arthur Miller at a Dramatists Guild function and we spent a good part of the evening talking.  A few weeks later when he came down with the flu he called and asked if I could fill in for him as a guest lecturer at NYU.  The subject was "Death of a Salesman."  You made a good decision coming to school here. 

I've made some bad decisions.  I lost a decade of my life to cocaine addiction.  You know how I got addicted to cocaine?  I tried it.  The problem with drugs is that they work, right up until the moment that they decimate your life.  Try cocaine, and you'll become addicted to it.  Become addicted to cocaine, and you will either be dead, or you will wish you were dead, but it will only be one or the other.  My big fear was that I wasn't going to be able to write without it.  There was no way I was going to be able to write without it.  Last year I celebrated my 11-year anniversary of not using coke.  (applause) Thank you.  In that 11 years, I've written three television series, three movies, a Broadway play, won the Academy Award and taught my daughter all the lyrics to "Pirates of Penzance."  I have good friends. 

You'll meet a lot of people who, to put it simply, don't know what they're talking about.  In 1970 a CBS executive famously said that there were four things that we would never, ever see on television: a divorced person, a Jewish person, a person living in New York City and a man with a moustache.  By 1980, every show on television was about a divorced Jew who lives in New York City and goes on a blind date with Tom Selleck.

Develop your own compass, and trust it.  Take risks, dare to fail, remember the first person through the wall always gets hurt.  My junior and senior years at Syracuse, I shared a five-bedroom apartment at the top of East Adams with four roommates, one of whom was a fellow theater major named Chris. Chris was a sweet guy with a sly sense of humor and a sunny stage presence.  He was born out of his time, and would have felt most at home playing Mickey Rooney's sidekick in "Babes on Broadway."  I had subscriptions back then to Time and Newsweek.  Chris used to enjoy making fun of what he felt was an odd interest in world events that had nothing to do with the arts.  I lost touch with Chris after we graduated and so I'm not quite certain when he died. But I remember about a year and a half after the last time I saw him, I read an article in Newsweek about a virus that was burning its way across the country. The Centers for Disease Control was calling it "Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome" or AIDS for short. And they were asking the White House for $35 million for research, care and cure.  The White House felt that $35 million was way too much money to spend on a disease that was only affecting homosexuals, and they passed. Which I'm sure they wouldn't have done if they'd known that $35 million was a steal compared to the $2 billion it would cost only 10 years later.

Am I saying that Chris would be alive today if only he'd read Newsweek? Of course not. But it seems to me that more and more we've come to expect less and less of each other, and that's got to change. Your friends, your family, this school expect more of you than vocational success. 

Today is May 13th and today you graduate and the rules are about to change, and one of them is this: Decisions are made by those who show up. Don't ever forget that you're a citizen of this world.

Don't ever forget that you're a citizen of this world, and there are things you can do to lift the human spirit, things that are easy, things that are free, things that you can do every day. Civility, respect, kindness, character. You're too good for schadenfreude, you're too good for gossip and snark, you're too good for intolerance—and since you're walking into the middle of a presidential election, it's worth mentioning that you're too good to think people who disagree with you are your enemy. Unless they went to Georgetown, in which case, they can go to hell.  (Laughter)

Don't ever forget that a small group of thoughtful people can change the world. It's the only thing that ever has.

Rehearsal's over. You're going out there now, you're going to do this thing. How you live matters. You're going to fall down, but the world doesn't care how many times you fall down, as long as it's one fewer than the number of times you get back up.

For the class of 2012, I wish you joy. I wish you health and happiness and success, I wish you a roof, four walls, a floor and someone in your life that you care about more than you care about yourself. Someone who makes you start saying "we" where before you used to say "I" and "us" where you used to say "me." I wish you the quality of friends I have and the quality of colleagues I work with.  Baseball players say they don't have to look to see if they hit a home run, they can feel it. So I wish for you a moment—a moment soon—when you really put the bat on the ball, when you really get a hold of one and drive it into the upper deck, when you feel it. When you aim high and hit your target, when just for a moment all else disappears, and you soar with wings as eagles. The moment will end as quickly as it came, and so you'll have to have it back, and so you'll get it back no matter what the obstacles.  A lofty prediction, to be sure, but I flat out guarantee it.

Today is May 13th, and today you graduate, and my friends, you ain't seen nothin' yet.  Thank you, and congratulations.