Baccalaureate 2018 Remarks (May 25, 2018)

Welcome to the 2018 Baccalaureate ceremony.

Welcome to parents, family, friends, faculty, staff, alumni and trustees.

And welcome Class of 2018.

Baccalaureate and Commencement tomorrow mark the end of your formal education at Bowdoin. They are a time to reflect on your four years here, and you should be very, very proud of what you have accomplished. We certainly are.

We have three wonderful speakers this afternoon. Dean Tim Foster with “Readings from Bowdoin’s Past.”

Our student speaker is Diana Furukawa, the winner of the DeAlva Stanwood Alexander First Prize.

And, we have the great good fortunate to be joined today by Professor Thomas Cech. Tom is a Noble Prize laureate in chemistry, and one of the leading scientists of our time.  Tom is also the product a great liberal arts education at Grinnell College.

I’d like to share with you some thoughts on one of our wonderful alumni.

I was lucky to have known Ed Lee. Not well, but enough. He touched a chord deep in anyone who came into his orbit.

Ed died last December, having served for seven years as the mayor of San Francisco. He lived a remarkable life.

He was born in Seattle, the child of immigrants from China. His father worked in a restaurant and died when Ed was fifteen. His mother worked as a seamstress. As Ed told me it was because of a high school guidance counselor who knew about the financial aid program here that he learned of Bowdoin, and it was because of that aid—a full package—that he came here in the fall of 1970. He graduated in 1974 summa cum laude and with a Watson Fellowship. This is what the future mayor of San Francisco looked like in the groovy days of the early 1970s.

He loved Bowdoin. Early in my tenure as president he hosted an event at city hall for Bay Area alumni, parents and friends where Reed Hastings—another Bowdoin grad and the CEO of Netflix—and I did a kind of fireside chat. He got up to welcome the group of maybe three hundred and started by shouting, with a big smile and arms out, “Hello Polar Bears!”

He went on to law school, and then spent many years advocating for immigrant communities and fair housing in the Bay Area. Later, he was asked to join the administration in San Francisco, and ultimately became the city’s administrator—the chief bureaucrat who ran the place day to day.

Then in 2011, the mayor at the time was elected lieutenant governor of the state. Longer story short, Ed was appointed mayor to finish out his term—one year left to go. In 2012, he ran and was elected in his own right. He did it again in 2015.

Last December he died of a heart attack shopping at the grocery store after work. Sixty-three years old and way too much life left. He left behind his wife, Anita, and two daughters, Tania and Brianna.

There are a lot to of ways to think about Ed’s legacy—devoted spouse and parent, first generation American, first mayor of San Francisco of Asian descent, fierce advocate, leader of the city at the epicenter of the technology revolution, balancing the intense change, excitement, dislocation and human issues that it created. And he was a Polar Bear. All are true. But there was something deeper to Ed.

He possessed great humanity and was dedicated to serving the common good. He also knew that this quality and the desire to serve the common good was not something found only in government or non-profit work. He partnered with folks from all walks of life, including successful business leaders from technology. He saw and drew out the humanity in others.

He was driven. His path was not neatly planned out—he was to be sure an “accidental mayor”—but no matter the uncertainty, he grasped every opportunity and made something happen. Think of his journey to Bowdoin from Seattle in the late summer of 1970 and what he did during his four years here. Given the story about his high school counselor, he was probably an “accidental Bowdoin student” as well—some of you sitting here today are shaking your heads, saying, “yep, me too.”

He was deeply ambitious, but with great humility. His ambition was not for himself. His ambition was for the work he did and the change he made. It was never about him.

Humanity and a deep commitment to the common good. Drive and humility. It would be hard not to be inspired and energized by someone with these qualities, and someone who so genuinely lived them.

But here’s the thing about Ed that made him so special—he lived his life with joy. He loved his family, the people he worked with, his work, and the opportunities he was given. On the occasions where I did spend time with him it was simply impossible not to be drawn in by the gravitational pull of his joy.

There are many lessons to take from Ed’s life. The idea that you will face different twists and turns you cannot foresee and that you need to embrace them and the uncertainty that comes with change. That making a difference and serving the common good can come from anywhere and from anyone in any walk of life. And, that the power to make change comes from the qualities of humanity, drive, and humility.

But, I really wanted to talk to you about Ed as a way to urge you to live your life and do your work in ways that bring you joy. This is how you know you are being true to yourself, and it is how you inspire and move those around you to help you do what’s hard and important.

I also thought you should know Ed a bit.  Another special member of the Bowdoin community.

Let me end by sharing my favorite moment with Ed. On my last visit to his office he got to talking about the Golden State Warrior’s last championship. He jumped up from behind his desk and pulled from it a beautiful wood box. He said to me, “you’ve got to try this on.” It was the championship ring that the team had given to the mayor. He was laughing and there was no way he was taking no for an answer (not that I was going to say no), then he made me take a picture.

You can see his joy.

I hope you find your joy.

Thank you.