Speech to Gold Creek High Graduation...

It’s always such a shock to see young people I know, have taught or have spoken to in formal dresses and elegant suits.  It reminds me, it proves to me, that you’re no longer kids.

In so many cases for your parents, your teachers, even your friends that can be a difficult truth to face.

How many of you were late this evening because your parents just had to take a couple of extra pictures of you?

So what can I possibly tell you, impart to you, provide guidance on this evening.  This is such a monumentally important night in your high school lives, I’m sure listening to someone else speak is far down on your list of priorities.  Especially someone like me who is having such a hard time reconciling just how much more grown up you all are compared to when I was in your position over a decade ago.

I remember sitting at my table with a girl who I’d only plucked up the courage to ask out 24 hours before, barely listening to the speaker because I was so nervous about the formal, about my date, about my friends, about how the night would pan out.

I should have been more worried about how we’d make our way home at the end of the night, but that’s a story for another night.

So what can I tell you, young ladies and gentlemen, young adults who are heading to College or the workforce or overseas or any number of different paths.  What of my 28 years can I share with you that has any value.

It’s simple, it’s compact, it’s so effective.

Aim for greatness.

So many people get confused by that statement, so before I explain what I mean let me share what I won’t tell you.

I won’t tell you what to do with your life.  While the specifics are always interesting, there is never just one right path or option.

I won’t tell you what your profession should be.  What you choose to do in life is never a matter for anyone else to judge or dictate.

I won’t tell you what your opinions should be.  Where you end up philosophically is a matter for you and no one else. 

I won’t tell you what you should do, what you should think, what you should feel, how you should speak.

I won’t tell you to have the next few years of your life figured out.  I certainly didn’t at your age.

I won’t tell you to go to university or not, to become a doctor or a mechanic, a teacher or a musician.  I won’t tell you to travel the world or never leave this town.

I won’t talk to you about obstacles in life, because you’ve seen nike and adidas ads far more emotionally eloquent than I can be.  I won’t talk to you about dealing with issues such as conflict and drugs and alcohol and depression, since you’re bombarded with images and messages every day, at school, on tv, in magazines, on the internet.

I won’t talk to you about the importance of good grades or making it through university, because the truth is that for so many people, they’re simply not the most important things.

This is the part of the speech where teachers sometimes throw me out… no?  ok great…

I can’t talk to you about any of these things, because you’re no longer kids.

You’re no longer easy to mold, easy to convince.  You have your own ideas and your own opinions and your own priorities and frankly your own species at times; your generation is so far removed from when even I was in year 10.  You’re the facebook, ipod, ipad, 3d tv generation.  You know more and have experienced more and learnt and forgotten and relearned so much more than I ever did at your age.

Ok if I start talking about the price of bread when I was a kid you officially have my permission to throw me out.

You’re not kids anymore, and unfortunately for those of us working in the “kid” industry, you’re growing out of being a kid earlier and earlier and earlier…

It used to be so easy to inspire you, motivate you, encourage you.  We pretty much just had to pop in a Disney movie and that would be the end of it.

But you’re all so grown now.  So in touch, so beyond the simple ways we used to learn. 

So I won’t tell you about the things you already know, you already hear, you already feel. 

I won’t tell you of the incredible power your generation has; you already feel it.  You’re the generation who are taking over the world; young men and women your age are right now in countries like Iran, using the internet to fight for social change.  In Bangladesh, uniting across vast cities to make a positive change in the slums of every suburb.  In Tanzania, taking collections of food and clothing and medical supplies to schools in some of the most remote villages on the planet.  Here in Canberra, marching on Parliament House, demanding our politicians consider not just the voters of today, but those of tomorrow, to deliver cleaner air, freer media, safer streets, a stronger, healthier, happier planet.

You see we talk to you about your potential and your opportunities.  Maybe we’ve reached the stage where you’re so difficult to reach that we just bombard you with as much as we can in the hopes that something slips through.  Maybe if you receive enough feedback about your limitless potential, you’ll get the drift and succeed somehow.

But we don’t talk to you enough about greatness.  About success.  About responsibility.

See we never really define success in a way that approachable.  Think of the word successful and you immediately think of either people who are rich, sports stars or celebrities.  I STILL don’t have a clue what Paris and Kim Kardashian do.

So is that greatness?  The pinnacle of success?  The goal for you to aim at?

Not really.  We’re not all athletes, we’re not all brilliant students, we’re not all models or dancers or writers or musicians or lawyers or doctors.

But that doesn’t preclude you from greatness, from success, because isn’t defined by your popularity or website hits, but by your acceptance of a responsibility and your accomplishment of it.

Greatness and responsibility.  They’re not often spoken of together, yet we instinctively marry the two.  

Responsibility has so many connotations to it. When we’re very young, and our parents tell us we’re responsible for taking care of the new puppy in the house, we’re delighted. A few years later, when we’re a little older, our parents remind us of our “responsibility” to walk the dog every day. We don’t find it that thrilling anymore. When they remind us that it’s our “responsibility” to take out the garbage or do the dishes, we look for the nearest exit. At least, I know I did.

Yet at the same time we assign responsibilities to all sorts of people around us with an aura of awe. We praise the team captain whose responsibility it is to lead his or her team, regardless of personal injury or suffering. We can’t get enough of athletes who push themselves on the field, then turn to the camera and tell us it’s their job to do what they do.

We see heroes on the screen overcoming personal conflict to fulfill a sense of responsibility and duty, cheering on those who do and jeering at those who give in to their own insecurities or failures.

As a society we debate and discuss, and often argue, the role of parents’ responsibility towards their children, whether through encouraging exploration of topics and ideas, or simply turning the TV off, confiscating the xbox and making sure you do your homework.

We even debate our government and education departments’ responsibilities to ensure certain curriculum are met, to better allow the mental growth of our kids, whether through introducing new programs and incentives, extending or limiting school hours and days, even whether schools should have uniforms, all to satisfy a responsibility to ensure all students are afforded a certain level of education upon which they can build their own destinies.

But you’re not kids anymore.

You haven’t been for a while now.

You walk like adults, you talk like adults, you act like adults.  Time to take ownership of your own responsibilities.

Not a single person on this planet has more of a responsibility for your success than you.  For your greatness than you.

You have an undisputed duty to yourself, to be who you want to be, to go after your dreams and goals and conquer all obstacles in your way.

Your responsibility is not just to dream, but to chase your dreams, no matter how small, no matter how big, no matter how far-fetched or close to home.

You have the responsibility, the unequivocal purpose to be great.

The most heart wrenching tragedy I have ever faced in my life is meeting kid after kid, from Bangladesh to Afghanistan to Sudan, who has not once been given the opportunity to dream of greater things. Not once imagined being able to change the course of their destiny.

Can you understand what that must be like? To never hear someone say that you can be whatever you want to be? To never know how to, let alone dare, to dream of a different future, a better future?

We need you to be dreamers. As a country, as a society, as a city, as a community, we need you to dream about what you want to be, whether a doctor, a lawyer, a carpenter, a plumber, a mechanic, a business-owner, even a professional athlete or artist. Waiting just on the horizon is the next Mozart, the next Picasso, the next Gilchrist, the next Churchill. 

Let me put it another way; the success of one person inspires and encourages the success of others. Whether you’re Tony Hawk, Gerry Harvey or the next Prime Minister, right through to the local sports coach, the teacher in your social studies class who encouraged you to read everything in sight, or the guys that run a small business who give you and your friends your first sponsorship deal so you can put on that show, or enter that competition, or set up your own event.

You have the opportunity to be any of those people, and thousands of thousands more, if you fulfill your responsibility to yourself.

So I won’t tell you what to do with your life.  Just be great at whatever you choose.

I won’t tell you what your profession should be.  Just be great at whatever makes you happy, whatever satisfies you.

I won’t tell you what your opinions should be.  Just make sure they’re your own, and reflect your own greatness.

I won’t tell you what you should do, what you should think, what you should feel, how you should speak.  So long as you do so greatly, with thought and presence and care and honesty.

I won’t tell you to have the next few years of your life figured out.  I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

So long as you know that you’re responsible for you.  For being a great you.  For being the best you.

Be great.