I got Bs, for your information, and to this day, every Sunday I burn a small effigy to the pagan Gods of grade inflation.
But as I was fighting my way through Aleph Bet Yod Y’shua in Hebrew and the different mechanisms of neuro-response, I saw friends around me writing papers on sailing and pop culture magazines, and professors teaching classes on fairy tales and The Matrix.
I realized that seriousness for seriousness’s sake was its own kind of trophy, and a dubious one, a pose I sought to counter some half-imagined argument about who I was.
There was a reason that I was an actor. I love what I do.
And I saw from my peers and my mentors that it was not only an acceptable reason, it was the best reason.
When I got to my graduation, siting where you sit today after 4 years of trying to get excited about something else, I admitted to myself that I couldn’t wait to go back and make more films.
I wanted to tell stories, to imagine the lives of others and help others do the same.
I have found or perhaps reclaimed my reason.
You have a prize now or at least you will tomorrow.
The prize is a Harvard degree in your hand.