听过马里兰大学中国留学生毕业演讲，再来听听这个，很值得

这是秦朔朋友圈的第1366篇原创首发文章

编者按：刘佳妮是美国布朗大学应用数学经济和东亚研究双学位荣誉毕业，她曾在秦朔朋友圈发表过《我想来美国，我想做这座桥》等文章，也真的做起了由一批中美两国的青年领袖和美国常青藤名校毕业生发起的非盈利组织“青年百人会”（简称：百青会），致力于中美文化交流。她说美国前外交部长曾对她说过：“中美有太多的误会，其实减少误会有个简单的方法：如果你愿意把最珍爱的东西送到对岸去，一定能从对岸得到收获，我的三个女儿假期都会到中国支教。”

在马里兰大学杨舒平的毕业演讲事件之后，她也第一时间写了评论——《马里兰大学的杨舒平，她内心一定拥有得太少》。她一直关注着这件事的影响，于是，她又发给我们一个她亲自翻译的布朗大学毕业生的演讲，她说这是与马里兰有鲜明对比的演讲。

5月28日星期天，Viet Nguyen作为布朗大学第二十四届开业典礼的毕业生之一，于当天在布朗大学的毕业典礼上发表题为 “值得的含义”的演讲，没有任何套路，全是独立思考和理性批判。或许这才是刚毕业的大学生应有的姿态。

值得的含义

在我的一生中，我只看到我的妈妈哭了两次。第一次是四年前在T.F.Green机场，在我去学校报到之后，她在机场和我分别，我们一直在重复戏剧性的夸张告别拥抱，我仍然记得当时的她泪流满面；第二次看到我的妈妈哭是在四个月前，当我寒假回家时，她看到我打了耳洞，染了黄色的头发。（笑）

其实，我还是不知道她在哪一个瞬间哭了起来，我爱你妈妈。

当我在大学之间进行决定时，我的一位亲密导师给了我一些我现在依然相信的建议。他说每所大学都会为你提供或多或少的相差无几的教育，但是他们会以不同的方式去塑造你。想象一下在千万种不同学校里，你会被塑造成为千万种不同的自己，（于是你要做的就是）选择一种你最喜欢并且最想要成为的样子，朝着它去努力。

对我来说，那所学校是布朗。

对此，在过去的几个月里，我一直在迁思回虑，布朗是如何改变我和我们的？我们所有的变化都是显而易见的：正如我们中的许多人一样，我作为一名医学预科生进入了布朗；正如我们中的许多人一样，我已经不再学医了。（笑）

大一的整整一年里，我几乎没有和任何人交谈，我感到前所未有的恐慌。因为我宿舍里的每个人都有清晰的目标和计划。他们有擅长的东西，有热衷的事，他们或者在物理系认真研究知识理论，或者忙着在黑客编程游戏中获胜，或者全心致力于应对疟疾传播工作......总之我很清晰地看到他们是为何被布朗选中，拥有这所常青藤学校的机会的。

另一边的我，穿着一件浴袍，每天十分懒散，甚至连每周一次下午两点的生物研讨会都是睡过去的。我没有拜读过任何一位领先思想家的作品，也没有完全理解我第一年文学课上使用的大部分词汇。尼采是谁，为什么他的名字很难发音？我选择了计算机初级课CS15三次，以至于连这门课的教授Andy Van Dam （布朗最有名的计算机系教授）都以为我是这门课助教，因为我年复一年地出现。（笑）

在二年级中期，我感觉度日如年，我只是勉强在应付我的校园生活，我很坚信，我来错了地方。

那一年，我开始参加那个被他们称为“负担焦虑症”的校园诊疗小组，我相信在坐的很多人都有过同样的经历，因为大家都经历过迷茫，经历过迷茫时候的求助。这个小组安慰大家的方式其实很简单，每一个谈话或多或少都是说同样的事情，招生办公室是不会犯错的，你要相信他们录用你是因为你有资格，你已经努力了，你值得在这所常青藤学校（学习生活）。

学校的筹款办公室总是和外界这样宣传：“布朗学生是不同的，我们是批判性的思考者。毋庸置疑，我们是与众不同的。”于是，我开始一步步逼自己相信我被选中是有原因的，我也是布朗的一部分。

有了信心的新来源，我看到更多微妙的事情改变了我的习惯。我注意到用学术语言去描述同样想法时，我突然能表达出更多不一样想法了。所以我改变了我说话的方式，我改变了我的词汇，我试图赶上我的同学们，我开始引用理论在日常的对话中，使用不必要的长而复杂的话。

这些学术上的“赶超”其实也不完全是坏事，因为我开始在“浸泡”中好像明白了很多贤者的道理，我好像开始变成了那些“值得坐在这所学校”的人。

可是我的想法很快就改变了，精英主义、学术与“值得”的关系在我心中的位置开始发生了变化。这个学期开始，总统颁布了“禁飞令”（中东七国公民禁止进入美国），有一位麻省理工的学生在回学校的时候就被海关禁止入境，于是我们身边的同学们开始分享他的故事，就连抗议文章都写的很复杂，在文章中，提到了他的学术潜力，他今后可能对学术界做出的贡献。为什么会感叹这是一个悲剧？尽管无意和善意，在这一思路下，我们还是把一个人贡献社会的能力，成就与才华以及他们应获得的权利联系在了一起。如果是这样的话，那这对于一个来自一个并不是那么著名的学校，也没有那么显著的成就的学生意味着什么呢？难道他们就必须低人一等吗？

在今天这个毕业的时刻，当你周围弥漫着恭维之意，称赞之词的时候，尤其要记住这一点：

我们很努力，我们有成就。但是一个常青藤学历 ——无论我们能引用多少马克思、编程出多少俄罗斯方块、说几门语言——并不代表我们比别人更加“值得”拥有任何权利。

减少我们心中的不安全感并不是依靠不断地强调我们的精英主义，不断提出自己的精英教育也不是增加在自己在别人心中价值的方式。

如果人们想看到真的努力，他们应该去看看我的妈妈和我的阿姨，她们从越南搬到这里，从一个英文单词都不懂的妇女，变成现在独立自信的牙医助理；

如果人们想看到坚毅，其实他们更应该去看看我的爸爸和祖父，他们每天工作到凌晨四点后，还要挨家挨户送完报纸才能结束这一天的全部工作。

不要只看我们自己本身。

如果布朗教给我一件事，那就是这张学历不代表智慧。

今天，在我们取得学位之际，请记住，比起为“这张学历将在未来如何把我们和其他人区分开来”高兴，我们更应该为它所给我们提供的责任而自豪，我们应该为更多人能够像我们在布朗这个象牙塔中一样平等的生活而努力。我们需要用布朗这所常青藤的文凭给我们的资质和平台，让世界大多数的地方的人们，不需要一个常青藤学历也能够发出他们的声音，享受他们的权利。

我从同学眼中看到对改变不平等的现状的渴望，就是我选择了布朗的原因。我的伙伴们，在我结束这四年在布朗的学习生活之际最想要去做的就是，像坐在这里的勇往直前的你们一样，为了继续建造一个更美好的世界而奋斗。对我来说 ，分享这一经验——这是布朗的真正价值。

我们需要继续为了信仰和原则去奋斗，但要记住，我们不能只是孤守在象牙塔顶端。

感谢在座的诸位共同赋予过去四年的无与伦比的精彩！

让我们一起打一场仗，然后赢得这场战争的胜利。

Viet Nguyen: 'The Idea of Deserving'

Viet Nguyen, one of two graduating seniors chosen as orators for the 249th Commencement, delivered an address titled "The Idea of Deserving" on the College Green on Sunday, May 28.

PROVIDENCE, R.I. [Brown University] — Throughout my life, I have only seen my mom cry two times. The first time was at T.F. Green Airport four years ago as she was about to drop me off on the plane after Orientation. I still remember the tears rolling down her face as we embraced in an overly dramatic goodbye hug.

The second time I saw her cry was four months ago, when I came home from winter break with my ears pierced and my hair dyed blond. I actually still don’t know which time she cried harder. I love you, mom.

When I was deciding between colleges, one of my close mentors gave me advice that I still pass on. He said every college will provide you with more or less the same education, but they will each shape you in different ways. Imagine all of the different versions of yourself at the end of four years at each of the schools, and choose the version of yourself that you like the most.

For me, that school was Brown.

These last few months, I’ve thought a lot about this advice. How has Brown changed me, us? It would be easy to point out all the obvious ways we’ve all changed. Like many of us, I came into Brown as pre-med — and like many of us, I am no longer pre-med.

My entire freshman year, I barely spoke to anyone because I felt so intimidated. It felt like everyone in my dorm had a clear sense of purpose and vision. They had things that they were good at, things they were passionate about. They were working on diversity and inclusion in the physics department, winning hackathons or working to tackle the spread of malaria. There were clear reasons why they were chosen to be at Brown.

On the other hand, I wore a bathrobe 24/7 and slept through my 2 p.m. biology seminar on a weekly basis. I hadn’t read work from any of the leading thinkers and didn’t understand most of the words used in my first-year English class. Who is Nietzsche and why is his name so hard to pronounce? I shopped and dropped CS-15 [a computer science course] three times. It got to the point where [faculty member] Andy Van Dam thought I was a teaching assistant for the course because I showed up year after year.

By mid-sophomore year, I was just about done. I was certain that I was in the wrong place.

That year, I began attending workshops on this thing they call imposter syndrome, something that I’m sure many of us went through, trying to reassure myself that I did belong. And each talk said more or less the same thing. The admissions office does not make mistakes. You have grit. You’ve worked hard. You deserve to be here.

As I progressed through Brown, there was more and more reinforcement of this idea. Advertisements and fundraising campaigns all hammered in this point: Brown students are different. We are critical thinkers. We are special. Needing to believe that I had a reason to be at Brown, I drank it up.

With this newfound confidence, I saw more subtle things change in my behavior. I noticed that the same ideas verbalized with academic language suddenly had more weight, and so I changed the way I talked. I changed my vocabulary. I tried to catch up with my classmates and began citing theories in everyday conversations, using words that were unnecessarily long and convoluted.

While these things aren’t inherently bad, what eventually happened was that I began to place more and more value on those behaviors and consequently, the people that embodied them. It shifted who I saw as "impressive," who I saw as "deserving."

I saw the repercussions of this troubling academic elitism take shape around me earlier this semester when the travel ban was instated. Many of us shared Facebook posts of an MIT student unable to re-enter the country. In our posts, we cited his academic potential, his future contributions to academia, as to why this was a travesty. While unintentional and well-meaning, this line of thought drew the connection between someone’s ability to contribute to society, their accomplishments and their intelligence, with how deserving they were of their rights. What does this say about the student from a less-flashy school with a less-than-stellar academic performance? Are they any less deserving?

It is especially critical to remember this during a time when celebratory terms of congratulations and words like deserve, earned and merit are swimming in the air.

We have worked hard. We have accomplished. But an Ivy League education — how ever many academic scholars we can quote, whether we’ve read Marx or coded Tetris — does not make us inherently any better or any more deserving than anyone else.

Addressing our own insecurities about inadequacy does not mean we have to overcompensate by turning to elitism just to increase our sense of self-worth.

If you want to see hard work, look at my mom and my aunts, who moved here from Vietnam without knowing a word of English and taught themselves to be dental assistants. If you want to see grit, look at my dad and grandfather, who worked until 4 a.m. every day delivering newspapers to make ends meet. Don’t just look at us.

If Brown has taught me one thing, it’s that intelligence can’t be captured by a piece of paper.

Today, as we obtain our degrees, remember that we should not be celebrating how the degree differentiates us from the rest of world. We should be celebrating the responsibility that it provides us to ensure that others have the same opportunities that we had at Brown. We need to use the platform that a Brown diploma gives us to equalize the field to the point where having an Ivy League degree is no longer necessary to be heard.

The inspired fire that I see every day in my classmates’ eyes to tackle injustices: that is why I chose Brown. My peers, the tireless advocates sitting here today that continue to fight for a better world, that is the person that I wanted to become at the end of my four years. And to me — sharing that experience — that is the true value of Brown.

We need to continue to fight the good fight, but remember that we cannot do good work simply sitting at the top of the Ivory Tower.

Thank you to the Class of 2017 for an incredible four years. Let’s fight the good fight. And let’s win.

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