Celebrating the Michigan College Experience

Like any true Michigan man, I'm always eager to spread the good word about Michigan. A couple of weeks ago, I was asked to serve on a panel for high school students who wanted to learn more about the college experience here.

As I prepared my spiel on how you have a better chance to get into med or law school from Michigan, on how this university is easily the best in the Midwest, on how Ann Arbor restaurants trump all others, and last but not least,

if all else fails, how BTB is open till four AM. I got to thinking about my experiences here. What I really wanted to communicate was why I love Michigan. Now,

why do I love Michigan? I came to one prominent conclusion: seven-month winters. I wanted to put a finger on what this university means to me. I mean, Michigan is the only real college

experience I and most of you have ever had. Think with me now. What would college have been without packing into these seats on crisp Saturday afternoons to watch our boys in blue

just obliterate whoever it was who wasn't lucky enough to be wearing the winged helmet? What would it be to walk between classes and not see your upper-level biology professor jamming it up on a harmonica?

What would it be without the Fishbowl? Actually, I can answer that one. You probably wouldn't have wasted a sum total of about thirty hours of your life just looking for a computer. And then

I thought about the real reason a student comes to a place of higher learning like this one, Thursday nights. But education is a process of transformation, and I realized I love Michigan because the person who's leaving here today

is better than the one who came, and I know that extends to you, my fellow graduates, as well. So back to my story. I gave my spiel that day, and all was well and good until one kid sitting in the back, he raised his hand and he asked, "Bro,

what's this Michigan difference they keep talking about in the commercials?" For lack of anything better, I said, "Well, classes and commencements at Michigan start ten minutes later." That must have appeased him 'cause he'll be here in the fall. But

besides a great advertising ploy, what really is the Michigan difference? It was back to deep thought for me. Is it the sum total of knowledge that you and I might have gained in lectures, labs, or discussions?

Is it the fact that we're now more qualified for X, Y, or Z job, or that we've passed step one on our way to becoming doctors or lawyers? Is it the fact that I can now add two more letters to my name, which, by the

way, are BS? Obviously, none of these are the Michigan difference. And no, the Michigan difference isn't in the classes, or the papers

we've written, or the tests that we've sat through. It's not the faculty, the administration, the facilities, or even Ann Arbor. Excuse me. The Michigan difference

is us, the students. It's in the diversity of names, faces, stories, and experiences with which we decorate this great place. It's in the time that we spent in self-assessment,

self-improvement, and thought. It's the questions that we've asked and those that we've answered. It's the care we've shown, the people we've helped, and the passion that we

have that defines us. Moreover, it's the fact that we're about to go out into a world that absolutely needs us. It needs to hear our stories spoken loudly,

to consider our opinions, and to engage us in discussion. It needs us to ask it questions, to answer when it beckons, to show that we care,

and to give it mercy, compassion, and love. It needs us to help those less fortunate. But most of all, it needs us to spread that contagious Michigan passion that has come to define us.

It's that we have the audacity to believe that we can change this world, and that each of us will. That, my fellow graduates, University of Michigan

class of two thousand seven, is the Michigan difference, and I'm humbled to have been a part of it with you. Go Blue!