I want to be a ballerina. (5 second pause) I want to be a fireman. I want to be a professional athlete. I want to be a dictator of a small South American country. When we were kids we fantasized about what we wanted to be when we grew up. At five there were no limitations placed on us. We could do anything, be anything. I remember vividly my first career choice; (pause)a super hero. It started after a bath, when instead of putting my underwear where it belonged, it somehow found its way on to my head. I cruised by the full length mirror to see that quite miraculously by looking through the leg holes I was transformed into a bug. I was then struck with an incredible thought. I quickly scurried to the linen closet and grabbed one of the forbidden"big" towels. The towels earmarked only for my father just because his body was of greater mass. After a guilt ridden glance around, I tied the towel around my neck and ran back to see the complete package. There standing buck naked with Fruit-of-the-Looms on his head was the ultimate crime fighter....... Bugman. But alas, with high school graduation looming later that same week I recognized that I had to put these dreams behind me and focus on my real future. The trouble was what once seemed like and endless pool of opportunities now seemed to be narrowed down to like six, seven tops. What happened? What happened to the ego that could accomplish anything? Where the heck did my Bugman go? Through my own journey to discover this I came to understand three things of which I would like to share with this graduating class. 1. Know who you really are and believe in that person, 2. Never be afraid of change, and 3. Happiness sometimes is wearing a mask.
From the first time we squirt into this world we are known to be Tabula Rosa, blank slates. It is not soon afterward that we start creating ourselves through the eyes of others. We see our reflection of who we are by the reactions others have towards us. Drop a ball in 3rd grade that loses a game and you see the disappointment in teammates and friends and parents eyes and you loose confidence in your abilities. Poof! The thought of a career of playing left field for the Royals slaps you in the face as an impossibility. Of course had you been any good you would have been traded to the A's anyway but in the third grade this doesn't enter into the equation. You go home and throw away your George Brett Preparation-H poster your father told you would be worth some money one day. One of many endless career options has just been eliminated. Bring home a bad grade and hear a parent tell you you're A) stupid B) lazy or C) all of the above. You pick up this label and stick it on your forehead backwards so that every time you look in the mirror that's what you see. Career options 2 through 1,000 and 1,001 through 42 hundred are gone. You trip in front of peers...."Klutz!", gone 4,201 to 7,000. Puberty hits, zits, "Pizza face!" 7,001 to 10,000 gone. We are funneled through others opinions of ourselves until we actually believe that the person others have created is who we are.....IT isn't! I implore you to see yourself though new eyes and know that those doors that were once closed by others can be reopened by you.