The donut is equivocal
by Mark GreifSecond, I am certain that every one of us has the capacity to find very useful, very necessary employment. However, it might not be lucrative. Which is to say that while we might earn enough to eat, put a roof over our heads, and pay off our debt, the jobs that are at our fingertips require us to be servants of the public. We would be vulnerable, we would be humans, taking a public bus, being forced to share, having to reconcile our differences with strangers from all walks of life, perhaps purchasing only the things that we could afford right then, not on credit or future leverage but cash on the barrelhead just like the poor, no longer among the elites we know at this school, and perhaps not so wealthy. Perhaps not wealthy at all. We might be disappointed because we were not sharply upwardly mobile. We would have to face, for a period at least, that we had failed the American dream. We didn’t earn more than our parents, we didn’t have a larger home or a more exclusive social circle or wield more political or economic power. We weren’t living under the bright glare of glamorous reward. But it is at least possible that of the 21 million Americans enrolled in college, we have here among us some special abilities that have to be harnessed, developed, and then set free. It is quite possible that we have the capacity to engage in some special discussions, and to put into language what is in crucially short supply in America’s public places. One of our real challenges is whether or not we will freely make our voices, and our knowledge, and our skills and our learning about humanity available to the other citizens of this land. Those of you at this rally must help your fellow classmates, teachers, and administrators make choices that will benefit not the ranking, not the endowment, not the stock market, not the numbers, but the people, but humanity.
Second, I am certain that every one of us has the capacity to find very useful, very necessary employment. However, it might not be lucrative. Which is to say that while we might earn enough to eat, put a roof over our heads, and pay off our debt, the jobs that are at our fingertips require us to be servants of the public. We would be vulnerable, we would be humans, taking a public bus, being forced to share, having to reconcile our differences with strangers from all walks of life, perhaps purchasing only the things that we could afford right then, not on credit or future leverage but cash on the barrelhead just like the poor, no longer among the elites we know at this school, and perhaps not so wealthy. Perhaps not wealthy at all. We might be disappointed because we were not sharply upwardly mobile. We would have to face, for a period at least, that we had failed the American dream. We didn’t earn more than our parents, we didn’t have a larger home or a more exclusive social circle or wield more political or economic power. We weren’t living under the bright glare of glamorous reward. But it is at least possible that of the 21 million Americans enrolled in college, we have here among us some special abilities that have to be harnessed, developed, and then set free. It is quite possible that we have the capacity to engage in some special discussions, and to put into language what is in crucially short supply in America’s public places. One of our real challenges is whether or not we will freely make our voices, and our knowledge, and our skills and our learning about humanity available to the other citizens of this land. Those of you at this rally must help your fellow classmates, teachers, and administrators make choices that will benefit not the ranking, not the endowment, not the stock market, not the numbers, but the people, but humanity.