Wayne A. Danielson's Address

College of  Communication Commencement

May 18, 1974

THE BEST OF TIMES; THE WORST OF TIMES

Charles Dickens, recalling a time now almost exactly 200 years ago, wrote in the first chapter of A Tale of Two cities the following description of 1775:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way -- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

The quotation is particularly apt for the class of 1974 because surely, as we approach the 200th anniversary of the revolutionary era Dickens was writing about, we find ourselves once again in "the best of times and the worst of times."

We live in an age of technological marvels and political ineptitude -- our spaceship scans Jupiter at the same time that back on earth one out of seven inhabitants is starving.

It is the best of times and the worst of times.

The United States is the most productive nation on earth, but our pennies are going out of circulation because inflation has made the copper they contain worth more than the face value of the coin.

We understand economics better than ever before, yet our country stands on the brink of a depression.

It is the age of wisdom and the age of foolishness.

We are a peace-loving people, but we have just pulled out of one of the longest, dirtiest and most mystifying wars in history.

We are pledged to save energy, but our car manufacturers give us models that now average between eight and 12 miles per gallon.

It is the epoch of belief, it is the epoch of incredulity.

The God of our fathers is widely declared to be dead, but our spiritual needs are so great that we idolize a rather plump teenager from India as a perfect master.

Our president assures us that he is going to tell us all about Watergate, but his taped private conversations indicate that he is trying desperately to "put the cap on the bottle."

It is the season of light, it is the season of darkness.  Jonathan Livingston Seagull, the purest Molasses ever to solidify in book form and The Exorcist, the vilest imitation of literature yet to be published, both are best sellers.

We proclaim freedom and dignity for women at the same time that we patronize clubs advertising topless and bottomless waitresses.

It is an age of science and an age of astrology.

It is the spring of hope, it is the winter of despair.

Our favorite humor is the good news/bad news joke.

To put it politely, graduates, the world hasn't changed much since 1774.  Everything is all mixed up.  It's still a time of superlatives.  It's still the best of times and the worst of times.  You might say there has been a 200-year gap in our tapes.

Yet I would like to observe that two hundred years ago -- in that confusing and contradictory time -- some other young people in this country were starting out, too.  I refer to Alexander Hamilton, who was 17 in 1774, James Madison who was 23, Betsy Ross who was 22, and that old man, Thomas Jefferson, who was 31.  These young people, and others like them, setting out in wonderful and terrible times, helped bring out nation into existence.  And more than that, they succeeded into putting into enduring form an idea -- the concept of an ideal republic -- that has guided our people for 200 years and that still guides us.  How were they able to d it?  What made their generation great?

No one really knows, I think.  They were young and energetic.  They were prepared to work hard for what they believed in.  They had been well educated-- at least their leaders had been.  But beyond all those things -- They were not led astray by the superlatives of their time.  They moved through the opposing forces calmly, deliberately, considering them, balancing them, progressing always toward their goal.

You can see this sense of balance in the homes they built -- Monticello, Jefferson's home in Virginia -- is like the Constitution in brick, a perfect set of checks and balances, symmetrical, logical, functional, beautiful.  You can see this sense of balance in the sentences they wrote --

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

You can see it in the balanced lives they led or tried to live -- Old Ben Franklin, our first and greatest communicator of the new world, is probably the best guide as he advocated the natural life:

"Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and

wise."

All of this comes to mind in considering your class -- of 1974, for I have noted that as a group you have a sense of direction and balance, a certain perspective, also.  David Riesman has written that the twentieth century produces other-directed, not inner-directed men and women.  But I think he is wrong, at least in the case of your college generation.  Your class was less inclined to the mass movement, to riot, to sit-in, to protest in bizarre ways.  It was more stable.  It was moving steadily on.  It was finishing college in less time.  It was more efficient.  Its grades were better.  It could move among the superlatives of the time and, in the words of the Beatles, "Let it be."

Its members could often be seen on campus in meditation, not stoned out of their minds, but drawn deeply into their minds, seeking inner resources, perspective, balance.

That's one reason I have great expectations, to use another Dickensian phrase, for this class.  It's true that you go out to start the third century in the life of the republic in confusing and tumultuous times.  It is the best of times, the worst of times.  But I feel that like those young people of 200 years ago, you have your own compass, your own gyroscope -- to keep you headed in you own direction and balanced and steady on the way.