One of my favorite things about Brandeis commencements is the opportunity to hear from the variety of speakers who are invited to give messages to the graduates. Whether the speaker is an ambassador, a New York Times columnist or a doctor who does wonderful humanitarian work, it is a thrill to hear the wisdom these speakers have to impart.

Yet, as great as the messages we hear from these speakers are, the student addresses are often more disappointing. Rather than imparting a message, it seems that when students speak to other students, they share memories and jokes, but don't make any particular point.

In this, my last Justice column, I want to make a point. If there is one thing that inarguably characterizes and unites us as Brandeisians, it's that we all want to save the world. We all want to change the world.

We are aspiring doctors who spend our breaks doing volunteer work in developing countries. We are pre-law students who dream not of six-figure salaries in big law, but of representing and speaking for the disadvantaged and the disenfranchised. We may major in Economics or Chemistry, but we minor in Social Justice and Social Policy, Peace, Conflict and Coexistence, Truth, Justice and the American Way (yes, I know this last one isn't actually a minor). Almost all of us have been to a Deis Impact event or walked the track at Relay for Life.

To rephrase Margaret Mead's famous words: Brandeisians never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world.

In crafting our world-changing plans, most of us have been taught to think big; we want to fix the world in monumental, revolutionary, paradigm-shifting ways.

But the truth is, as great as our Brandeis education was, and as bright and motivated as we all are, most of us probably won't get that far. After all, only a select few really do change the world in those big, macro ways.

But the truth is that one of the greatest lessons I learned here is how much the little things count.

This is a small university. So small that it's nearly impossible to walk from the Shapiro Campus Center up to the Rabb steps without running into at least half a dozen people you know, if not by name, then at least by face. That means your walk to class will inevitably be punctuated by a few smiles, "hello"s and "how are you"s. You will end up making eye contact with that stranger you pass everyday in front of the Usdan Student Center and give him or her one of those nods.

And that is precious. Because if you are having one of those days when you feel rejected, disrespected and confused, a simple nod from a friendly stranger can make all the difference. That nod can remind you that you are important, respected and cared about.
At Brandeis, it's also surprisingly common for students to befriend the dining and maintenance service workers. It's an everyday occurrence that a dinner in Sherman Dining Hall or Usdan is accompanied by a friendly chat between a student and George, Jason, Maureen or any of our other beloved dining staff.
That, too, is precious. Because when the people who work in Sherman get stuck on campus overnight because of a snowstorm, that "How are you?" from one of us can remind a fellow human being that their work is appreciated and meaningful to hundreds of people every day.

This kind of sensitivity and care for others permeates our Brandeis culture.

That's why even though most of us won't negotiate peace in the Middle East or wean the world off of fossil fuels, each and every one of us can change the world.

There is a saying in both the Jewish and Islamic traditions that I'm sure are echoed in many faiths. It says that when someone saves a single life, it is as if he has saved the entire world. I'd like to take a bit of liberty with that quote and say that whoever changes a single life is as if he has changed the entire world.

Unfortunately, the real world doesn't foster the same sense of caring that Brandeis does. Walking up to Rabb, as hard on the legs as it is, is a much more pleasant experience than riding to work on a cramped, smelly subway at seven in the morning. It is far easier to make conversation with the cashiers we see every day in Usdan, than with the anonymous person at a checkout counter in the local convenience store.

The author David Foster Wallace, in a commencement speech he delivered a few years ago, said the following about real life: "If I don't make a conscious decision about how to think and what to pay attention to, I'm going to be pissed and miserable every time I have to food-shop, because my natural default-setting is the certainty that [frustrating] situations... are really all about me."
Real life will tempt us to be selfish and self-serving. It will feed our default setting of being inwardly focused on our own lives and needs. It will make it very, very hard to think of others, to be outwardly focused, to be kind.

That's why my hope for all of us graduating seniors is that whenever real life pushes us in the direction of selfishness and indifference, whenever it draws us away from others unhealthily back into ourselves, we remember what it meant to spend four years here at Brandeis.

Let's remember that we once wanted to change the world, and let's focus on the ever-so-important truth that if we just change one life, if we just make one person smile, it will be as if we have done just that.
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