Commencement
Commence. Begin. Launch. Arise. Come into being.
And so it has happened. Our students have begun their new lives as masters. They have launched their post-UCI careers and lives. They arise today to the first work week in a year without grad school. And our alumni as a group have now come into being.
It is hard to believe it has been a year, but here we are. The first cohort of MHCID students has graduated, and while there will be many others, and they will all touch the program and me in their own ways, there will never be another first cohort. I found myself Saturday more nervous than I was the day of my wedding, the day of my thesis defense, or the day I walked in my own graduate school ceremony. I walked around making them all a litte crazy mother henning over their hoods to make sure the velvet lay just right, taking pictures with excited parents and grandparents and children, and of course, rehearsing what I myself would say as the “master of ceremonies” for this auspicious occasion.
I was prepared to cry, and I did regularly. I was particularly touched by our student speaker’s speech. With her permission, I here include it in its entirety.
I would like to take this opportunity to share with all of you, one of the greatest life lessons I ever learned, as told by one of the wisest people I have ever known.
My grandmother, born Doris Minette Gold, grew up in Dorchester, Massachusetts, which still is one of the most depressed and depressing neighborhoods in Boston. Her family was not starving, thanks to her father’s cleverly hidden career — while his family thought he was in the men’s clothing and accessories business he was actually involved in illegal gambling, which is the basis of the best love story I’ve ever heard — but that’s a story for another day…As I said, her family was not destitute, but they were not well-off, and when my great-grandfather passed away suddenly, money became even tighter.
After high school, and a knee injury which would keep her from a career in her first passion, ballet, grandma turned to her second biggest passion and talent — painting and drawing. She applied to the Massachusetts College of Art, which was and still is the only public institute in this country for tertiary art education, and was called in for an in-person portfolio review.
I’m going to pause for a second…how many people in this room have been through a portfolio review of any kind? You know — the kind where you have to show the person who holds the golden ticket to your future in their hands, as they peruse things you have created. If you haven’t been through this, then it can perhaps be likened to a face-to-face audit with the IRS.
Needless to say, a portfolio review, especially your first one, is perhaps one of the most nerve-wracking experiences one can go through. Especially for a young Jewish woman, the grandchild of German immigrants, who grew up in the ghettos of Boston, with no prior formal art training. My grandmother must have very much felt like “little Dorie Gold,” as she sometimes called herself, as she walked through the echoing halls of Mass Art to show her work, in hopes of being accepted to the school. You see, even though Mass Art is a state school, and always has been relatively inexpensive, especially for residents of the Commonwealth, grandma could not afford tuition, and federal financial aid did not yet exist. Whether she knew that her only hope of going was to be accepted on a full scholarship, or not, I do not know. Based on how she told this story, it seems that this either hadn’t occurred to her when she applied, or she did know, but was not cognizant of how she might feel were she to be accepted on a full scholarship.
Grandma was an 18, 19, 20-year-old woman, and she had more pride than perhaps she even realized. Because she was accepted — one of very few each year — on a full scholarship, based on both merit and need, and because there was an element of need-based aid, the school’s term for her acceptance status was “Special Student.” This term did not sit well with Doris Minette Gold — to her, it implied all the things that she was already self-conscious about and she did not want to literally be called out as “special” in any way. She declined their offer, and did not attend art school, though she continued to paint, eventually stopping when she had children, after the war.
That decision — to not attend art school as a “special student” was the biggest regret of my grandmother’s life, though she never stated those words to me, explicitly. She was talented, and while she would never admit to it, she knew it, too; but pride reared its head and would not allow her to accept such an amazing opportunity. This was her lesson to me –
don’t be prideful and don’t ever think you’re “too good” for anything or anyone, because something you may pass on may prove to be the biggest regret of your life, much later in life.
And regret is the worst feeling in the world.
I’m not talking about regretting eating that entire chocolate cake last night, because choices like that are more obviously a bad idea, and can be seen as such with just a bit of thought. But other decisions we make in life are not so obvious — like the decision to not do something or not take action or not stand up for what is right, when you can. These are the choices that can come back to haunt you years later, when you realize what might have been, if only you had done, said, or gone to “x.” This is not the point of this story — to freeze everyone in this room with a gripping sensation of “what if?” because that’s really no more healthy, as it often turns into obsessive thoughts.
But I digress.
As you go out there, armed with a degree in designing interactions between humans and machines, realize that you have knowledge that can be put towards great good — the greatest good, if you should desire — but also for a great deal of capitalistic evil, such as addictive designs. Be inclusive, not exclusionary, in your work, and by this I don’t just mean to design inclusively — but think broadly, and act broadly within your narrow sphere of locus, and while I guarantee nothing, I promise you have a better chance of regretting nothing at the end of the day.
~ Stacey Seronick, September 16, 2017
I can add so little to this touching tribute and great advice. I did, however, have an opportunity to get in one last bit of knowledge. As it turns out, it takes months to get your diploma from the University of California. I assume this has something to do with them all being signed by our president (Janet Napolitano) who is pretty darn busy. So, we gave them a leather bound folder that might hold a diploma and instead it held these last three bits of advice from me. These three borrowed quotes speak to what the students do (often so hard to explain when you are in HCI), what they can do, and what they will do whether they like it or not.
I study the way people think and feel while they use computers so I can
make computers easier and more pleasurable to use.
— Bonnie John, MHCID advisory board member,
Bloomberg UXer, and founder of the CMU MHCI program
You are young and you are the future, so suck it up and
tough it out and be the best you can.
— John Mellencamp
You get to make your own luck. 80% of success in your career
will come from just showing up. The world is run by those who
show up…not those who wait to be asked.
— Steve Blank
With all my love to the students of Cohort One. Go off and be brilliant. Take the light of UCI with you and shine on.
