Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young
Mary Schmich
June 1, 1997
"Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some
world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be
Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of
wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't
entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.
I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and
thank you for indulging my attempt. Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '97:
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you only one tip for the
future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been
proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh,
never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until
they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of
yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay
before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you
imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know
that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never
crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle
Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts.
Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes
you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's
only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the
insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your
old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you
want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22
what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting
40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees.
You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe
you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll
dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do,
don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices
are half chance. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can.
Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest
instrument you'll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but
your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow
them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only
make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when
they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to
your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with
a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography
and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew
you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before
it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes
you soft. Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will
rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do,
you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were
noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe
you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know
when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the
time you're 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be
patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it
is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over
the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the
sunscreen".