Alia Yunis

Five years ago, I gave the commencement talk at Brighton College in Al AIn in the UAE, and I talked about not being able to Google the future. Those students have or will graduate from university this year. And what a future none of us could have imagined: Their university years were framed by a pandemic one end and a genocide on the other, both of which they courageously responded to. Cheating was also revolutionized during their university years with arrival of ChatGTP and while you still can’t Google the future, Google has proven itself creepily capable of moderating it. Here are my words from the seemingly faraway days of 2019.

Thank you to Brighton College for inviting me to be here at this moment.  I am glad you are all here.  I too come from a small graduating class, but we could not all be at our graduation. I will tell you why in a bit.  Firstly, I want to say that being part of a small group means a close bond that will last a lifetime.  And that bound will even stay with the classmates who cheated off your exams or ones you have nothing in common with –and perhaps will have even less in common with them in the future, as many of you will grow into people with different political, religious and personal beliefs. And that bond can be a bridge to those different beliefs.

But unlike my graduating class, you have Google.  You will never say “I wonder where Yung lives? I wonder if Mohammed got married already. I wonder if Zeinab became a doctor. I wonder how many kids Suhail has. Google will tell you.

But when you think “I wonder who I will be,” you cannot ask Google.  You cannot Google the future.  Neither you nor Google can predict or calculate all the good and bad days ahead. And that’s what makes the future the most mysterious place.  Many of us are taught to think of it as a scary place—the scary unknown, as in sci-fi films– but it is magical beautiful unknown. The place where everything is possible. And as long as you are on this earth, everyday has a future.

I’m a writer, and as you may have already learned, as Aristotle explained so many centuries ago, all storytelling is based on the three- act structure.  And at the present you are a living the first act of your life, for the long second act into the beautiful unknown.  Each one of us has a life that has its own story that only we can write, even though it involves other protagonists and antagonists, most of whom you have not yet met, many of whom have not yet been born.  You will meet them in the second act.  The first act is being nurtured to be ready for the journey of your life.  That’s what this graduation symbolizes, for you and your family and teachers who have helped get to the end of the first act.

The second act is the longest act of your life, in which you will keep growing, have adventures, misadventures, love and struggle.  That’s what makes a good story.  You are writing the story as you go, with input from the world around you—and not even Google can tell you how that will be written or how it will end. 

A few years ago, I wrote novel in which the main character, Fatima, a person at 86-years old, entering the concluding third act of her life but still afraid of the future. Thus, she gave everyone around her bad advice—four generations of bad advice based on fear—to her neighbors, her children, her grandchildren and her great grandchildren.  Things like never disagree with your boss because what he fires you; don’t eat anything you didn’t see get made because what it has a parasite that that could cripple you; don’t expect too much from a marriage because what if you never find anyone else. 

She “what-iffed” her way into the third act of her life, the act where you are supposed have mastered the challenges of the second act.  But because of fear of the future, she had not. 

The other day I started wondering what Fatima would have would have said if she wasn’t afraid of the future, because that would have allowed her to give some good advice.

Sure, there are the obvious things like say “sorry” when you have done something you regret; don’t say “sorry” when you mean, “Excuse but I have something to say.”  “Don’t fight a compliment, just take it, and remember to think of others, and compliment them.”  You can find this solid advice all over Google, provided by celebrities and strangers.  But the real questions are why we always search Google for advice when Google can’t know why each of us is the way we are.

Thus, I think Fatima would have said instead:

1. If someone is rude to you, Google won’t have an answer as to what’s wrong with this specific person in front of you. Before you decide to hate them, ask yourself is this a bad person, or a person who is struggling with pain over something that just happened. Then respond calmly, rather than with matching rage. It’s human to hate, but it’s even more human to respond humanely.  But you need to also recognize the signs of a dangerous person.  Google can give you some tips, but you need to become aware of others’ behavior. Be offline enough to understand the environment around you. 
2. But always seek out information –never stop learning.  Take time to listen to yourself and learn from others.  Let your family and friends and others around you, as well as yourselves, be your own Google. These people will nourish your story the most. 
3. Get a major in confidence with a minor in humility. Don’t freak out when you read stories on Google about someone who was so passionate about his major, he was a millionaire before he graduated from university.  Not everyone finds their true passions at 18–probably most people don’t. 
4. If you are depressed or scared, please talk to someone. They will understand.  Don’t search endlessly through Google for a cure.

Again, I’m glad you are all here. Really. I probably would not have gone to my high school graduation if my teachers hadn’t made me.  My parents were trapped in two different war zones and so they couldn’t communicate with me, but I’m sure they also would have said “You have to go.”  I didn’t want to go because I thought why party when people are dying and being bombed somewhere else.  But if we don’t celebrate what is great, we won’t be able to know why we fight for light rather than darkness.  So, remember to celebrate your milestones and that of others, online and offline.

This is a true celebration of graduating to your second act, the big journey, to days ahead of doing your own laundry, getting yourself to places on time, or even deciding if you want to go to those places or not, deciding when to standstill and catch your balance, and deciding when to plunge ahead.  Let the world be your Google.  Congratulations!  Mabrouk!