speaker: Secretary Hillary Rodham Clinton,

Wellesley Class of 1969.

The Green Class of 1969.

Madam Secretary, on behalf of all of us:

Welcome.

Welcome home.

Forty-eight years ago, a young Hillary Rodham delivered

Wellesley’s first-ever student commencement speech, the

first of many ground-breaking firsts to distinguish her

career.

At a time of great turmoil in this country, she identified a

singular challenge.

It was—and I quote: “the art of making

what appears to be impossible possible.”

Last year, Hillary Clinton came closer than any woman in

history to breaking through what she’s so memorably

called “that highest, hardest glass ceiling.”

She was the first woman ever nominated for the U.S.

presidency by a major party.

-- -And she won the popular

vote!

In this way—and in so many others—she’s forever

changed our sense of what is possible.

Throughout her long career, she’s done this again and

again.

As the first First Lady to have an office in the White

House’s West Wing, Hillary Clinton continued her work

on behalf of women, children, and families—work that

had been an abiding passion since her student days.

In a historic speech at the UN’s 4th World Conference on

Women in Beijing, she asserted that “Human rights are

women’s rights and women’s rights are human

rights”—words that still resonate today.

Indeed, given

current events, they feel newly urgent.

Yet another first came in 2001, when she became the first

woman ever to serve as a U.S. Senator from New York State.

When terrorists attacked the World Trade Center

only months later, then-Senator Clinton quickly secured

20 billion dollars in aid to New York and went on to

assure that first responders got health care for ailments

that stemmed from exposure to toxic air and dust.

Many of us were deeply moved in March when a student

whose father was a first responder shared how much

these accomplishments meant to her family.

In 2009, Hillary Clinton resigned her Senate seat to

become Secretary of State.

Among her many accomplishments were sanctions against

Iran and an Israel-Hamas ceasefire.

She made LGBT rights a focus of U.S. foreign policy.

It was under her leadership that the first US Ambassador

at Large for Global Women’s Issues was established.

She is widely regarded as one of the most effective

Secretaries of State in the nation’s history.

But for all her accomplishments, it would be wrong to

focus on these alone.

At least as important is the spirit

behind them, her deep grounding in faith, family, and the

vision of a better world.

At the heart of Hillary Clinton’s

life is a single goal:

To help as many people as she possibly can.

I am not the first to observe that she embodies Wellesley’s

Latin motto.

Non Ministrari, sed Ministrare.

Not to be ministered unto, but to minister.

On my Wellesley desk, encased in a plastic sleeve, I have a

treasured letter from Secretary Clinton—a response to my

invitation to speak with Wellesley students following the

election.

In the letter, she writes: “I won’t be on the

sidelines for long because I believe so deeply in my

responsibility to keep doing my part to build a better,

stronger, and fairer future for our country and our world.”

I have known Hillary Clinton for more than 20 years—and

have admired her for far longer—but you know what?

Never has she inspired me more than she does today.

She.

Does.

Not.

Give.

Up.

Not when it matters.

She reminds us both of our capacities—and how far we

have to go.

And, as always, she continues to point the way

towards that never impossible future.

And now, Wellesley’s once and always, Secretary Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Thank you

Thank you very much for that warm welcome.

I am so grateful to be here back at Wellesley, especially for President Johnson’s very

first Commencement, and to thank her, the trustees, families and friends, faculty, staff,

and guests for understanding and perpetuating the importance of this college: what it stands

for, what it has meant, and what it will do in the years ahead.

And most importantly, it’s wonderful to be here with another green class to say,

congratulations to the class of 2017!

Now I have some of my dear friends here from my class, a green class of 1969.

And I assume, or at least you can tell me later,

unlike us, you actually have a class cheer.

1969 Wellesley.

Yet another year with no class cheer.

But it is such an honor to join with the College and all who have come to celebrate this day

with you, and to recognize the amazing futures that await you.

You know, four years ago, maybe a little more or a little less for some of you—

I told the trustees I was sitting with, after hearing Tala’s speech, I didn’t think I could

get through it.

So we’ll blame allergy instead of emotion.

But you know, you arrived at this campus.

You arrived from all over.

You joined students from 49 states and 58 countries.

Now maybe you felt like you belonged right away.

I doubt it.

But maybe some of you did and you never wavered.

But maybe you changed your major three times and your hairstyle twice that many.

Or maybe, after your first month of classes, you made a frantic collect call

(ask your parents what that was) back to Illinois to tell your mother and father you weren’t

smart enough to be here.

My father said, “Okay, come home.”

My mother said, “You have to stick it out.”

That’s what happened to me.

But whatever your path, you dreamed big.

You probably, in true Wellesley fashion, planned your academic and extracurricular schedule

right down to the minute.

So this day that you’ve been waiting for—and maybe dreading a little—is finally here.

As President Johnson said, I spoke at my Commencement 48 years ago.

I came back 25 years ago to speak at another Commencement.

I couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be this year than right here.

Now, you may have heard that things didn’t exactly go the way I planned.

But you know what?

I’m doing okay.

I’ve gotten to spend time with my family, especially my amazing grandchildren.

I was going to give the entire Commencement speech about them but was talked out of it.

Long walks in the woods, organizing my closets, right?

I won’t lie.

Chardonnay helped a little, too.

But here’s what helped most of all: remembering who I am, where I come from, and what I believe.

And that is what Wellesley means to me.

This College gave me so much.

It launched me on a life of service and provided friends that I still treasure.

So wherever your life takes you, I hope that Wellesley serves as that kind of touchstone

for you.

Now if any of you are nervous about what you’ll be walking into when you leave the campus,

I know that feeling.

I do remember my Commencement.

I’d been asked by my classmates to speak.

I stayed up all night with my friends, the third floor of Davis, writing and editing

my speech.

By the time we gathered in the Academic Quad, I was exhausted.

My hair was a wreck.

The mortarboard made it worse.

But I was pretty oblivious to all of that, because what my friends had asked me to do

was to talk about our worries, and about our ability and responsibility to do something

about them.

We didn’t trust government, authority figures, or really anyone over 30, in large part thanks

to years of heavy casualties and dishonest official statements about Vietnam, and deep

differences over civil rights and poverty here at home.

We were asking urgent questions about whether women, people of color, religious minorities,

immigrants, would ever be treated with dignity and respect.

And by the way, we were furious about the past presidential election of a man whose

presidency would eventually end in disgrace with his impeachment for obstruction of justice

after firing the person running the investigation into him at the Department of Justice.

But here’s what I want you to know.

We got through that tumultuous time, and once again began to thrive as our society changed

laws and opened the circle of opportunity and rights wider and wider for more Americans.

We revved up the engines of innovation and imagination.

We turned back a tide of intolerance and embraced inclusion.

The “we” who did those things were more than those in power who wanted to change course.

It was millions of ordinary citizens, especially young people, who voted, marched, and organized.

Now, of course today has some important differences.

The advance of technology, the impact of the internet, our fragmented media landscape,

make it easier than ever to splinter ourselves into echo chambers.

We can shut out contrary voices, avoid ever questioning our basic assumptions.

Extreme views are given powerful microphones.

Leaders willing to exploit fear and skepticism have tools at their disposal that were unimaginable

when I graduated.

And here’s what that means to you, the Class of 2017.

You are graduating at a time when there is a full-fledged assault on truth and reason.

Just log on to social media for ten seconds.

It will hit you right in the face.

People denying science, concocting elaborate, hurtful conspiracy theories about child-abuse

rings operating out of pizza parlors, drumming up rampant fear about undocumented immigrants,

Muslims, minorities, the poor, turning neighbor against neighbor and sowing division at a

time when we desperately need unity.

Some are even denying things we see with our own eyes, like the size of crowds,

and then defending themselves by talking about quote-unquote “alternative facts.”

But this is serious business.

Look at the budget that was just proposed in Washington.

It is an attack of unimaginable cruelty on the most vulnerable among us, the youngest,

the oldest, the poorest, and hard-working people who need a little help to gain or hang

on to a decent middle class life.

It grossly under-funds public education, mental health, and efforts even to combat the opioid

epidemic.

And in reversing our commitment to fight climate change, it puts the future of our nation and

our world at risk.

And to top it off, it is shrouded in a trillion-dollar mathematical lie.

Let’s call it what it is. It’s a con.

They don’t even try to hide it.

Why does all this matter?

It matters because if our leaders lie about the problems we face, we’ll never solve them.

It matters because it undermines confidence in government as a whole, which in turn breeds

more cynicism and anger.

But it also matters because our country, like this College, was founded on the principles

of the Enlightenment—in particular, the belief that people, you and I, possess the

capacity for reason and critical thinking, and that free and open debate is the lifeblood

of a democracy.

Not only Wellesley, but the entire American university system—the envy of the world—was

founded on those fundamental ideals.

We should not abandon them; we should revere them.

We should aspire to them every single day, in everything we do.

And there’s something else.

As the history majors among you here today know all too well, when people in power invent

their own facts, and attack those who question them, it can mark the beginning of the end

of a free society.

That is not hyperbole.

It is what authoritarian regimes throughout history have done.

They attempt to control reality—not just our laws and rights and our budgets, but our

thoughts and beliefs.

Right now, some of you might wonder, well why am I telling you all this?

You don’t own a cable news network.

You don’t control the Facebook algorithm.

You aren’t a member of Congress—yet.

Because I believe with all my heart that the future of America—indeed, the future of

the world—depends on brave, thoughtful people like you insisting on truth and integrity,

right now, every day.