[Congressional Record Volume 165, Number 130 (Wednesday, July 31, 2019)]
[Senate]
[Pages S5231-S5232]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                        TRIBUTE TO DARREN WALKER

  Mr. LEAHY. Mr. President, on Sunday, May 19, 2019, I was honored to 
attend the 218th commencement ceremony at the University of Vermont, 
where my wife Marcelle was presented with an honorary doctorate degree 
and recognized for her many years of public service. The commencement 
speaker, Darren Walker, made this wonderful day even better when he 
delivered a truly moving address. By recounting his personal story, 
examining the challenges our Nation faces, and celebrating the 
achievements of the recent graduates, Darren implored us to view our 
differences as a strength and our division as a liability to our 
collective futures. It is with great appreciation that I recognize 
Darren for his commitment to social justice and thank him for sharing 
such an eloquent and unifying message with us on that day.
  As the president of the Ford Foundation, Darren oversees a $13 
billion endowment and $600 million in annual grant making for 
international social justice philanthropy projects. He has served as 
the vice president of the Rockefeller Foundation, as the chief 
operating officer of the Abyssinian Development Corporation, and has 
spent more than a decade working in the fields of international law and 
finance. Prior to all of this success, however, Darren was raised in 
the humblest of conditions by a single mother in rural Texas, where he 
attended public schools, and battled racism and homophobia, to set 
himself on a path toward what he says is the great honor of serving as 
president of the Ford Foundation.
  I ask unanimous consent to have Darren Walker's Address to the 
University of Vermont Class of 2019 printed in the Record. I encourage 
all Senators to read these moving remarks, with the hope that we can 
transcend our differences and focus on the shared values and 
aspirations that unite us.
  There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in 
the Record, as follows:

   Darren Walker Address to the Class of 2019, University of Vermont


218th University Commencement Ceremony Burlington, Vermont--Sunday, May 
                                19, 2019

       To President Sullivan; Provost Prelock; Senator Leahy and 
     Governor Scott; distinguished vice presidents and deans; 
     faculty and staff; and--most importantly--to the University 
     of Vermont Class of 2019: Congratulations!
       Graduates: I know how hard you've worked to earn the 
     achievement we honor today. I also know your success required 
     a lot of love, devotion, and commitment from the people in 
     your life, who helped you achieve this major milestone. So, 
     Class of 2019: Please join me in thanking your parents--and 
     all of the family, friends and teachers who have helped you 
     on your journey. This day is about you--but it's also about 
     honoring them.
       Today is special for many reasons. It's a celebration of 
     excellence--and of the promise your future holds. It's the 
     end of one chapter--and the beginning of another.
       But today is also special for an additional reason.
       You came to his magical community called Burlington, 
     Vermont, from different places. Different towns, and states 
     and countries around the world. You came to your degree by 
     different paths. Took different courses in different majors. 
     Even when you were on the same campus, you spent time with 
     different people, engaged in different activities. And after 
     today, you will go off in your different directions. To 
     different jobs, different cities and towns, entirely 
     different lives.
       And yet, here we are. Together. And the fact that we are 
     together--at this time, in this place--is remarkable.
       It's remarkable because this is a unique, wonderful moment 
     in your lives. But it's also remarkable because, in this new 
     digital world, we are too often led to believe that our 
     differences are reasons for division, rather than unity.
       Class of 2019, this is a defining characteristic of our 
     digital era: Whether it's algorithms that segment and select 
     the information we see based on our previous clicks and 
     likes; or media outlets incentivized to confirm our beliefs, 
     rather than deliver facts that help educate us and make us 
     better citizens; or political leaders who rally the extremes, 
     rather than serve a common good.
       As a result of all this, we jump to judgement--and 
     disagreement too often turns to dehumanization. We miss 
     opportunities to turn difficult and challenging moments into 
     teachable ones, from which we can learn and grow. We lose 
     touch with the shared values, and shared experiences, and 
     shared aspirations that bind us together in this country and 
     make us who we are.
       My message to you today is this: It doesn't need to be this 
     way--and it hasn't always been. And I know this to be true, 
     from my own journey.
       You see, many aspects of who I am as a person, as an 
     American, might be labeled as ``different.'' I am black. I am 
     gay. I live in Manhattan, that tiny island moored off the 
     coast, and a little unmoored from reality. And I spend much 
     of my time traveling across the country and around the world, 
     meeting visionary, courageous, resilient people fighting 
     poverty, inequality, and injustice. All of these things--the 
     things that make me different--define who I am.
       And there are parts of my story, that equally define me, 
     that are harder to see, which also make me different.
       I was born to a single mother in a charity hospital. We 
     lived in a shotgun shack in a small, rural community in East 
     Texas.
       I attended public schools and colleges. I was in the first 
     class of Head Start in 1965,

[[Page S5232]]

     received Pell Grants, and private scholarships.
       As an African American growing up in the south, I certainly 
     encountered bitter racism. But I also benefited from enormous 
     generosity--from people who provided me with support, and 
     encouragement, and who believed in my potential.
       You see, in spite of the differences I presented, and the 
     challenges I encountered, I always felt that my country, that 
     America, had my back. I had good people of good will cheering 
     me on and pushing me forward.
       Indeed, my story is an American story. It's a story of what 
     is possible, of what can happen, when ``we the people,'' live 
     up to our highest ideals. And when we do fulfill these 
     ideals, the fact of our differences does not hold us back, in 
     the very same way that the fact of our differences is not 
     really what divides us.
       Class of 2019: The differences among us and the divisions 
     between us: These are separate things. One does not 
     inevitably lead to the other.
       We are different, yes. But our differences are our 
     strength.
       Our division, on the other hand, is a liability--a 
     liability that has been exacerbated and exploited, I believe, 
     because of the corrosive, inequality that today is widening 
     in American society.
       More than what we look like, or where we come from, or how 
     we worship, inequality is what is tearing our communities and 
     country asunder.
       Economic inequality asphyxiates the very American idea of 
     economic and social mobility. It creates unprecedented wealth 
     gaps, sorting us into circles where we only engage with 
     people of similar means and perspectives.
       Persistent racial and gender inequality cause the sins of 
     our history to infect the present and imperil the future.
       Inequality helps explain the gaps between the experience of 
     rural Americans and urban Americans--and entrenches the 
     polarization in our political institutions.
       And inequality doesn't just cause our challenges. It also 
     prevents us from joining together to solve our common 
     problems.
       It undermines our hope for the future and erodes our faith 
     in one another. Because of it, we are less willing to trust 
     one another. Less willing to extend the benefit of the doubt. 
     Too often, we rush to judgement, assuming the worst 
     intentions of others.
       Now, I'm not naive. There are people for whom hate, and 
     harm is the intention. From Charlottesville to Pittsburgh, we 
     have witnessed the painful, pernicious impact of hate. And 
     while there certainly are racists, anti-Semites, homophobes 
     and prejudice in America today, this is not the character of 
     who we are as a nation. Most Americans believe in ideals of 
     equality and justice for all--and in order for these ideas to 
     be realized we must stand up to emboldened bigotry.
       And so, graduates: I ask you, I implore you, not to build 
     walls, but to build bridges and to build relationships, 
     because when I reflect on my own story, I know I did not get 
     here alone.
       None of us have.
       It was not the simple fact of my presence, or superficial 
     measures of diversity or inclusion, that led me to the great 
     honor of serving as president of the Ford Foundation, or to 
     the great honor of addressing you today. It was often people 
     who were very different from me extending their humanity, and 
     generosity, and their privilege to help me--leaving their 
     comfort zones behind; spanning a divide.
       It was people I didn't know--or came to know only later--
     who had faith in me, who invested in me, who sustained me on 
     my American journey.
       My story is proof of what can happen when people choose to 
     transcend their differences, and build bridges, and build 
     relationships. You, too, are proof. And, on its best days, so 
     is this country I love.
       America always has been the product of people choosing to 
     bind themselves together. Actively choosing. We are ``We the 
     people.'' We are e pluribus unum--out of many, one.
       Because of our differences, we can ascend from cooperation, 
     to collaboration, to innovation. Out of our differences, 
     there is hope. Out of difference, there can be unity. Out of 
     difference, equality and justice.
       And it's bigger than the United States. This issue 
     transcends boundary and geography. Out of many countries, we 
     are one planet--with one future.
       Which brings me back to where I started: The celebration of 
     difference--and all of the possibility that difference 
     unleashes.
       Out of many paths--out of many graduates--you are one 
     class. And while you have many careers and choices in front 
     of you, I hope you keep one objective in mind: To make this a 
     more just--a fairer world.
       So, I ask you: What bridges will you build? What new 
     relationships will you initiate? What justice will you serve? 
     What will you make possible for someone else?
       Many of the bridges you cross will not be physical 
     structures of concrete or steel. They will be relationships 
     you forge, through hard work and attention, respect and care, 
     listening and love. And the best relationships are those in 
     which you can be yourself and better yourself.
       If my experience is any indication, this is especially true 
     of relationships with graduates of this great university. My 
     partner in life of 26 years, David Beitzel was a proud member 
     of UVM's class of 1980. He passed away suddenly in January.
       David taught me so much about life, and our common 
     humanity. We were very different. We hailed from very 
     different places and backgrounds. But we found each other 
     despite those differences--and enriched each other's lives 
     because of them.
       Relationships with other people--friendships and family, 
     professional, romantic, incidental and intentional--all are 
     essential, no matter how different we may seem to be. They 
     strengthen our empathy, our compassion, our humanity, and 
     widen our perspectives.
       If we build bridges and bonds of connection, then when 
     injustice affects one of us, we know--deeply, personally--
     that it affects all of us. When we bind ourselves to others--
     when we recognize that our fates are bound together--we can 
     put the small things aside. We can make a world where stories 
     like mine are more probable, more likely, more common. We can 
     shrink the gaps of inequality and grow justice in its place.
       It will not be easy, class of 2019. Justice takes time. It 
     takes work. It takes love. And it takes risk.
       But I hope you find ways to build these bridges. I hope you 
     find ways to listen and be curious--to be present and 
     proximate. I hope you embrace difference--and reject 
     division.
       Class of 2019: I know you will answer the call--and I know 
     the future will be much better for it. It's yours for the 
     taking and the making, as of right now.
       Congratulations. Good luck. And Godspeed.

                          ____________________