A Weekend of Different Worlds

How can one encounter radically diverse universes in two days, within an hour of home? God must find ways to stretch us if we ever grow too complacent or stuck in the familiar…

Let’s just say I didn’t go to the local car show intentionally, but the main road in town was closed for it, and I wanted to get to yoga. Made it there on foot, which gave me bird’s eye views of gentlemen displaying their cars. Many antique, all glistening. The hoods were open for engine inspection (though I wouldn’t know what to look for?) and the owners hovered nearby with white handkerchiefs, lest a speck of dust fall therein. Clearly a great amount of time and energy had poured into these vehicles. I must admit that I simply want my car to start and get me where I’m going with minimal fuss. In short, I don’t want to think about it. So the ardent devotion and dedication was a glimpse into another mindset.

Next day, I was overwhelmed in a different way, at Stanford University’s commencement. After the huge event for over 5000 students in the stadium, each department held their own smaller gathering in tents scattered around the campus. Tables were filled with abundant refreshments, background music played quietly, and the pride of parents was on full display.

It quickly became apparent why they were bursting at the seams. Many students seemed to be first generation, and a majority were women of color. They were pursuing fascinating research and futures full of potential. (One Latina for instance, after receiving her Ph.D. at Stanford, was going on to Harvard within the month for an MBA, then planned to open a non-profit. Some received their law degrees and Ph. D.’s simultaneously, and brought their knowledge to amicus briefs and AI.) Although I’d known in my mind that the face of higher education was changing, I saw it with my own eyes: among the 30 graduates at all levels in the Linguistics department ceremony I attended, only one white male. (Cue Bob Dylan: “And the times, they are a changin’…”) A sampling of backgrounds: Lakota, Hong Kong, Burma, Cuban part of Miami.

That might have been simply one department, but the impression was borne out afterwards, by the waves of students crossing campus: again, without a scientific count, many graduates were people of color. Their mothers dressed in garments unique to their cultures, wearing a wide variety of beautiful saris, elaborate embroidered aprons over long skirts, with their offspring in mortarboards decorated for individual ethnicities.

I hope what I saw there was the emergence of a tremendous force for good in some of the brightest youths at one of the world’s finest universities. Of course at such an event, all is potential: waving banners, displays of rich colors in academic hoods, balanced by long traditions, family and institutional launching pads built over generations.

Our worlds can grow narrow without our noticing—unless we’re lucky enough to have a large nudge and potent reminder that “in the Father’s house, there are many rooms.”