By Amy Yuen

Read a transcript of Professor Emeritus Edwin Bridges' commencement address following the article below.

Stanford University School of Education celebrated its 121st Commencement in the West Oval Grove on Sunday, June 17. Professor Emeritus Edwin Bridges delivered the Commencement Address to the 2012 graduating class.

In a refreshingly breezy tone, Bridges advised the School of Education graduates to think carefully about the important sacrifices they will make in pursuit of their personal and career choices.

"Every choice involves a sacrifice, for oneself and for others," said Bridges, who is widely recognized for his contributions to the preparation and development of school leaders. "That statement is hardly profound; however, its consequences are."

Bridges went on to recall a conversation he had years ago with a Chicago cab driver, who expressed regret over the time he spent chasing material success at the expense of his relationships with his wife and children. "This cabby, fine man that he was, was so blinded by his desires that he failed to consider the sacrifices for his family and for himself. Sadly in my experience, this is an all too common mistake."

He implored the graduates to identify the top three or four things that are most important to them, and the sacrifices they are unwilling to make no matter what choice or opportunity they face.

"Thanks to the cabby, I can enter the check-out line when my time comes with few regrets," he reflected. "I am not estranged from my four children. My wife and I like, as well as love, each other. I have students who continue to care about me as I continue to care about them. I have several really close friends, the kinds who feel comfortable sharing their innermost thoughts and feelings with each other. Strangely, the more I paid attention to the sacrifices and set aside my desire for professional recognition, the more recognition I received."

Prior to Bridges' address, Dean Claude Steele greeted the graduating students and acknowledged the substantial challenges they will face as they embark in careers in education. "On a daily basis, the media gives us multiple reasons for anxiety," he said, citing "massive funding cutbacks at all levels of schooling, especially in California; persistent, even growing achievement gaps within society."

Still, Steele expressed great confidence in the School's newest graduates. He pointed to two "winds at their backs" that will propel their futures: the heightened interest and openness for innovation in education by critical education stakeholders, and the outstanding knowledge and skills they gained at Stanford.

Steele told the graduates, "You have to wait for some challenges and opportunities in life to actually arrive before you can see the effects of what you've learned; in the very act of recognizing opportunity you might otherwise have missed; in the greater range of ideas you can bring to bear on developing opportunity and facing challenge; in the ability to know what is possible and how your world is organized in the sense of what leads to what; in the greater sense of security you have in facing challenge, and so on.

"In these ways, often unexpected, what you have learned here will help give you resilience, equanimity and indeed, even the courage you need to thrive in the world of challenge and opportunity that awaits you."

On behalf of School of Education students, Stephanie Dong and Karen Thompson presented faculty members Aki Murata and Kenji Hakuta with the Teaching Excellence and Advising Excellence awards, respectively. A total of 24 students received doctorates and 184 received master's degrees at the ceremony.

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The text of Edwin Bridges' commencement address follows:

It is an honor and a privilege to be your commencement speaker. After accepting the invitation from Dean Steele, I consulted my oldest and one of my dearest friends. Since he had served as the president of four Canadian universities and the Chairman of the Board for a fifth university, I knew that he had listened to many commencement speeches and delivered a few as well. Over a Guinness one afternoon, I said, “George, what advice could you give me?” He paused, leaned over, and spoke softly and slowly. Here is what he said, “A commencement speaker is like a body at an Irish wake; the organizers need you for the party and don’t expect you to say much.”

I intend to follow my friend’s advice and talk briefly about how my life was changed following a taxi cab ride I took more than 40 years ago. However, before recounting this story, let me preface my remarks with a few details that don’t appear in my bio or curriculum vitae. They provide a context for the important lesson I learned during my taxi cab ride.

Elliott Eisner speaks of career planning as an oxymoron. Others refer to professional careers as a happenstance or just plain luck. They are right as far as I am concerned. To these cogent observations, I would add the words spoken nearly four decades ago by one of my three sons, then six. At the dinner table one evening, my son said, “Dad, when I grow up, I want to be a baseball player. What do you want to be when you grow down?” How prophetic that question was. Since retiring, my height has shrunk two inches, and I am still trying to figure out what I want to do next.

My professional career certainly had a life of its own. As a 16 year old, I walked across the stage at Hannibal High School in Hannibal, MO to receive my high school diploma. Having received first place in the state for a news story I had written for the school newspaper which I edited, I planned to enter the School of Journalism at the University of Missouri and become a reporter. To offset my expenses, I worked one summer in a shoe factory and another summer as a gandy dancer, an occupation immortalized in a song titled, “The Gandy Dancers Ball.” Believe me, it was no ball. During the day we laid railroad tracks in the hot Missouri sun, drove spikes, shoveled gravel, and set railroad ties. At night we slept in box cars on a railroad siding. The closest I came to journalism school was to marry one of its graduates, Marjorie Anne Pollock, who became the reporter in the family. Next month we celebrate our 58th wedding anniversary and a wonderful life together.

Now let me turn briefly to that fateful taxi cab ride and the lesson I learned that had a profound effect on my life. The lesson I learned concerns choices.

Every choice involves a sacrifice, for oneself and for others. That statement is hardly profound; however, its consequences are. Oftentimes, we are so blinded by our wants and desires that we ignore the sacrifices inherent in the choices we make. My work in the shoe factory and later as a gandy dancer led me to appreciate that everyone, regardless of their station in life, has wisdom to share if you bother to listen. Many years ago I flagged a cab in Chicago and began a conversation with the cabby. Here is what he said that influenced my life:

“I wanted a nice home for my family in the city, a summer home on Lake Michigan, and a car for my wife and each of my two children. To afford these, I needed to work two full time jobs. We had the nice home, the summer home on Lake Michigan and cars for everyone in the family. My wife divorced me, and my children would have nothing to do with me. By working two jobs, I got what I wanted, but I lost what I had. What I had was more important to me than what I wanted.”

This cabby, fine man that he was, was so blinded by his desires that he failed to consider the sacrifices for his family and for himself. Sadly in my experience, this is an all too common mistake.

Equally sad, if I had been riding with the same cabby today, I probably would not have learned this valuable lesson. Instead of listening to him, I would have been talking on my cell phone, surfing the internet with my smart phone, texting, or tweeting.

In light of this cabby’s story, let me ask each of you in the audience and on stage two questions:
1.    What are the three or four most important things in your life?
2.    What sacrifices are you unwilling to make no matter what the choice or opportunity is?

These are tougher questions to answer than you might think and even more difficult to act upon. I know from my own experience.

Not too long after the cabby told me his story, I created a mental list of the things in life that meant the most to me. This list exerted a major influence over my choices for the rest of my professional career:
1. My family
2. My students including teaching and advising
3. My research and writing on practical problems, no matter how controversial they were or whether they were valued by members of the academy

With the benefit of hindsight, I should have added a fourth—my own personal health. With all due respect for my former deans, annual reports and faculty meetings did not make my list.

Thanks to that cabby, I can enter the check-out line when my time comes with few regrets. I am not estranged from my four children. My wife and I like, as well as love, each other. I have students who continue to care about me as I continue to care about them. I have several really close friends, the kinds who feel comfortable sharing their innermost thoughts and feelings with each other. Strangely, the more I paid attention to the sacrifices and set aside my desire for professional recognition, the more recognition I received.

At every Irish wake, it is customary to offer a toast to the body. Instead, let me offer a toast to this year’s graduates. May you experience success, enjoy your journey, and end your life with few regrets because you did not let your desires blind you to the important sacrifices inherent in your choices.