原编者按

耶鲁大学校长苏必德(Peter Salovey)在2018届毕业典礼上发表了题为Drawing a Larger Circle的演讲。在发言中校长以优秀毕业生为榜样，勉励学生拓展生活圈，倾听不同的声音。

耶鲁大学（Yale University）坐落于美国康涅狄格州纽黑文，是世界著名私立研究型大学，最初由康涅狄格州公理会教友于1701年创立，1716年迁至康涅狄格州的纽黑文（New Haven）。耶鲁大学是美国东北部老牌名校联盟“常青藤联盟（Ivy League）”的成员，也是八所常春藤盟校中最重视本科教育的大学之一。

现场视频

2018届的毕业生们，家长们和朋友们，很高兴与大家共同见证这个特别的日子。今天是喜悦的一天，未来则充满希望。现在，我将履行耶鲁大学光荣的传统：

请在座的所有家长和朋友们起立，向我们2018届优秀的毕业生们致意；也请在座的2018届学子们起立，向所有成就你们达成今日里程碑的人们致敬。谢谢大家！

人们总是倾向于制定大量的计划。有些是实用性的计划，比如订航班，租房子，思考毕业后在哪里生活、工作或学习。还有一些是远大的抱负，展望未来的生活，以及未来几年筹划构筑的事业等。

我想分享的是Pauli Murray在1945年所写的关于她的志向。那时，她还是一位年轻的律师和民权活动家。

“我要通过积极和包容的方式打破隔离，”Murray写道。“当我的兄弟们试图画一个圈把我排除在外时，我会画一个更大的圈来包容他们。他们为小团体的特权发言，而我为全人类争取权利。”

所以今天我想问你们：你会画多大的圈呢？

你会画一个兼容并包、充满活力的圈？还是拉帮结派的团团伙伙？

要实现兼容并包很难，但未来的回报巨大。

当你们即将离开校园时，我建议你们可以仿照Pauli Murray以及其他许多耶鲁毕业生的例子。首先，要确保你画的圈足够大。

如今的世界，你可以在Twitter上拥有700位粉丝，也可以在Facebook上交1000位好友。看起来拥有一个很大的圈并不是一件难事。但如果你所谓的“朋友”都在分享相同的故事、类似的观点，那么你的世界可能很窄。然而，一场与现实生活中6个朋友的谈话可能会获得更加丰富的想法和观点。

我在耶鲁大学的这些年，我很荣幸能够认识世界上最聪明的头脑。我也了解到最伟大的学者们所画出的那些很大的圈。他们博览群书，也对自己研究范围之外的想法颇感兴趣。

Robert Dahl是一位曾在耶鲁大学任教四十年之久的政治学教授。因其在民主和民主制度研究中的权威，Dahl教授可谓是同时代最受尊敬的政治学家之一，也是一位深受喜爱的导师。

2014年，98岁高龄的Dahl去世，他曾教过的学生纷纷表达对他的哀思。一位名为Jeffrey Isaac的学生回忆道，尽管他非常喜欢Dahl教授的课，但他强烈反对Dahl教授的一些论点。Isaac还发表论文驳斥Dahl的理论。然而令他惊讶的是，系里最支持他的老师竟然是Dahl教授本人！Dahl教授还同意担任他的论文导师。

Isaac写道：“Dahl教授花费了数不尽的时间在他的办公室里和我讨论论文主要论点，以及我要驳斥的人——他自己！我们客观地讨论‘Dahl’这个人和他论点的局限性，并猜测‘Dahl’会如何回应我的论点。”

Dahl教授欢迎他的批评者并且倾听他们的意见，与他们展开交流。这是一种开放且积极的研究精神和教学模式，是耶鲁所追求的终极目标。

这样的情况也出现在校园之外。气候变化、贫困、动荡和暴力是我们社会所面临的最大挑战。这需要创新和创造性的解决方案。然而，政治分化令这些问题比以往更加难处理。我们需要与不同政见者交谈，尽管我们并不同意他们的观点。

我们或许可以效仿Dahl教授以及许多其他智慧、通达的思想者，画一个够大的圈，并不断填充人类的认知。

我的第二条建议是：尽你所能画更多的圈。

其中一个圈是你的工作。你不仅要确保你喜欢它，还要确保它不是你生活中仅有的圈。

我们知道，幸福的源泉之一是培养工作之外的激情和专业。与他人分享这种激情能给我们带来了极大的喜悦，还能将我们与其他圈子的朋友和同事连接在一起，而这些人可能与我们平时遇到的人迥然不同。

许多人知道，我对阿巴拉契亚山脉地区的音乐甚为喜爱。我对传统乡村音乐和蓝草音乐的热爱，能牵引我至弗吉尼亚西南部和肯塔基州东部等地，担任国际蓝草音乐博物馆的董事，并且能和蓝草音乐教授一起演奏贝斯达30年。

这让我在夏季蓝草音乐节期间能与陌生人尽情分享音乐和故事。最重要的是，对音乐的热爱让我建立超出我成长的故乡、学校和我所从事的心理学专业的友谊圈。

我为能够成为一名心理学家而自豪。我的学科也提供许多实证支撑我的个人经历发展。

Patricia Linville是一位社会心理学家。她的研究集中在人们的自我认知，以及这些自我认知的影响。当完成她所称之为“自我复杂性”的研究期间，她曾是我在耶鲁的老师。目前，她任教于杜克大学。

根据Linville教授的说法，“自我复杂性”是一个更大的概念，指一个个人的多面性。换句话而言，这个个体画了很多圈。

比如，一个女人可以视自己为学生、马拉松选手、戏剧爱好者、纽约客杂志读者，以及我们刚才提到的蓝草乐队中的贝斯手。她可能比那些只视自己为律师的人有更大的自我复杂性。

Linville教授在她的研究中发现，更大的自我复杂性可以作为消极经历的“缓冲器”。如果你全靠工作定义你自己，那么当你没得到升职时，或许会对你的自我价值认知造成深重的打击。Linville教授将其称为“把所有的鸡蛋放在同一个认知的篮子里”。

而像我刚才提到的跑马拉松的吉他手，在遇到挫折后可能恢复得更快。Linville教授甚至发现，自我复杂性更大的大学生患有抑郁等精神疾病的比例更低。

最后，我想提出一个扩大圈子的重要途径——结识更多人并与之互动。

在这里我想提及的仍是Pauli Murray。

Murray上千封的信件折射出的是她丰富的生活。在耶鲁大学法学院学习期间，Pauli Murray收到了一份来自耶鲁1936届校友William S. Beinecke的信。现在这个名字或许听起来很熟悉。贝尼克珍本与手稿图书馆就是以William的父亲和两个叔叔命名的，而耶鲁的许多项目也从这个家族的慈善事业中受益。

上个月，Bill Beinecke去世，享年104岁。1963年致信给Murray时，他是Sperry and Hutchison公司的董事长。这是一家由其祖父创立的美国企业，你们的父母或祖父母可能还记得S & H发行的绿色邮票。Beinecke曾是这家美国企业的领导者，也是一位富有且强大的人。

他在耶鲁的一次活动上遇到Pauli Murray。在那次会议后不久，他给她写了一封信，询问她关于他在《时代》杂志上刊登的关于美国种族关系文章的看法。

Pauli Murray回复了。几周后，他再次发给她了一篇学校融合的文章，并询问她的意见。她又给他回了信。这封四页纸、单行距的回信被Murray称为“不可估量的种族问题”。他们的通信持续了几个星期。双方观点都很有趣且坦率。

Beinecke和Murray，这两位耶鲁传统的典范，尽管在性别、家庭背景、种族、阶级等诸多方面存在差异，但他们仍能保持对话。

我们不知道他们是否完全同意彼此。但可以想见的是，他们从交流中获益良多。这完全是因为两个人决定超越他们日常的圈子。

Beinecke决定给Murray写信绝非一时头脑发热。上世纪50年代，Beinecke参加了耶鲁法学院一场有关美国种族关系的讨论。不久之后，他决定参与Sperry and Hutchinson的招聘。他了解到职业介绍所在向他们推荐人时完全剔除了非洲裔美国人。Beinecke决定终止这一做法。

Beinecke也支持为来自底层高中的学生提供奖学金，并在耶鲁法学院为有色人种设立奖学金。在开展这项工作的过程中，他遇到了Murray并开始了他们的通信，希望能够弥合两人的经历鸿沟。

Bill Beinecke的生活由许多不同的圈子组成。他领导改善纽约中央公园，支持环保事业，热衷高尔夫运动。他也是耶鲁及其学生兴趣的积极倡导者。

那么，在年轻的Pauli Murray承诺在她的生命中画一个更大的圈之后发生了什么？在她最后一次致信给Bill Beinecke的一个月后，她组织并参与了那场著名的华盛顿游行。当取得耶鲁法学博士学位后，她起草了一份有影响力的法律备忘录，帮助确保在1964年的《民权法案》中纳入基于性别的保护。

Murray的他生活圈还延展至诗歌和教学67岁时，她成为第一位被任命为圣公会牧师的非裔美国妇女，继续她的一生都在致力的和解与理解。

扩大我们的圈子并非易事。这当然需要勇气，也需要对生活的想象力和好奇心。它拒绝恐惧和怀疑，要求我们互相倾听，量度人性的边界。

正是由于Pauli Murray和Bill Beinecke都画了很多很大的圈，才使他们的生活相交。我希望你们也可以如此，尽可能画许多圈，并且让它们足够大。你会发现生活更加丰富、充实、有意义。你将为世界带来我们亟需的同情和理解。

2018届的毕业生们（请起立）：

现在整个世界在你们面前，请你们携手慢移流浪的脚步，向世界带去你在耶鲁教育中获得的一切：虚心聆听，批判地参与，创造性地应对挑战和难关，在寻求幸福的同时接受你的责任，画一个更广阔的圈包容和理解这个世界。

我们很荣幸见证了这一刻，并为你们的成绩感到骄傲。请记得向所有成就你们走到今日的人表达谢意。请带着感恩的心从这里出发，依靠你们的思想、声音和双手改善你们新的社区和世界，这将是你们对母校最好的回赠。

2018届全体毕业生，祝贺你们！

演讲原文（英文）

Drawing a Larger Circle

Graduates of the Class of 2018, family members, and friends. It is a pleasure to be here with you today, a day filled with joy for the present and hope for the future.

There is a wonderful Yale tradition that I would like to honor right now:

May I ask all of the families and friends here today to rise and recognize the outstanding—and graduating—members of the Class of 2018?

And now, may I ask the Class of 2018 to consider all those who have supported yourarrival at this milestone, and to please rise and recognize them?

Thank you!

These are the months and years when people tend to make a lot of plans. Some are practical: you schedule flights and rent apartments and consider where you will live, work, or study after graduation. Others are more aspirational: you imagine your future life and what you wish to accomplish in the years ahead.

I want to begin by sharing a passage Pauli Murray wrote in 1945 about her aspirations. At the time, she was a young lawyer and civil rights activist.

“I intend to destroy segregation by positive and embracing methods,” Murray wrote. “When my brothers try to draw a circle to exclude me, I shall draw a larger circle to include them. Where they speak out for the privileges of a puny group, I shall shout for the rights of all mankind.”[1]

So today I ask you: How large will you draw your circle?

Will you draw a circle that is large, inclusive, and vibrant? Or will it be small, “puny,” and privileged?

The work of inclusion is difficult, but the rewards are great.

Let me suggest ways you might follow the example of Pauli Murray—and many other Yale graduates—when you leave this campus.

First, make sure your circles are truly large.

In today’s world, where you can have 700 followers on Twitter and a thousand friends on Facebook, it may seem easy to have a large circle. But if you’re bombarded with the same stories, memes, and opinions from all your so-called friends, then your world may in fact be quite narrow. A conversation with six friends in real life actually may lead to a greater variety of ideas and perspectives.

In my years at Yale, I have been privileged to know some of the most brilliant minds in the world. I have learned that the greatest scholars draw large circles. They read widely and are interested in ideas well beyond the scope of their own research and beliefs.

Robert Dahl, who was a Sterling Professor of Political Science, taught at Yale for forty years. One of the most respected political scientists of his generation, Professor Dahl was an authority on democracy and democratic institutions. And he was a beloved teacher and mentor.

After his death in 2014 at the age of 98, tributes from his former students poured in. One of his graduate students, Jeffrey Isaac, recalled how he vehemently disagreed with some of Dahl’s arguments, even though he loved taking his classes. For his dissertation, Isaac proposed writing a critique of Dahl’s theories. Much to his surprise, the most enthusiastic and supportive faculty member in the department was Dahl himself! He agreed to supervise the dissertation.

Isaac wrote, “Bob Dahl spent countless hours in his office talking with me about my principal theoretical antagonist—him! We would discuss this guy ‘Dahl’ in the third person, considering the limits of his arguments, speculating about how he might respond to my arguments.”[2]

Professor Dahl embraced his critics, listened to them, and conversed with them, a model of open and engaged scholarship and teaching—the best we can aspire to at Yale.

The lesson extends beyond our campus. Our greatest challenges as a society—climate change, poverty, insecurity, and violence—demand innovative and creative solutions. Yet political polarization is making it more difficult than ever to solve these problems. We must be able to talk with our opponents even though we disagree with them.

We might start by emulating Professor Dahl—and so many other wise and generous thinkers who have drawn large circles and so added to the sum of human understanding.

My second piece of advice—and here I am taking some liberties with the metaphor—is to draw as many circles as you can.

One circle will be your work. Make sure you enjoy it, but make sure you have other circles as well.

We know one of the keys to happiness is developing a passion—even an expertise—outside of work. Sharing that passion with others gives us great joy, and it connects us to other circles of friends and associates who might be very different from the ones we would meet otherwise.

As many of you are aware, I am quite passionate about music from the Appalachian Mountain region. My love of traditional country and bluegrass music has allowed me to visit places such as southwest Virginia and eastern Kentucky, to chair the board of the International Bluegrass Music Museum, and to play bass—for thirty years now—with the Professors of Bluegrass. It enables me to share stories and songs with perfect strangers at summertime bluegrass festivals. Most significantly, though, it has led to circles of friendship beyond the towns in which I grew up, beyond the universities I attended, and beyond my profession of psychology.

I am proud, of course, to be a psychologist, and my discipline does in fact provide some empirical evidence to support my personal experience.

Patricia Linville is a social psychologist who studies how people think of themselves and how these self-perceptions influence well-being. She is now at Duke, but she was my teacher here at Yale when she completed several studies of what she terms “self-complexity.”

Greater “self-complexity,” according to Linville, means a person has a variety of aspects to his or her self. In other words, he or she draws many circles. For example, a woman who thinks of herself as a student, a marathon runner, a theater-goer, a reader of the New Yorker magazine, and—let’s say—a bass player in a bluegrass band would demonstrate greater self-complexity than someone who thinks of himself only as a lawyer.

Professor Linville, in her research, found that greater self-complexity acts as a “buffer” against negative experiences. For example, if you define yourself almost entirely in terms of your job, getting passed over for a promotion might be devastating for your sense of self-worth. Linville calls this “putting all your eggs in one cognitive basket.” People such as our marathon-running bass player, on the other hand, bounce back more quickly after a setback. Linville even found that college students with greater self-complexity were less likely to get sick or experience depression or stress.[3]

Third and finally, let me suggest one important way we can expand our circles—by reaching out and engaging with others.

Here I would like to turn again to Pauli Murray and one of her more surprising relationships.

Murray’s papers contain thousands of letters—a reflection of a full life, animated by many interests, commitments, and relationships. A life of many circles.

During her time at Yale Law School, Murray received a letter from William S. Beinecke, a member of the Yale College Class of 1936. Now the name will sound familiar to everyone here. The Beinecke Rare Book & Manu Library is named for William’s father and two uncles, and many other programs and places at Yale have benefited from the family’s remarkable philanthropy.

Bill Beinecke passed away just last month; he was nearly 104 years old. In 1963 when he wrote Murray, he was chairman of the Sperry and Hutchison Company, a venerable American company founded by his grandfather. (Your parents and grandparents probably remember S&H Green Stamps.) Beinecke was a leader in corporate America and a wealthy and powerful man.

He had met Murray at an event at Yale, and not long after that meeting, he wrote her a letter. He enclosed a clipping from Time magazine about race relations in the United States and asked what she thought.

Murray responded. A few weeks later he sent her another article and asked her opinion again, this time about school integration. She wrote back. At one point, Murray wrote Beinecke a four-page, single-spaced, typed letter on what she called the “imponderables on the issue of race.” Their correspondence continued for several weeks, with interesting and frank letters on both sides.

Beinecke and Murray—both exemplars of the Yale tradition—were able to sustain a conversation despite differences in gender, family background, race, class, and more. We don’t know whether or not they entirely agreed with one another, but we can imagine they learned a lot from the exchange. All because two individuals decided to reach beyond their normal circles.[4]

Beinecke’s decision to write Murray did not take place in a vacuum. In the 1950s, he attended a discussion at Yale Law School on the topic of American race relations. Not long after, he decided to look into Sperry and Hutchinson’s hiring practices. He learned that the employment agency vetting applicants for his company was screening out African Americans, removing them from the pool before their applications ever reached Sperry & Hutchinson. Beinecke ended the practice.

He also supported scholarships for underprivileged high school students and established a fellowship for students of color at Yale Law School. It was in the course of this work that he met Murray and initiated their correspondence, hoping to bridge the gulf that separated his experience from hers.[5]

Bill Beinecke’s life was made up of many different circles. He led efforts to improve New York’s Central Park, he supported environmental causes, he was dedicated to the game of golf, and he remained an ardent champion of Yale and its students, among other interests.

And what about Pauli Murray, who as a young person promised to “draw a larger circle” in her life? One month after writing her last letter to Bill Beinecke, she participated in the historic March on Washington, which she helped organize. While finishing her doctor of jurisprudence degree here at Yale, she drafted an influential legal memo, helping to ensure that “sex” was included in the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Murray’s other circles included writing poetry and teaching. At the age of 67, she became the first African-American woman ordained as an Episcopal priest, continuing her lifelong commitment to reconciliation and understanding.

Enlarging our circles is far from easy. It requires courage, surely, but also imagination and curiosity about our fellow human beings. It rejects fear and suspicion. It demands that we listen to one another. It measures the limits of our humanity.

Both Pauli Murray and Bill Beinecke drew such large circles—and so many circles—that their lives intersected. I urge you to do the same. Draw many circles; make them large in all kinds of ways. You will find life richer, fuller, and more meaningful, and you will bring to the world the empathy and understanding we so desperately need.

Members of the Class of 2018 (please rise):

As you go out on to a “world [that is] all before [you] . . . hand in hand with wandering steps and slow,”[6] bring to that world all that your Yale education has given you: the ability to engage critically even while listening respectfully, to respond creatively to challenges and obstacles; to embrace your responsibilities while finding happiness, and to draw ever wider the circle of belonging and understanding in this world.

We are delighted to salute your accomplishments, and we are proud of your achievements. Remember to give thanks for all that has brought you to this day. And go forth from this place with grateful hearts, paying back the gifts you have received here by using your minds, voices, and hands to strengthen your new communities and your world.

Congratulations, Class of 2018!

[1] Murray, P. (1945). An American Credo. Common Ground 5(2), 24.

[2] Isaac, J. (2014, February 11). Robert Dahl as mentor. Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/monkey-cage/wp/2014/02/11/robert-dahl-as-mentor/?utm_term=.e19c870c221c

[3] Linville, P.W. (1985). Self-complexity and affective extremity: Don’t put all your eggs in one cognitive basket. Social Cognition, 3, 94-120.

[4] Pauli Murray Papers, Schlesinger Library, Harvard University.

[5] Beinecke, W. S., & Kabaservice, G. M. (2000). Through Mem’ry’s Haze: A Personal Memoir. New York: Prospect Hill Press, 417-421.

[6] This quotation is from John Milton’s Paradise Lost, a favorite passage of mine to read on Commencement weekend at Yale: “Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide; They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.”

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