HONORS DAY KEYNOTE ADDRESS
by John Anthony Maltese
April 26, 2006

It is an honor to be invited here today to address such a distinguished gathering of students, teachers, administrators, and families. I must say, it is also an honor to be speaking from this great stage, where so many talented musicians have enriched the cultural life of this university. If, by chance, you have not been here before, I urge you to come back to experience what this hall was meant for.

We are here today to recognize outstanding academic achievement by our students and outstanding teaching by our faculty. I came to the University of Georgia in 1989. Over the decade and a half that I’ve been here, I have witnessed rising academic standards among our student body, an increased commitment by the university to reward outstanding teaching, heightened standards for research among our faculty, and the development of wonderful new facilities such as this concert hall and the Student Learning Center.

Indicative of the rising academic standards for our students is a quite remarkable statistic. In 2005, the average SAT score of students who were not admitted to the University of Georgia was roughly comparable to the average SAT score of students who were admitted in 1990.

I mention this, not to diminish in any way the talents and accomplishments of those who came before you, but simply to reinforce the fact that to be among the best and the brightest of such distinguished company is an accomplishment to be recognized and to be proud of. But it also gives you a special responsibility. And, it raises a broader question:

What exactly does it take to be successful student?

Certainly high scores on standardized exams and good grades in classes are significant measures of success. But these, as you well know, are only part of being a successful student.

-- Successful students know that learning does not begin and end in the classroom.

-- Successful students do not treat their academic experience as merely a list of requirements to be checked off and then forgotten, but rather as a series of building blocks that fit together into a coherent whole.

-- Successful students dare to take demanding courses and are ultimately more concerned with what they get out of their educational experience than with the grades that they receive.

-- Successful students are intellectually curious: they explore subjects outside of their primary areas of interest, and take chances by studying things that are new and maybe out of their comfort zone.

 -- Successful students take advantage of the educational and cultural opportunities that exist beyond the classroom -- by attending lectures, and concerts, and plays, and debates, and art exhibits.

-- Successful students meet and interact and learn from and become friends with people whose backgrounds and beliefs and life experiences are different from their own.

-- Successful students engage in friendly, reasoned, and reasonable academic debates – not where people shout at each other, but where people learn from each other.

-- Successful students seek out their teachers for one-on-one advice and discussion.

-- Successful students take advantage of the opportunities to offer public service, engage in extra-curricular activities, and perhaps even learn from internships or seek a global education through study abroad.

It is your accomplishment on these other fronts that really set you apart. And so I challenge you to continue to set an example for the rest of the academic community by being a success in all of these ways.

I was reminded recently that the word “school” is derived from the Greek word for “leisure.” One way to think of “leisure” is to associate it simply with freedom from work, which may conjure up images of playing and partying. But to the Greeks, the word “leisure” was not only descriptive: that is, identifying the actual freedom from labor; but also prescriptive: a word that suggested how one should use that time. For the Greeks, the privilege of being freed from labor provided the opportunities to learn, to improve oneself, and, in the process, to improve one’s community. Don’t take that opportunity for granted. Don’t forget what a privilege your educational experience is, what life-long rewards if offers, and how much some people have sacrificed in order to attain it.

I see many proud parents here today, who have sacrificed in countless ways for their children. Among those proud parents – at the risk of embarrassing him – is my father. He knows what a privilege education is because he has led the American Dream. He was born in a small village in southern Italy where education was all but unheard of. Six and seven year old children were expected to go out and work – often performing hard labor for long hours. My father’s oldest brother decided at an early age that he wanted something better for his children, and so he came to the United States, alone, at the age of 17, willing to trade his labor so that someday his children would have the leisure to receive an education. Not speaking a word of English, he labored as a shoe-shine boy and shoe repairman in New York City and earned enough money to bring – one by one – his brothers and sisters and eventually his parents to this country.

That’s how my father got here. He could not speak English when he entered public school. But that school became a haven for him, a place that opened new worlds to him and that instilled a lifelong love of learning. He still talks of the teachers that he had and of the impact that they had on his life.

My father was the first in his family to graduate from high school. He went on to college, fought for his adopted country in World War II, obtained a graduate degree and became a teacher. As a college and university professor he influenced generations of students, many of whom still keep in touch with him. One, who studied with him as a freshman at Wheaton College in 1953, drove many miles to visit him last summer. I was there, too, and he told me what a powerful influence my father had on his life and career. I’ve witnessed that kind of devotion many times from his former students, and it is what made me want to become a teacher. It is because of my father’s sacrifice and example that I am here today.

The GI Bill allowed my father to finish his college degree and go to graduate school – things that he otherwise would have struggled to afford. Despite the many opportunities that you have – in the form of the Hope Scholarship, for example – we must do more to create need-based scholarships, not only for enrollment in the University of Georgia, but to help those – once admitted – to take advantage of opportunities like study abroad that they could not otherwise afford. I commend those who have already contributed to such scholarships, and challenge others to follow in their footsteps.

We are also here today to honor outstanding teaching. I have read about and heard about and met and know many of the teachers being honored here today. It has been said that one of the most important things about education is not so much that students be taught, but that students be given the desire to learn. These teachers, along with countless others across this university, have gone to extraordinary lengths to do just that: to instill a love of learning among their students. For all of these teachers, learning is more than a classroom experience; it is the creation of an intellectual climate that fosters a lifelong love of the pursuit of wisdom.

Perhaps I shouldn’t say this in front of all these administrators, but Socrates said that teaching is such an honorable profession that one should not be paid to do it. If it’s any consolation to Socrates, we are not paid much. Anyone who goes into teaching at any level does not do it for the money. We do it for far greater riches: chief among those are the rewards of influencing our students. I cannot imagine a better form of payment, or a better measure of success, than having a student – as my father did last summer – travel many miles, 52 years after the fact to say: you changed my life. I am a better person because of you. Don’t think, by the way, that you have to wait 52 years – though I’ll be very happy if in 2041, someone I taught in 1989 seeks me out.

In closing, let me say again that the type of future you build is based in no small measure on what you make of your education. Be a successful student, thank your parents for the sacrifices they made so that you could be where you are today, and seek out teachers who have changed your life and let them know that they made a difference.

Thank you very much for your time.