Contribute to Other People’s Happiness, Find the True Meaning of Life
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Lloyd LaCuesta (Source: University of San Francisco)
I am humbled and honored to be here. Today is truly a wonderful day.
Four years of a college education is difficult enough, but you the class of 2024 are the Covid children. For many of you, this will be the first time you walked in cap and gown. Covid protocols prevented the traditional ritual of marching to receive a high school diploma.
But you are the brave students who decided pandemic or not, you were getting a college degree.
And your pursuit of higher education meant initially learning remotely and in isolation. Testing was more than just for a grade, but also to find out if you were positive or negative. Feelings of anxiety and lack of focus were hidden behind a mask. But you persevered. You overcame with strength and determination to succeed.
This glorious day is your time to celebrate; so, go ahead. I know we are in a house of worship, but it is also a place of joy; so please express your happiness.
And if you will, pause for a moment and remember those whom you may have lost during the pandemic, and now thank those who supported and enabled you to reach your goal.
The national hero of the Philippines Dr. Jose Rizal once said, “He who does not know how to look back at where he came from will never get to his destination.” So never forget how far you’ve come to be here today.
Now you may be asking, who is this O-G pontificating and delivering your commencement speech. I will tell you that I’m in awe of standing at this pulpit where some very famous people with great minds have appeared. I am not one of them. I’m just someone who lived out his dream to become a news reporter, nothing more, nothing less.
When I asked President Fitzgerald why me? He said, “I grew up watching you” on Bay Area television. Well Father, you’re in select company. A young lady, who once walked up to me in a Safeway said, “Oh, you’re Lloyd Lacuesta. I know your name but not much about you, but my grandmother says she’s a big fan.”
As I stand before you, I am an example of “anything is possible” in this still, and always will be, great country.
I am the son of a Filipino immigrant father who as a 14-year-old toiled in the sugar and pineapple plantations of Hawaii. I am the son of a Filipino immigrant mother who came to Hawaii as a five-year-old and grew up to become a nurse.
One night as a reporter, I was at the White House waiting to shout out questions at the President of the United States. I looked up at the night sky as the President’s helicopter was landing and said to myself Thank you Mom and Dad. Not bad for the son of immigrant laborers.
And now my parents from above thank the University of San Francisco. They always wanted a doctor in the family.
I will tell you as the first in my family to earn a college degree, I know what you graduates are feeling. The musical artist known as H.E.R. sang in one of her songs, “It’s the journey. It’s the getting there to where you’re going.”
Fifty-five years ago, I was standing in cap and gown with a diploma and so scared about what the future held. Be confident that this university gave you the skills to start your next chapter, and every decision made will be another lesson learned.
You learn by listening to the ancestors who came before you. Hear the words of Queen Liliuokalani, the last monarch of the Kingdom of Hawaii.
She said, “Never cease to act because you fear you may fail. The true secret is to know your own worth. It will carry you through many dangers.”
I believe anything is possible. You can make a difference. Follow your dreams.
A man wiser than I who once spoke in this very church is his Holiness, the Dalai Lama, the exiled political and spiritual leader of Tibet. He said, “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.”
Let me share a story about how I once made a difference. One night several years ago, I was in front of Stanford Hospital, reporting live about a family holding a vigil. The family’s patriarch was dying. He needed a new heart, and the family issued an appeal. In my report, I pulled out my driver’s license with its pink dot indicating that I am an organ donor. I said it is a gift of life.
A few weeks later, I was in my office when a call came in. A woman said, I want to ask you about a story you did. I replied, “I do a lot of stories, ma’am.”
She said, “It was recent, about a family holding a vigil. I was watching that night and a few hours later, my daughter was involved in a terrible accident and declared brain dead. In my deepest grief, I remembered what you said and called Stanford Hospital and donated her heart and lungs.”
I was stunned and all I could say was, “Can I interview you?” She said, “No, I don’t want you to even know my name. But I want you to know that I heard you that night, and I acted.” Then she hung up.
That one incident has since always influenced my journalism. That my words, if they reach even just one person, can move them to take actions as consequential as saving a life.
You too, by earning a college degree have become someone others can look up to. Whether you want it or not. You are now role models and you inspire achievement. This applies to both our professional and personal lives as well. My professional life as a journalist was spent asking questions. But in my personal life I failed to ask and answer the right questions.
“It’s never too late to correct a wrong turn in our life’s journeys. But, it’s so easy to get caught up in a career and not see or maybe refuse to see the true directions of the paths we chose to follow.”
Lloyd LaCuesta, being conferred his honorary doctorate (Source: University of San Francisco)
Here’s another story.
When my daughter was turning 21, she was attending school in Seattle. It was a single, divorced dad who called her to say, “Hey meet me in Hawaii? I’ll pay for airfare, hotel, and dinner, you can buy the drinks.” She replied, “What are you saying, Dad?” I said, “Well you’ll be an adult, legal.” She retorted, “I already do that Dad. I have a fake license.”
I said, “Just meet me in Kauai.” A few nights later, we’re having a beautiful sunset dinner, and she says, “You know Dad, when I was a little girl, I used to talk to the TV.”
I said what are you talking about? “Well,” she said, “you were always somewhere covering a story, attending a meeting, giving a talk. But I knew every night at 10:00 you would be on TV and when I saw your face, I would say ‘Hi, Dad” and I hoped you might answer back.” I was hit with the truth.
For all the famous people and historic events I had covered, whatever the awards I had received, I had not always been there for my little girl.
My daughter saw the look on my face. She reached out and held my hand and said, “That’s okay, Dad, we’re making up for it now.”
It’s never too late to correct a wrong turn in our life’s journeys. But, it’s so easy to get caught up in a career and not see or maybe refuse to see the true directions of the paths we chose to follow.
I’m now grandpa to my daughter’s two children and trying to make up for the mistakes I made as an absent dad.
I believe it is important that you have the right people around you to give you balance. People who will support and truthfully critique you. Do not be afraid to ask for help.
I’m blessed that I have a wife, who by example stresses helping the less fortunate. She taught me that when you give, your own life becomes richer. Have purpose, have a moral code, help others.
From the Dalai Lama again:
“We must try to do something good, something useful with our lives. If you contribute to other people’s happiness you will find the true meaning of life.”
To the class of 2024, go forth with peace and compassion. And make a difference.
Thank you and Aloha oe.
To watch the speech:
Lloyd LaCuesta is a retired broadcast journalist and retired university and college journalism professor. The University of San Francisco awarded him an honorary doctorate.
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