DISTRICT ATTORNEY DANIEL F. CONLEY COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS SAVIO PREPARATORY SCHOOL Thursday, May 30, 2002 Thank you, Father Parks, Savio administrators and teachers, members of the Class of 2002, parents, grandparents, and other family and friends. It is a pleasure for me to be with you tonight for this celebration of accomplishment. Savio Prep is a school with a well-deserved reputation for excellence, a school where you so diligently and devoutly follow the shining examples of your namesake, Dominic Savio, the youngest saint, and his kind teacher, Saint John Bosco. It is an honor to stand here tonight and be a small part of this tradition - and what a spirited tradition it is! I could feel it in my bones the moment I entered the school tonight, and I've been wanting to shout out "Go Spartans" ever since. Actually, this is not the first commencement speech I've ever delivered. I once spoke to the graduating class of the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Elementary School in Hyde Park, where my son is a student. It went well, although I think the boys would have rather heard from Nomar Garciaparra, and the girls would have rather heard from the guys in N'Sync. So I'm hoping this audience tonight will not hold my limited athletic or singing ability against me. Telling you that reminds me of a story that Mario Cuomo, the great former governor of New York, used to tell. Governor Cuomo said the best advice he'd ever heard about how to give a commencement speech came from Father Flynn, the president of Cuomo's alma mater, St. John's University in New York. "Commencement speakers," Father Flynn told the governor, "should think of themselves as the body at an old-fashioned Irish wake. They need you in order to have the party, but nobody expects you to say very much." That's advice I intend to remember tonight. There are, for me, two reasons that make Savio Prep a special school. The first is that it provides a first-rate Catholic education, something that I consider quite valuable in today's world. Of course I'm biased, being a product of Catholic education myself: St. Anne School in Readville; Catholic Memorial High School, Class of 1976; and Stonehill College, Class of 1980. I know first hand that in a Catholic school, in addition to a rigorous academic curriculum, students are also instructed in the indispensable values of the Christian faith. In a Catholic school, the Golden Rule is as important as the Pythagorean theorem, the Sermon on the Mount as important as the Monroe Doctrine, and in a world beset with so many social problems, the moral underpinnings of such an education, and the hope it promises for the future, is a comfort to me. The other thing that makes Savio a special place is the esteem in which it is held by the communities it serves. Those of us in public life often talk about how one person, or a small group of people, can make a difference for the better. But the supporters of Savio went beyond words, and got results. In 1993, when Saint Dominic Savio High School looked like it was going to close, a group of dedicated alumni, staff members, parents and students said, "No Way." The community rallied, a board of directors was established, and St. Dominic Savio was reincarnated as Savio Preparatory High School. A few years later the Salesian Fathers, the founders of this school 40 years earlier, were invited to return as administrators of this superb educational and ministerial institution. To those of you who saved Savio nearly a decade ago, thank you. You are an inspiration, proof that hope exists, all things are possible, and there is nothing more powerful than a group of people who care enough to fight for what is important to them. Before I direct a few words specifically to the graduates and their parents, I thought it important to speak very briefly about the problems the Catholic Church is currently facing. As you know, as District Attorney, I am the chief law enforcement officer in Suffolk County, and my office is investigating the scores of allegations of sexual abuse by members of the clergy. We take no personal joy in this work. But it is work that is just, work that we must do, and it is guided by one sole principle, the very same principle that guides our work in any case, in any crime, whomever the perpetrator. That principle is this: to seek justice for victims with compassion and sensitivity, and to hold those who committed the crime accountable. As a Catholic man, I am saddened to see my church connected with such horrific allegations. As a parent, I am angered that those in power did not do nearly enough to stop abusers in the ranks of the clergy. As district attorney, I am committed to prosecuting anyone - priest, plumber, cab driver, anyone - who abuses children. But my disgust with the actions of these predators, and my disappointment with church leaders who repeatedly put them in positions where they could harm children, has not caused me to question my faith, and I hope it has not caused you to question yours. I am saddened when I read headlines that say fewer people are going to Mass, or that people plan to stop giving money to the church. For those of us who care about the future of the Catholic Church, those extreme measures are the wrong things to do. It should go without saying, particularly to this audience, that for the handful of priests who ever abused a child, there are countless others who have truly embraced God's work with devotion and compassion. For the handful of priests who turned their backs to the abused, there are countless others who live lives of humble piety, ministering to the poor, the sick, the weak, the oppressed. For the handful of priests who ignored their moral and spiritual responsibilities, there are countless others who in their words and in their deeds spread Christ's teachings of love and redemption to the far corners of the globe. They get no headlines. They are anonymous, except to the families they help, the children they teach, the sick they comfort. These priests - and all of us -- are the true Church. Do not let your faith be shaken. Leave the predators to me and we will make sure they get the punishment they deserve. What you must do is support all the good the church does. You don't have to look very far to see the result of those good works. Look around you. Look at these young graduates, with their whole lives ahead of them, the future limited only by their imaginations. This Christian preparation they have received at Savio Prep is what the Church is about. But no matter how good the school, they could not have made it to this point tonight without the most important people in their lives. They may not admit it, but that means you, their parents. Parenthood. It's the hardest job there is, and the most important. My two children are little bit younger than the graduates here tonight, but I think I can guess what you parents have gone through the last four years (and I'm resigned to the fact that this awaits me, too…) I can hear you now. "Be home by eleven," you'd say. "Twelve," your child would answer. Who ever said this was negotiable, anyway? "Where are you going?" you'd ask. The answer would be succinct, if not specific: "Out." "Who's going with you?" "Just some guys." Or "some girls," as the case may be. And then once they're out, I can see you, looking at the clock as the hour gets late, wondering if they are in a car, wondering if anyone is drinking, hoping that the years of guidance and nurturing you have provided will translate into their making the right choices when they're out of your sight. That doesn't even begin to take into account your worries over their school work, the taxi service you had to run to get them back and forth to practices, dances, the movies, the mall, the daily skirmishes over everything from homework to boyfriends to clothes. I'm lucky. By the time my kids get to high school, I think my hair will be completely gray already. But I'm sure some of you picked up some new gray hairs these last four years. But I know you will agree with me when, as you look at these young men and women in their caps and gowns tonight, I say that it was all worth it. As your children stand tonight on the threshold of adulthood, I commend all of you parents for all your worrying, all your concern, all the lessons you have taught these fine graduates. I'm sure someday they'll commend you for it, too, but I don't think you should have to wait that long. Kids, when you get home tonight as freshly-minted graduates of the Class of 2002, before you run out to a party to see friends, please take a moment to say "thank you" to your parents. And then tell them where you're going, who you'll be with, and what time you plan to be home. I wish to commend, also, these graduates sitting before me. I know how hard you have worked, and I think the fact that you have reached this point tonight, the fact that you have successfully climbed this hilltop, is due in large part to the many good decisions you have made over the last four years. You chose your friends, you chose to study, you chose your activities, you chose to stay out of serious trouble. But tonight is just a gateway to a whole new world of choices. I've thought long and hard about what advice I could give you as you embark on your journeys into that new world. Twenty years from now, you probably won't even remember who spoke at your high school graduation, but I hope that the memories, and the lessons, of your high school years, stay with you for the rest of your lives. I've come up with three phrases. None of them particularly groundbreaking or poetic, but they constitute just about the most important advice I could think of. The first two sum up how to get where you want to be in life. And the third suggests how best to live when you get there: "Think Big." "Work Hard." "Give Back." Dream big. Very little that is good in life happens by accident. You need a blueprint, a plan. What do you want to do in life, what do you want to be? No one is going to come along and plan your course for you, nor should they. You've got to get yourself wherever it is you're going. And since you're going to go through all that trouble anyway, why not make sure it's a goal that's worth attaining. Think big. Do not put limits on yourself. Try. Yearn. Reach. Strive. If you fail, you fail, but at least you fail gloriously, and then you pick yourself up the better for having reached and failed, and you try again. Not long after I became the DA, I was visiting a courthouse in Boston and the judge who was presiding was a man named Jim Coffey. We had worked together in the DA's office years before as young prosecutors. When Judge Coffey saw me come in, he called a brief recess and called me up to the bench. He said, "Hey Dan, remember when we were just starting out, I used to say that someday I was going to be a judge and you used to say someday you'd be the DA? Who would have thought it would come true." But the truth was, we did think it would come true, even if we only told those dreams to each other. Even when we were rookie prosecutors, we were laying the groundwork - in our minds if nowhere else - for the paths we wanted our lives to take. You don't get anywhere without planning, so you might as well plan big. Then work hard to make your plan come true. When I say "work hard," I don't mean work hard enough to get by. And I certainly don't mean "work hard" at the expense of others. Anyone can put in enough work to get the C-plus or the B-minus. Anyone can put in enough work to get some playing time. Anyone can prepare well enough to do okay in the job interview. But that's not enough. Work hard enough to get the "A." Work hard enough to make the starting lineup. Work hard enough to get the job. And work hard enough and fair enough to earn the respect of your peers. When you are working toward something worthwhile, go beyond the point when you say to yourself, "I am working hard." Go far beyond it. Because trust me, if you're not going beyond that point, the next guy might be, and he'll be the one who gets the job, earns the "A," makes the starting lineup. Once you identify your dreams, and then work hard - really work hard - to make them come true, what next? You got the big salary, the shiny new sports car, and if you're lucky you've also found someone you want to spend your life with. What now? Give back. A few weeks ago I was invited to a ceremony at the Boys and Girls Club in the neighboring city of Chelsea. We were all there because a businessman named Jerry Jordan was giving the club a donation of three million dollars. Now let me tell you this about Jerry Jordan - he is not one of those guys who was born on third base and thinks he hit a triple. In other words, he is a self-made man. He came from Revere, just an average guy. He got into finance, started near the bottom, but he dreamed big and worked hard, and today he's in a position where he can give donations of several million dollars to community groups that he admires. He is giving back. He is making it possible for others to strive for the same success he has enjoyed, and that, ultimately, is the greatest success you can have, to pull others up with you. Give back. In my office, I lead a staff of about 130 prosecutors. These are highly talented lawyers, and I am not exaggerating when I tell you that many of them are among the best lawyers in the state, if not the country. If they joined private law firms, they could be making three, four, five times what they are making as public prosecutors. But they stay in the DA's office - thank God - because they find the work rewarding. They find it satisfying to help people who have been victimized by crime. They find it satisfying to hold criminals accountable for their actions. They find it satisfying to help make our neighborhoods safe places to live and work and raise our families. They are giving back. In your religion classes here, you may have read about St. Francis. Perhaps you have heard his prayer, in which he asks God to teach him to want to console others, rather than to be consoled himself, to teach him to understand, rather than seek to be understood. Follow that example. See beyond yourself. Give something back. That's the best advice I can leave you with. That, and: Please, let your parents know what time you'll be home tonight. Congratulations. --END--