Their days of prescribed studying have come to an end and out the doors they will go, onto conquering their part of earth.

 

School has prepared them to get along in society; how well they fare at achieving in their next lives is up to them.

 

But something is never talked about at commencement is what is on my mind.

 

Roughly two thirds of the graduates will (hopefully) find the one they love and settle down to make a family.

 

There have been some classes along the way, but essentially child raising will be an on-the-job issue.

 

Learning as you go. 

 

I speak of this because I chose not to have a family.

 

But over the 50 years since I left Foley High School (Class of 1964), I have watched.

 

I have marvelled at the resilience of some parents to map their plans and raise their children with energy, pride and caring and The Golden Rule.

 

I have watched as they paraded their kids into church, into the library, onto the ballfields and into the museums. 

 

I have watched as parents, despite their best efforts, saw children slip away to dark places.

 

I have also watched as parents became unglued and the result was unestimable damage to the spirits of the little ones.

 

OJT, it’s called. 

 

And, despite your plans for a robust career, with a good job, lots of money, a three (or four-stall) garage and all the toys . . . 

 

And, the community achievements and recognitions and “winner’s circles” and friends . . . 

 

And, the other things.

 

How will you do with your OJT and the kids to come?

 

I remember our Meyer Kids growing-up days on the farm at Oak Park.

 

I had the best parents in the world. My father, Franklin, the stoic German, I many times wished he would speak to me more. But his actions spoke greatly for his zest for life - and I have tried to be like him.

 

My mother, Ethel, the school teacher, knew we needed books in front of us. She had one thing going for her in the days prior to 1950 - there wasn’t a television set in the house.

 

So at night, she would read to us, Chuck, Anita, Diane and myself. 

 

My favorite bedtime stories were the series called Aesop’s Fables. My favorite story was about “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” It was about a boy who herded sheep and amused himself by running into town crying “wolf.”

 

The townspeople would scamper to the meadow, only to see the boy giggling and saying there was no wolf.

 

Inevitably, the wolf came.

 

But the people didn’t. I suspect I had my mother read that fable to me 500 times.

 

When she quit reading to me, she put books in my hands. I loved books and they - along with good fortune and the Grace of God - have resulted in me enjoying this career for now 42 years.

 

That’s my only suggestion, young graduates.

 

Do your OJT as best-possible. 

 

And - moms and dads, take your babies into your bosoms and begin reading to them long before you think they’re listening.

Because they are.