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Donovan Livingston's Spoken Word Convocation Speech at Harvard is a Classic

Enjoy this speech, in video and text, by Donovan Livingston, Ed.M.'16, student speaker at Harvard Graduate School of Education’s 2016 Convocation exercises. Instead of a traditional speech, he chose to communicate via spoken word and he is awesome. 

Donovan Lingston

 

Lift Off

 

“Education then, beyond all other devices of human origin,

is a great equalizer of the conditions of men.” – Horace Mann, 1848.

At the time of his remarks I couldn’t read — I couldn’t write.

Any attempt to do so, punishable by death.

For generations we have known of knowledge’s infinite power.

Yet somehow, we have never questioned the keeper of the keys —

The guardians of information.

 

Unfortunately, I’ve seen more dividing and conquering

In this order of operations — a heinous miscalculation of reality.

For some, the only difference between a classroom and a plantation is time.

How many times must we be made to feel like quotas —

Like tokens in coined phrases? —

“Diversity. Inclusion.”

There are days I feel like one, like only —

A lonely blossom in a briar patch of broken promises.

But, hey, I’ve always been a thorn in the side of injustice.

 

Disruptive. Talkative. A distraction.

With a passion that transcends the confines of my own consciousness —

Beyond your curriculum, beyond your standards.

I stand here, a manifestation of love and pain,

With veins pumping revolution.

I am the strange fruit that grew too ripe for the poplar tree.

I am a DREAM Act, Dream Deferred incarnate.

And a movement – an amalgam of memories America would care to forget

My past, alone won’t allow me to sit still.

So my body, like my mind

Cannot be contained.

 

As educators, rather than raising your voices

Over the rustling of our chains,

Take them off. Un-cuff us.

Unencumbered by the lumbering weight

Of poverty and privilege,

Policy and ignorance.

 

I was in the 7th grade, when Ms. Parker told me,

“Donovan, we can put all of  your excess energy to good use!”

And she introduced me to the sound of my own voice.

She gave me a stage. A platform.

She told me that our stories are the ladders

That make it easier for us to touch the stars.

So climb and grab them.

Keep climbing. Grab them.

Spill your emotions in the big dipper and pour out your soul.

Light up the world with your luminous allure.

 

To educate requires Galileo-like patience.

Today, when I look my students in the eyes, all I see are constellations.

If you take the time to connect the dots,

You can plot the true shape of their genius —

Shining in their darkest hour.

 

I look each of my students in the eyes,

And see the same light that aligned Orion’s Belt

And the pyramids of Giza.

I see the same twinkle

That guided Harriet to freedom.

I see them. Beneath their masks and their mischief,

Exists an authentic frustration;

An enslavement to your standardized assessments.

 

At the core, none of us were meant to be common.

We were born to be comets,

Darting across space and time —

Leaving our mark as we crash into everything.

A crater is a reminder that something amazing happened right here —

An indelible impact that shook up the world.

Are we not astronomers — searching for the next shooting star?

I teach in hopes of turning content, into rocket ships —

Tribulations into telescopes,

So a child can see their true potential from right where they stand.

An injustice is telling them they are stars

Without acknowledging the night that surrounds them.

Injustice is telling them education is the key

While you continue to change the locks.

 

Education is no equalizer —

Rather, it is the sleep that precedes the American Dream.

So wake up — wake up! Lift your voices

Until you’ve patched every hole in a child’s broken sky.

Wake up every child so they know of their celestial potential.

I’ve been the Black hole in a classroom for far too long;

Absorbing everything, without allowing my light to escape.

But those days are done. I belong among the stars.

And so do you. And so do they.

Together, we can inspire galaxies of greatness

For generations to come.

So no — no, sky is not the limit. It is only the beginning.

Lift off.

 

~ Donovan Livingston

 

 

 

 


I Have Too Much Stuff: Declaring My Transition to Minimalism

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On this second day of the eight month in the year 2014, I declare my lifestyle change to minimalism. I experienced this epiphany as I was continuing my seemingly never-ending purging/organizing project at home. I have truly had enough of this. I need to purge way more than I had planned.

I have been blessed to have accumulated many things during my lifetime. Some things have been acquired via gifting but most are of my own doing. My friends know I’m a Barbie doll collector but most of my collection is in storage so that’s not the culprit in the issue of my personal space. I will pare that collection down a try to limit it to 50 dolls. I am spending way too much money on storage but that’s another issue. I have multiples of things that I like. I’m not wealthy but I tended to live by the mantra that if I really liked an item and wanted it (and my disposable income could cover it), go ahead and buy it. Life is short and you can’t take those things with you when die, right?

Well, I have too many things. How do I know? Well, because I’m not ‘enjoying’ those ‘things’ as much as I used to. I will enjoy my Barbies and amateur photography and a few other diversions but I want to spend more of my time connecting with and helping people. Most of my things are just in the way and interfering with my quest for a tranquil personal space. I also know that if I were to die unexpectedly, my family would likely sell my Kelly Moore camera bags and Timbuktu messenger bags and designer handbags and Barbies for a $1 a piece. 

Anywhoo, thèse bottles of Coca-Cola commemorating the 1978 Florida A&M University NCAA Division IAA Football Championship are an example of excess soon to be eliminated in my life. There are three remaining FAMU alums in my immediate household, we only need one of these bottles, not six. Can you say dustcatchers? My excess items will be included in a mega yard sale in a couple of months to raise funds for the foundation in my parents name and the items that do not sell will be donated to charity.  

I’ll dedicate a few posts of my journey to minimalism. I already feel liberated from just acknowledging my current situation. In the meantime, enjoy this abbreviated version of the classic George Carlin routine about “Stuff.”

  

 

- vb