Clarence Otis ’77
Fulfilling Our Leadership Obligation
Distinguished members of the faculty, trustees, staff, graduates and guests, good morning! And, thank you President Shapiro, Mort, for providing me this opportunity to share some thoughts with the 2009 graduates of what has been a true treasure in my life, Williams College.
Our Leadership Obligation
As our graduates make this milestone transition, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on two categories of people that, I think, have played central roles in each of our lives and to consider what we owe because of their contribution.
The first group worthy of our individual and collective pause, and praise, are the people who have created opportunities for us. And, the second are the people who have prepared us to take advantage of the opportunities.
When I think about the former, the people were opportunity creators for me, I think most immediately about legends in the African American experience — about people like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Thurgood Marshall and Rosa Parks, and about W.E.B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington, Jackie Robinson and all the others.
But I also know that, beyond these and other legends we all know so very well, there are many, many other unsung heroes who were there for me and who were there for the youngsters I grew up with in the largely African American community of Watts, in Los Angeles. And I think about them as well.
Some of these unsung heroes were people of color, but many were not. And so, I think about what they shared. I think about their passion, their commitment and their faith as they knocked down legal, social and other barriers to achievement for African Americans.
I believe that, whether celebrated or unsung, what fueled the passion, what fueled the commitment and what fueled the faith as these pioneers did what they did is that they envisioned me, or someone like me, standing here before you one day as chief executive officer of a Fortune 500 company. In fact, I’m convinced that, as they attacked with selfless dedication the barriers that they faced, that we faced, they did so envisioning what we have the privilege of bearing witness to today — an African American serving as President of the United States.
I, for one, am thankful for their courage, these opportunity creators!
But, their pioneering work was not enough; it was not enough if their dreams were to be fulfilled. Creating opportunity was necessary, but it was insufficient. Their dreams were only to be realized because of the work of a second group of heroes — the people who prepared us to take advantage of the opportunities that were created. And, when it comes to this second group, the preparers, there are, again in my specific case, legends from the African American experience.
I think of Allain Locke and Richard Wright, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Zora Neale Hurston and the other great literary and cultural thinkers. I think about how they prepared a generation of young African Americans by helping us better understand who we are, and how, in doing so, they provided us with the confidence we needed to seize the emerging opportunities.
But, in this group as well, in addition to the celebrated there are the unsung. And, so often, what I see is that it is among the unsung where you find the educators, the teachers; teachers who, again, in my personal narrative, against all the evidence in their own lives, had faith that this moment of African American CEOs and African American United States presidents was possible; who, based on small rays of hope, had faith that, for their African American students, there might be no barriers to achievement. And, based on that faith, they did so much to prepare us for limitless possibilities.
I think about how they built our self-esteem and our skills; about how they convinced us that — by working hard and seeking knowledge and excellence — we could do anything.
And so, I think about people like Mr. Wilkins, my third grade teacher, who encouraged me to move beyond primary readers and tackle more substantive material like the biography of the great Sioux leader, Crazy Horse — which helped me put myself and my situation in Watts in context by putting Los Angeles and the entire American West in context.
I think about people like Mr. Norris, my ninth grade government teacher, who challenged the hit recording “The World is a Ghetto” by the R&B band, War. He raged at us about how the world was not a ghetto, about how our community, with all its difficulties, was part of a larger world of opportunity. And, in doing so, he helped us understand that we were citizens of the world, that we had a right, indeed that, given the sacrifices of those who broke down barriers, we had an obligation to try to shape the entire world.
And, I think about educators who came into my life after Watts — about people like the late Bill Oliver, our Calculus professor my first semester, freshman year, here at Williams. I recall how, as I struggled with the material, Professor Oliver chose to believe my challenges reflected poor preparation, not poor intellect, and so he tutored me one on one after every class for the entire semester. Yet, what struck me most, the most important statement Professor Oliver made about the legitimacy of my presence at Williams was not the tutoring; it was when he had me over to his home for Thanksgiving dinner that year.
I could go on and on, but I won’t. I do know, however, that there are legions of people who believed with all their heart that, if they did everything they could to create opportunities for my generation of African American young people — and for me in particular; and, just as importantly, there were countless others who believed that, if they did everything they could to prepare us to take advantage of those opportunities, there would moments like this — moments when African Americans would take leadership roles in our nation’s business and civic institutions, demonstrating to the rest of the world the power of embracing and finding strength in our differences.
I recognize, of course, that each of you has a different narrative, with different experiences. But I suspect that what we have in common is that, for you too, there were two sets of critically important people: those who created opportunities for you, and those who prepared you to take advantage of the opportunities.
In my view, what this means, the “so what” of it all is that each of us has lived a life of privilege — which, of course, is what our shared education at Williams tells anyone who knows anything about the College.
Privilege is something Williams readily admits to in its mission statement, noting that the College is itself privileged by its history and circumstances; circumstances which — despite recent reversals in the financial markets — include tremendous financial resources; circumstances which include a faculty that is deeply committed to educating students and to expanding human knowledge and understanding; circumstances which include a professional staff that possesses the expertise required to support a gifted faculty; and, finally, circumstances which include a loyal, engaged and generous body of alumni.
The College also recognizes something else in its mission statement; and that is that with privilege comes obligation. And, so it is with each of us; because we are privileged, we too have obligations. And, I believe the most important is our leadership obligation.
Whether the community we choose to make the focal point of our life is academic, corporate, social, artistic or political, we can repay the investment the college, the nation, and indeed the world have made in us — the privilege we’ve enjoyed — by providing our chosen communities with leadership.
Fulfilling Our Obligation
The critical question then is: what does it take to fulfill our leadership obligation? Well, I’ve come to believe it takes three things:
- sustained curiosity
- the ability to dream big dreams
- and meaningful expertise, or know-how
Curiosity is essential because it helps us put things in context, it helps us understand why people, organizations, organisms and circumstances are the way they are. With a solid understanding of who, or what, we’re dealing with and the environment we’re operating in, we can make good, informed decisions. Without that, it’ll be hard to take any degree of control of our environment.
Of course, each of you, our graduates, was admitted to Williams because you are learners; because you have both the capacity and the desire to explore the world widely and deeply in any number of dimensions. And I’m confident that, since you arrived, the College has encouraged and nurtured your intellectual and social curiosity.
In my experience, however, the difficulty is sustaining curiosity over a lifetime — especially curiosity about people. As time goes by, most of us retreat to the safety of the like-minded and forego the opportunity to honestly and intimately engage people who are different because discussing, understanding and, ultimately, embracing difference is simply too much work.
And it is hard. It’s hard because, in conversations with one another about meaningful differences — whether the differences are in cultural norms, social perspective, politics, religion or anything else that really matters, that truly defines us — it’s easy to offend.
I implore you — accept the challenge. And, in doing so, commit yourself to continuing to cultivate what I think of as leadership level curiosity. With that kind of curiosity, you’ll have a more complete picture of where things are today. But, more importantly, you’ll be better able to dream big dreams for tomorrow — which, in my view, is the second predicate for providing effective leadership.
You must be able to envision, and communicate, a fundamentally new and better reality for your community — inspiring people to work on new things or to work in different ways. In doing that, you’ll enable them to fully realize the community’s potential.
With all that, there’s one last thing we need to fulfill our leadership obligation. We need to be able to help do the work required to make our dreams real. And that highlights the importance of developing relevant expertise, of becoming a leading practitioner in an area that matters in the community we’ve chosen.
A couple of final observations. As you think about how you’re going to discharge the leadership obligation that comes with privilege, make sure that, for you, the work you decide to commit yourself to is fun. That’s because, no matter how disciplined you are, no matter how noble your purpose, if your chosen work is not fun — at least some of the time — you’ll never persevere.
As you look back on your Williams experience, I think you can appreciate just how important it is to have some measure of fun with your work because your Williams experience has not just been about privilege and the leadership obligation that comes with it.
Your experience has also been about good times and great friends, in the classroom and outside it. And, if my experience is any guide, there’s one thing I’m sure of; and that is that many of the friends you’ve made here will be with you every step of the way, encouraging, supporting and inspiring you!
As you make your leadership journey, they’ll be there, making sure you continue to see and focus on the humor, and the joy, in your work and in your life!
And, with that, let me say to you, Class of 2009, congratulations and best wishes!
June 7, 2009