“What Do I Know?"
Brown University's 2019 Baccalaureate address delivered by John Krasinski '01.
Background
John Krasinski, also known as “Jim” from The Office, delivered Brown University’s 2019 Baccalaureate address. I remember the speech well because I graduated this year. I was sitting in the back row.
In a way, I felt like the speech spoke directly to me. You’ll find the lessons within it as useful as I did.
Speech Transcript
(Picks up at 6:22)
Believe it or not, they asked me to come up with a title for this speech. The name I came up with was: “What do I know?”
Funny enough, that line went from being a jokey device I used to deflect my own fears of being up here on stage to a genuine challenge to myself:
What do I know that I tell you about that can possibly illuminate the future that stands in front of you?
I know that tomorrow you’ll receive a paper that says you’ve received one of the best educations there is. I also know that that education didn’t necessarily happen in the classroom.
I didn’t feel like I deserved to get into Brown. So I made it my mission to deserve to graduate from Brown.
I was admitted as a mid-year. Which means that I was one of 32 students who started in January. Cold, alone, and afraid. I remember immediately trying to find my place. To find my group. My people.
There was a moment I tried walking on to the Brown basketball team. My brother, Paul, was team captain so I communicated with the coach about walking on. It was January, mid-season, so I walked up to meet with the coach. I opened up the door. As the door swung open, by the time it reached the end and was coming back I said, “Nope. No way.”
These guys were too big. Too good. And it was just after lunch and they were on their second practice!? No thank you.
So I turned around, walked straight through campus, when something caught my eye. I saw a flyer for a sketch comedy group called Out Of Bounds. I remember the flyer catching my eye because it nailed to… a tree? I thought, “I hadn’t been at Brown long, but I thought protecting trees was your thing?”
So I went in for the audition. And my entire life changed. Not because I got in. Not because I started acting. It was through that group that I found my way into this community. It was through that group that I met my people. And all of a sudden I was surrounded by the most inspiring peers. Every single one of them seemed way cooler than me. And way more interesting.
One of the best decisions I ever made was to lean all the way in. Not to acting. I really wasn’t good enough to act here. The only parts I’d ever gotten in a play was Armed Guard #4 and Terrified Hostage Guest #2… that’s right when I was at Brown we did Die Hard: The Musical. You guys really missed out.
No, I didn’t get to throw everything into acting. But I did throw everything I had into this unparalleled pool of brilliant people.
People often ask me how I got into acting. But the truth is I didn’t get into acting. I got into everything.
Believe it or not, when I got to Brown, I hadn’t listened to any music that wasn’t in the radio. I’d never seen any movie that wasn’t in the multiplex. One day, I asked a small group of friends to each give me one one of their favorite movies, favorite albums, and they did. Every week. For four years.
It was the experience of my life. One of the most mind blowing, mind expanding experiences. And no drugs were necessary.
It was, without a doubt the beginning of everything. For the next four years, I wanted to be part of it all. I formed a new way of thinking. A new way of executing those thoughts. I leapt out of my comfort zone. Then stayed there. Then leapt again.
I experienced the powerful shift in doing something out of love, rather than out of necessity. I learned what it meant to believe. I took chances. I failed. And I took more chances.
So yes, in the classroom I received one of the greatest educations one can possibly get. But the piece of paper I got at graduation also represents that education. The piece of paper I got not only says where I was educated, but who I was educated with. And it declares that I am a member of a community of people to be relied upon to take risks. To provoke thought. And to be committed participants in this world.
The piece of paper I got represented every facet of my experience. The piece of paper I got is the exact same piece of paper you’re going to get tomorrow. The piece of paper I got, I lived my life by every single day.
Because when looking at this sense of nervous that you’re feeling now upon graduating, ask yourself “What’s it based in?”
Is it based in the unknown? Because if so, my question to you is, “Up until now, how else have you approached each new tomorrow?”
And if your nerves are based on a fear of failure, my question to you is, “Up until now, how have you defined success?”
Because in this community, without the presence of financial gain, isn’t the definition of success simply defined as you being onto something? Taking an idea farther than it had ever been before? Why does it ever need to change? It doesn’t.
Or if your nerves are based on something bigger. The fear of the world at large. Well, to that I say, “Yes it’s true. They’re right.” The future does indeed belong to you. But the abstract weight of the responsibility to change it over night does not. Real change is organic. The only responsibility you have is to hold fast to everything you’ve lived right here. To not conform. To realize that when you’re out in the world, you’ve done all this before. Right in here.
Remember fondly the discomfort when you were asked to push farther than you were ever sure you would go. And the wash of elation when you finally got there.
Remember to be scared. You’ve been scared before. You’ll be scared again.
Find more of your people. Lean all the way in. Take chances. Fail big. And take chances again.
Listen to music. Remember to believe in something. And fall in love as many times as it takes.
And remember: Before you do something special. Just do something. The truth can almost seem too simple. But the simple truth is the program you ran here is the same program. Just run it again. And again. And again.
That’s what I know.
Thank you to this class. To this institution. It’s my honor. Thank you.
Thanks for reading.
— Grant Varner