Ross Thompson

No one is happy with the situation. No one profits from having our own Provost serve as our special guest speaker at Commencement. In all fairness, there is nothing wrong with Dr. McKenzie as a person. (Granted, I’ve only seen the man once, and that was when he spoke at that other “big C”: Convocation.) It is unfortunate that he will be leaving RIT with the most stigmatized RIT Commencement in recent history.

Being stuck with our own provost for a Commencement speaker is about as taboo as taking your own sister to prom. That isn’t to say that your sister is a poor prom date. For any other guy, she could be the belle of the ball, but as is the case with our man Stan, it’s the incestuous nature of the engagement that troubles all parties involved. And the fundamental question is the same in both scenarios: was a “family” member asked because the inviter believed it was actually a good idea, or because the inviter was actually that desperate?

I’m not sure which is the lesser evil. I respect Dr. Destler, and feel like he’s doing his best to promote positive change on campus. That being said, couldn’t he recycle a speaker from the University of Maryland? How can Destler talk the big wigs into donating the big bucks to RIT if he can’t even convince one to say a few words to our graduating class? I almost hope that Destler thought McKenzie would be a wise choice for fear that the alternative actually puts the Institute’s future in grave danger.

It isn’t too much of a stretch to want to honor Stan, though, is it? Does the man not deserve an honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters from RIT? Sure he does, but I have serious qualms about him signing and validating his own degree, since that’s sort of his job here: making sure that our BS degrees add up to more than their initials.

And yes, the situation brings up logistical nightmares. Since the provost serves as an MC of sorts, will he have to welcome himself? The student voice at the ceremony has already been castrated by selecting a representative from each college and giving them a mere 30 seconds to inevitably thank their families, congratulate their colleagues, and watch the long cane pull them away from the podium before they manage to say anything of great consequence. Did I mention that their 30-second pitches are pre-screened by the administration? Destler and McKenzie offer the threat of a homoglossic ceremony. We need an outsider for the sheer sake of adding another voice to the mix.

In light of all this, I feel sorry for Dr. McKenzie. There is no doubt in my mind that he will give a great speech (at least, he should: he has a Ph.D. in literature), and it is regrettable that many students have attached a ball and chain to his name and dropped it in the pool during the early stages of frustration when their comments can more constructively be directed to Sue Provenzano, who is always calm and keen to respond to rational student concerns involving Commencement. To be clear: what I protest is the invitation, not the man.

I’m afraid it’s too late to change things, no matter how loud we scream. The Administration has a good reason not to budge: the only thing more offensive than asking your own provost to speak at Commencement is to imply that he is unfit for the task by revoking the invitation. We were never meant to be happy with the 2008 Commencement speaker; we would inevitably consider them lackluster in the shadow of Bill Clinton. As the last eight years have proved, and as the Administration will inevitably defend themselves, “They can’t all be Clintons.” The truth is that they couldn’t find anyone better.

Jokes and rationalizations aside, there is something much more personal and deeply demoralizing. I just spent four years at an Institute that I’ve found has more or less catered to my needs. Imagine working every day for four years on a masterpiece: your greatest painting you could ever hope to accomplish. And, after all that time it spent materializing in your mind, haunting your thoughts, tying itself to your very identity, you show up to opening night at the gallery and not a soul is willing to introduce your accomplishment.

I am not being taken seriously as a student. A seed of doubt has been planted in my mind concerning the prestige of this institute. Had my family not already booked a hotel room for the ceremony, I would seriously consider skipping out on it, as oh-so-many RIT students do, and oh-so-many more RIT students will.