Thrive, Don’t Just Survive

Thank you for the trust of this moment. I do not take it lightly. To be asked to speak at your commencement is both humbling and deeply meaningful to me.
Now let me get right to it.
We are living in turbulent times.

But here is the truth:
There has never been a non-turbulent time.

Every generation looks around and declares,
“This is the worst it has ever been.”
“The most divided.”
“The most dangerous.”

And to quote the great philosopher… Billy Joel,
“We didn’t start the fire. It was always burning since the world’s been turning.”

The world has always been messy. Always loud. Always uncertain.
The most dangerous posture any generation can assume is to put its head in the sand and cling to the vestibules of the past.

When I was a boy growing up in Beaver, Utah, all thousand of us, if you count the cows, I could not have imagined the vibrant, global, visceral world I now live in.
My imagination was too small for what unfolded.

I will never forget boarding an airplane for the first time in my life to go on my mission. I was the first person in my family to ever fly.
I bawled.
All the way to Hartford, Connecticut.
I thought my world was ending.
Little did I know, that flight did not end my world.
It began it.
That was the moment I chose to step toward the unknown instead of shrinking from it.

Years ago, I was taught a profound progression by Ray Noorda:
You can resist change, and die.
You can adapt to change, and survive.
Or you can create change, and thrive.

Most people resist.
Some adapt.
The rare few embrace and create it.
Graduates, you are not here to survive.
You are not even here to merely adapt.
You are here to thrive.
And thriving requires courage.
It requires choosing action over inaction.

Now let me say something important.
When the dark days swirl around you, and they will,
When the weight feels heavy,
When you feel like screaming “Uncle”,
It is okay to take a beat.
Take a breath.
Take a pause.
Regroup. Recalibrate.
But do not set up a campfire and roast marshmallows in the pit of despair…………
Do not unpack your bags there……..
Despair is a rest stop, not a residence.
Stand back up.
And move forward.
Despair is the greatest demoralizer.

History shows us that inaction and complacency are often more dangerous than loud opposition. We saw that in Nazi Germany. Evil rarely advances because of a few loud voices. It advances when ordinary people shrink back and stay silent.
You must not shrink.
You must not grow complacent.
You must not believe your voice does not matter.

And here is something the headlines do not emphasize enough:
Extreme poverty globally has dropped dramatically in the last forty years. Hunger, while still unacceptable, affects a far smaller percentage of humanity than it once did. Child mortality has been cut by more than half since 1990. Life expectancy has risen across nearly every continent.

This does not mean we stop improving.
It means progress is possible.
The world is not collapsing.
It is struggling forward.
And forward is enough, if brave people keep pushing.

I remember being a young father, barely making ends meet, living with a constant sense that the world might tilt sideways at any moment. Y2K, all clocks and computers were supposed to stop. 9/11, the Twin Towers in NYC toppling. And war in Iraq.

My brother-in-law was an infantry soldier, one of the first across the border chasing Saddam Hussein’s Republican Guard. We were told that in his unit, one out of three would not come home.

At that time, I went to my mother and asked,
“How do I have the courage to bring children into this upside-down, nuts world?”

She paused and said,
“Son… have you had a good life?”

I said,
“It’s been amazing, Mom. Thank you so much.”

She smiled and said,
“Let me tell you about the world I brought you into.”
John F. Kennedy assassinated.
Cuba pointing nuclear missiles at us.
The Berkeley riots.
Civil unrest.
Woodstock, drugs, sex, and rock ’n’ roll.
Hippies.
The Vietnam War.

“And yet here you are,” she said. “Alive. Grateful. Thriving.”

Then she told me,
“Go bring me some grandchildren and expect the best.”

That conversation changed me.
This past year, I had that exact same conversation with one of my sons.
The faces change.
The fear language does not.
You are not graduating into the end of the world.
You are graduating into your turn.

Let me risk mild offense for just a moment.
One of the dangers of institutions, including academic ones, is resistance to change. The temptation to rewind to the “good old days.”

I do not want my great-grandfather’s outhouse.
I like my heated seat.
I have used a typewriter without electricity.
I prefer my MacBook Pro.
And yes,  when used wisely, I welcome artificial intelligence.
Technology is not the enemy.
Change is not the enemy.
Stagnation is.
Clinging is.
Fear is.
Do not resist change.
Do not merely adapt to it.
Embrace it.
Shape it.
Lead it.

If my generation contributed to some of the mess, and we did, then unapologetically improve it.

Do better.
Build better.
Love better.
Lead better.
Do not hide under the table criticizing the darkness.
Stand up and present solutions.

And as I close, hear this clearly:
I am passing you the baton of confidence.
Not anxiety.
Not despair.
Confidence.

I have seen too much goodness, too much resilience, too much forward motion in humanity to believe otherwise.

You are not victims of your era.
You are architects of it.
Take the breath when needed.
Refuse to live in the pit.
Stand tall.
And move forward.
Congratulations, Class of 2026.
You got this.

With clarity,

Rich Christiansen

P.S. Please share this with a friend who may need it.