In the spirit of this festive academic season of the year, I wish to reprint a letter written by my older brother Joe--a talented writer--to his family that captures the essence of inner greatness, and how it was elegantly displayed by his academically gifted son Ashton at his recent graduation in Orem, Utah.
As the Salutatorian of his class, Ashton recently spoke to a gathering of nearly 9,000 people at Utah Valley University's basketball arena (The UCCU Center) as part of the 2015 American Fork High School graduation ceremony. Ashton is a National Merit Scholar with a better-than-perfect GPA. He scored a 35 out of 36 on his college-entrance exam (ACT) and will be attending Brigham Young University in the fall on a full-ride academic scholarship. He is considering majoring in either physics or engineering.
My readers should know that neither Joe nor Ashton did what he did, or wrote what he wrote, with any intention of garnering extra attention for their deeds; the spotlighting is all my doing. Such authenticity on the part of Joe and Ashton is precisely why the story deserves attention, and why I took the liberty to reprint it here today--with Joe's permission.
The Essence of Inner Greatness on Display at Graduation
By: Joe Jensen
The weather here in Northern Utah this May has been reminiscent of when Ashton was born 18 years ago. His birthday was Sunday, and it has felt more like Seattle than Salt Lake. After the driest/warmest winter on record it has been one of the wettest/coolest May’s ever. It really is perplexing to me that it has already been 18 years since Julie rolled out of bed, breaking her water and setting in motion our life as a family. It is also hard to believe that Ashton is on the verge of leaving home. I feel sorry for parents who look forward to their children leaving home, because we truly are mourning his imminent departure.
I got up early on the 28th because I’m a little slower these days having undergone back surgery only a week ago. I got on my suit, and when I went to put on my socks, I found that the only pair I had that would really work with my suit were the same socks I wore the day I got married nearly 20 years ago. Why do I include this detail? I don’t know—maybe deep down I really am a sentimental guy that makes those kinds of connections. As I thought more about it, I realized that anyone reading this would see right past any sentimentality and realize I am one seriously cheap tightwad with traces of hoarding in my personality. Who even owns the same pair of socks for 20 years? No wonder Matt makes fun of me for my holey socks at every family get together. Too much information.
After I was dressed, I got all the kids up for scriptures and breakfast. Julie and Ashton had to go to Utah Valley University (UVU) about an hour before the rest of us, so I was helping with breakfast with all the kids while Julie was still upstairs getting ready. It seemed uneventful enough, until I tuned in to AnneMerie and Ashton’s breakfast conversation. It went something like this:
AnneMerie asked, “So, Ashton, what is the deal with silver or gold cords at graduation?”
Ashton replied, “You basically pay money to hang something around your neck to show everybody else that you are pretty smart (silver cords) or really smart” (Gold Cords).
AnneMerie inquired further, “McKenna said you weren’t going to buy them. Did you?”
“No. She thinks I will regret not having them for graduation. I bet her a dollar that I wouldn’t regret not buying them.”
My first thought was, “does his mother realize he doesn’t have a pair of gold cords?“ My second thought was, “it is very good Julie is not down here at breakfast hearing this.” My third thought was, “Ashton’s mother is going to kill him.” My fourth thought, on the edge of panic and irrational fear was, “is there a way we can keep his mother from seeing him at graduation?” My rational mind quickly realized that she would realize it at some point and hiding it from her was not realistic. So then my thoughts quickly questioned, “Is there any way I can be blamed for Ashton not having gold cords?” I didn’t think I could, but I knew somebody was going to be in trouble over this.
At this point, all the kids had tuned into the conversation, and I obviously was hyper focused on the rest of the discussion:
“Well, are you going to regret it?” AnneMerie asked.
“Why would I regret it?” Ashton replied.
“Wouldn’t you want people to know you were in the smartest group of kids in your class?”
“All my friends already know, and why would I care if anyone else looked at me and thought I’m not smart because I don’t have a gold cord around my neck? Besides, now I’ll earn a dollar off my bet with McKenna,” Ashton explained.
I still hadn’t said anything, too afraid Julie might implicate me somehow in this plot to overthrow the pomp and circumstance of the 2015 AFHS graduation. But, I couldn’t help but notice the impact this conversation was having on AnneMerie. I could see the wheels turning in her head at this point. I also realized that what Ashton was teaching her in this moment was more powerful than any discussion I could ever have with her on this topic as a parent largely because of Ashton’s proximity in age and her admiration of him.
Ashton went on to say that wearing a gold cord -- or not -- was not going to change who he was or anything he had learned, and that wearing it was a bit artificial. I realized at this point I might be implicated because I had said something similar a few weeks earlier. We all knew Ashton had a good chance of being the Valedictorian. However, the evening of the senior honors night at AFHS I had a similar conversation with Ashton before we went to the announcement. I purposely did it in front of the other kids. I told him, “it would be a nice honor to get, but remember that whether you are valedictorian, salutatorian, or neither will not change what you have become. Having the piece of paper on your wall, or in a storage box somewhere will not change one bit what you have learned and become in the last 18 years. And, what you have become is way more important than the external validation that any of these honors carry.” I also emphasized that while his academic achievements are about as amazing as anyone anywhere, his mother and I appreciated even more other attributes he has developed, such as how kind and patient he is to his five younger siblings.”
As the conversation wound down, I’m not going to lie—I was still pretty concerned how this was all going to play out with his mom. I still hadn’t said anything, but at this point, Ashton had convinced me that it really was an external trapping that didn’t matter. Part of me wanted him to wear it because it is an honor, and he had earned it, but as this conversation finished up, I realized he was right. I added, “I suppose this really isn’t so different from Dr. Seuss’s book about Sneeches. Do we really need to get a star belly to show everyone else that we are better somehow? And, in this case, do we need two types of stars so that some can feel better than being a plain bellied Sneech, while still feeling bad they didn’t have gold stars on their bellies?” We all cogitated on this while we finished munching our breakfast.
Anyway, we all made it to the graduation in plenty of time, which was a small miracle. The procession started, and graduates filed in. The girls sat on our side, and the boys all sat on the opposite side. I couldn’t help but think, "maybe Julie won’t notice he is not wearing anything because he was so far away." Plus, I thought, she often misses fairly obvious visual things, like the time she didn’t notice the 2’ x 3’ painting I hung in the most obvious place in our house on her birthday about 15 years ago. Ashton entered the arena as far away as he could have from where we were sitting. By the time he got halfway to his seat, Julie exclaimed, “Did he not order his cords?”
I looked a bit sheepish, knowing what I knew, yet not having a clue how to break it to her.
“Nope,” I offered lamely. “But I wish you could have heard the conversation Ashton had with AnneMerie at breakfast about why he didn’t order one.” She didn’t say anything about the missing Red and Gold Salutatorian medal and the other garb that all the other people on the stand were wearing, but I wasn’t about to bring that up at this juncture.
It didn’t immediately seem to assuage her feelings about the missing cords, but somehow, in my drug induced state I explained the best I could, while melody of pomp and circumstance played, what had transpired at breakfast and that I actually think what he did was honorable, especially because it truly was not meant as any big political statement—rather it was just Ashton truly being Ashton. By the time all the graduates were in the arena and everyone sat down, she didn’t seem to be too worried about it. My only thoughts at this point were, “this is either a graduation miracle, or I’m really good at explaining stuff to my wife, or, these drugs really are effective.”
One final note about the missing swag around Ashton’s neck—no one else seemed to think much about it. At least no one mentioned anything about it—except the two women Julie admires most in our ward. They commented to her later in the day that they were blown away at what an amazing kid Ashton is, and that they noticed only because they knew Ashton could be the most decorated kid at the graduation, yet they were so impressed that he didn’t feel the need to do it. They also commented that they knew he wasn’t doing it to prove anything or make a statement—it was just who he is. Julie looked a bit sheepish at this point, and admitted to them that we are all learning from Ashton.
...............
I want to thank Ashton for his mature perspective and example of modesty. Such qualities exemplify in part what it means to be an authentic self-action leader. SAL, after all, is more about becoming than it is about merely achieving or getting. Moreover, it is demonstrated not by appearances and accoutrements, but authenticity and integrity. In the eloquent words of the poet Alice Cary:
Nobility
True worth is in being, not seeming,—
In doing each day that goes by
Some little good –– not in the dreaming
Of great things to do by and by.
For whatever men say in blindness,
And spite of the fancies of youth,
There’s nothing so kingly and kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth.
We get back our mete as we measure —
We cannot do wrong and feel right,
Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure,
For justice avenges each slight.
The air for the wing of the sparrow,
The bush for the robin and wren,
But alway[s] the path that is narrow
And straight, for the children of men.
’Tis not in the pages of story
The heart of its ills to beguile,
Though he who makes courtship to glory
Gives all that he hath for her smile.
For when from her heights he has won her,
Alas! it is only to prove
That nothing’s so sacred as honor,
And nothing so loyal as love!
We cannot make bargains for blisses,
Nor catch them like fishes in nets;
And sometimes the thing our life misses,
Helps more than the thing which it gets.
For good lieth not in pursuing,
Nor gaining of great nor of small,
But just in the doing, and doing
As we would be done by, is all.
Through envy, through malice, through hating,
Against the world, early and late,
No jot of our courage abating —
Our part is to work and to wait.
And slight is the sting of his trouble
Whose winnings are less than his worth;
For he who is honest is noble,
Whatever his fortunes or birth. [1]
– Alice Cary
(1820-1871)
[1] Reprinted from Ames, M.C., Ed. (1874). The Last Poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary. New York, NY: Hurd and Houghton. Pages 72-73.
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