Class Day Speech
Matthew Stauffer
Class of 1996
 
It might seem strange that I'm speaking here today because I am no longer an official member of the class of 1996. As of this summer, I planned on graduating tomorrow, but on August 28^th of last year, the day I planned on moving into my apartment on Spring Street, I was diagnosed with leukemia.
 
The following day I visited a cancer center in New York City where I learned that the cure rates for my disease were 20% and I would not be able to return home that evening because I would have to begin my first round of chemotherapy that afternoon.
 
Although officially I will be a member of the class of 1997, I will in large part remain in spirit with the class of '96. And, as I've learned this year, spirit, will, and emotion can transcend any official classification, statistic or prognosis.
 
I would like to take this opportunity to thank this class and the Williams community at large for the support I received this year. We all know how painful it feels to be alone and despite all the time I spent in a hospital room or confined to the walls of my house in Connecticut the Williams community never allowed me to feel distant. In fact, it was
through the Williams connections that I had that I was ensured the best medical care available in the world.
 
After two chemotherapy regimens in a suspect New York City hospital, I transferred my treatment to the Dana Farber Cancer Institute in Boston where the care was unparalleled, and the attending physician overseeing my therapy as well as the teaching fellow following my specific case were both Williams graduates.
 
A mother of a friend of mine here at Williams, an oncologist in Wisconsin, provided invaluable advice from the beginning. The Williams community has supported me through every step of my battle, whether it was emotional support in the form of phone calls, letters or visits, inspiration on the soccer field or medical ties guaranteeing me the world's best doctors. Williams was with me.
 
Williams just has a way of attracting and then developing quality human beings. I don't mean to belittle the classroom education I received here because I believe it to be excellent. But I think I might have learned just as much if not more from the people here than I did from writing papers and studying for exams.
 
For that reason, I hope I am not being presumptuous by thinking that some of you might be able to take something away from my unique experience this year.
 
If I can choose one thing for you to take from me it would be to never lack the courage to change, the courage to change your life to make it better.
 
I think it's easy for people to get caught in routines that are tolerable to them but not their ideal situation. I think it’s human nature to seek security and establish comfort zones. But what we must never lack is the courage to leave our comfort zones, to take risks and to make ourselves happier.
 
I think this message borders on being trite but nevertheless it’s worth repeating today.
 
I feel like I am a different, better person now than I used to be, and I have cancer and seven months of chemotherapy to thank for that. That should not be the case for anyone. It should not have taken my diagnosis with a life-threatening disease to give me the courage to change.
 
When I was diagnosed all those times that I had spent wondering, asking myself "what if", came back to haunt me because they represented times in my life when I did not make the most of my opportunities. Taking risks is what it's all about. Risks make you feel alive, and in taking them, you ensure that you never spend time.