Don't underestimate how much antagonism there is toward women and how many people wish we could turn the clock back. One of the things people always say to you if you get upset is don't take it personally, but listen hard to what's going on and, please, I beg you, take it personally. Understand: every attack on Hillary Clinton for not knowing her place is an attack on you. Underneath almost all those attacks are the words: get back, get back to where you once belonged. When Elizabeth Dole pretends that she isn't serious about her career, that is an attack on you. The acquittal of OJ Simpson is an attack on you. Any move to limit abortion rights is an attack on you — whether or not you believe in abortion. The fact that Clarence Thomas is sitting on the Supreme Court today is an attack on you.
Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim. Because you don't have the alibi my class had — this is one of the great achievements and mixed blessings you inherit: unlike us, you can't say nobody told you there were other options. Your education is a dress rehearsal for a life that is yours to lead. Twenty-five years from now, you won't have as easy a time making excuses as my class did. You won't be able to blame the deans, or the culture, or anyone else: you will have no one to blame but yourselves. Whoa.
So what are you going to do? This is the season when a clutch of successful women — who have it all — give speeches to women like you and say, to be perfectly honest, you can't have it all. Maybe young women don't wonder whether they can have it all any longer, but in case any of you are wondering, of course you can have it all. What are you going to do? Everything, is my guess. It will be a little messy, but embrace the mess. It will be complicated, but rejoice in the complications. It will not be anything like what you think it will be like, but surprises are good for you. And don't be frightened: you can always change your mind. I know: I've had four careers and three husbands. And this is something else I want to tell you, one of the hundreds of things I didn't know when I was sitting here so many years ago: you are not going to be you, fixed and immutable you, forever. We have a game we play when we're waiting for tables in restaurants, where you have to write the five things that describe yourself on a piece of paper. When I was your age, I would have put: ambitious, Wellesley graduate, daughter, Democrat, single. Ten years later not one of those five things turned up on my list. I was: journalist, feminist, New Yorker, divorced, funny. Today not one of those five things turns up in my list: writer, director, mother, sister, happy. Whatever those five things are for you today, they won't make the list in ten years — not that you still won't be some of those things, but they won't be the five most important things about you. Which is one of the most delicious things available to women, and more particularly to women than to men. I think. It's slightly easier for us to shift, to change our minds, to take another path. Yogi Berra, the former New York Yankee who made a specialty of saying things that were famously maladroit, quoted himself at a recent commencement speech he gave.
‘When you see a fork in the road,' he said, ‘take it.' Yes, it's supposed to be a joke, but as someone said in a movie I made, don't laugh this is my life, this is the life many women lead: two paths diverge in a wood, and we get to take them both. It's another of the nicest things about being women; we can do that. Did I say it was hard? Yes, but let me say it again so that none of you can ever say the words, nobody said it was so hard. But it's also incredibly interesting. You are so lucky to have that life as an option.
… Whatever you choose, however many roads you travel, I hope that you choose not to be a lady. I hope you will find some way to break the rules and make a little trouble out there. And I also hope that you will choose to make some of that trouble on behalf of women. Thank you. Good luck. The first act of your life is over. Welcome to the best years of your lives.
HOW SHE DID THAT
Let the stories do the work
In the first two-thirds of this speech, Nora Ephron builds connection and credibility with her audience — not by telling them why they should listen, but by showing them. Stringing together a series of anecdotes about her time at Wellesley shows us that she knows of what she speaks. These are well-crafted windows into her experience using the poignant, evocative language of a writer and movie-maker.
In the full speech (see Sources for details), Ephron recounts the story of the limiting life advice she received from her class dean, saying the dean told her, ‘You've worked so hard at Wellesley, when you marry, take a year off. Devote yourself to your husband and your marriage.' On hearing details such as these, we share in her incredulity. The women graduating in 1996 would have known, of course, that girls could choose what they wanted to be when they grow up — just as much as a boy. In fact, they would have been certain in this knowledge. In typical Ephron style, she reads the room and provides just the right contrast in the form of this anecdote and the advice to devote her life to the proper care of her husband.
Personal stories do much of the work here. They serve to make the message more fun, more powerful and more memorable than a speech filled with warnings and wisdom — no matter how appropriate. Try using the contrast effect, cleverly demonstrated by Ephron, to bring your point into sharp relief. If you are looking to warn people off a particular choice, you might consider painting the picture of an undesirable outcome, in the form of a story.
Select a theme and create a structure
Often a speech is aided by the use of structure. This can help keep the speaker and the audience on track. In this case, Nora Ephron uses a comedic hook, referring to her own time at the college back in the early sixties. Again in the full version, Ephron repeatedly poses the rhetorical question, ‘How long ago was it?', using this to set up a series of vignettes, sharing her memories of how life was in the college for her generation (touching on subjects as diverse as lesbianism, curfews and tuition fees). She returns to this device repeatedly throughout the first part of the speech, and her chosen organising structure is part of what makes this address so easy to listen to.
Ephron lulls us along with the familiar arrangement of, ‘How long ago was it?' and then, ‘It was so long ago …', setting up a few funny tidbits to follow. She then rather jarringly but purposefully changes the antecedent — and we are jolted into not so funny reminiscences about illegal abortions.
The lesson is to use familiar language techniques to invite your audiences in. Get them laughing with you and merrily following along before you shift to more serious matters. You can judge where to start and the right notes to hit at the outset by reflecting on the context and expectations in the room. Try channelling Nora Ephron's use of structure and variation of expected speech patterns to make an impact.
Change gears to land a serious message
Nora Ephron springboards from her series of amusing anecdotes and interesting insights to arrive at her central point. This is a serious message, and though slightly preachy, it works well in this context. The contrast with the humorous, endearing part of the speech is strong. When she changes gears in this way, her language and pace also shift. This change of pace makes the audience lean forward and listen up. Note the subtle uplift in speed and intensity when she delivers this part:
Understand: every attack on Hillary Clinton for not knowing her place is an attack on you. Underneath almost all those attacks are the words: get back, get back to where you once belonged.
She goes on, riding the momentum she created, to name a series of insidious and damaging ‘attacks' in the contemporary social and political landscape that may (or may not) have escaped the attention of these ambitious young women.
Heading towards the conclusion of the speech, Nora Ephron manages to lift the mood. Changing tone again, she shifts to her
