the Board of Trustees, distinguished faculty, proud swelling parents and family, and gorgeous

class of 2010.

If you are all really, really lucky, and if you continue to work super hard, and you remember

your thank you notes and everybody's name; and you follow through on every task that's

asked of you and also somehow anticipate problems before they even arise and you somehow sidestep

disaster and score big. If you get great scores on your LSATS, or MSATS, or ERSATS or whatever.

And you get into your dream grad school or internship which leads to a super job with

a paycheck commensurate with responsibilities of leadership or if you somehow get that documentary edited

on a shoe-string budget and it gets accepted at Sundance and maybe it wins Sundance and

then you go on to be nominated for an Oscar and then you win the Oscar. Or if that money-making

website that you designed with your friends somehow suddenly attracts investors and advertisers

and becomes the go-to site for whatever it is you're selling, blogging, sharing, or net-casting

and success shinning, hoped-for but never really anticipated success comes your way

I guarantee you someone you know or love come to you and say, "Will you address the graduates

at my college?" And you'll say "Yeah sure, when is it? May 2010? 2010? Yeah sure, that's

months away" and then the nightmare begins. The nightmare we've all had and I assure you,

you'll continue to have even after graduation, 40 years after graduation. About a week before

the due date, you wake up in the middle of the night, "Huh, I have a paper due and I

haven't done the reading, Oh my god!"

If you have been touched by the success fairy, people think you know why. It's true. People think success

breeds enlightenment and you are duty bound to spread it around like manure, fertilize

those young minds, let them in on the secret, what is it that you know that no one else

knows, the self examination begins, one looks inward, one opens an interior door. Cobwebs,

black, the lights bulbs burned out, the airless dank refrigerator of an insanely over-scheduled,

unexamined life that usually just gets take-out. Where is my writer friend, Anna Quindlen when

I need her? On another book tour.

Hello I'm Meryl Streep. Today, Class of 2010... I am really, I am very honored, and

humbled to be asked to pass on tips and inspiration to you for achieving success in this next

part of your lives. President Spar, when I consider the other distinguished medal recipients

and venerable Board of Trustees, the many accomplished faculty and family members...people

who've actually done things, produced things, while I have pretended to do things. I can

think about 3,800 people who should have been on this list before me and you know since

my success has depended wholly on my putting things over on people. So I'm not sure parents

think I'm that great a role model anyway.

I am however an expert in pretending to be an expert in various areas, so just randomly

like everything else in this speech, I am or I was an expert in kissing on stage and

on screen. How did I prepare for this? Well most of my preparation took place in my suburban

high school or rather behind my suburban high school in New Jersey. One is obliged to do

great deal of kissing in my line of work. Air kissing, ass-kissing, kissing up and of

course actual kissing, much like hookers, actors have to do it with people we may not

like or even know. We may have to do it with friends, which, believe it or not is particularly

awkward, for people of my generation, it's awkward.

My other areas of fau expertise, river rafting, miming the effects of radiation poisoning,

knowing which shoes go with which bag, coffee plantation, Turkish, Polish, German, French,

Italian, that's Iowa-Italian from the bridges of Madison county, bit of the Bronx, Aramaic,

Yiddish, Irish clog dancing, cooking, singing, riding horses, knitting, playing the violin,

and simulating steamy sexual encounters, these are some of the areas in which, I have pretended

quite proficiently to be successful, or the other way around. As have many women here,

I'm sure.

Women, I feel I can say this authoritatively, especially at Barnard where they can't hear

us, what am I talking about? They professionally can't hear us. Women are better at acting

than men. Why? Because we have to be, if successfully convincing someone bigger than you are of

something he doesn't know is a survival skill, this is how women have survived through the

millennia. Pretending is not just play. Pretending is imagined possibility. Pretending or acting

is a very valuable life skill and we all do it, all the time. We don't want to be caught

doing it but nevertheless it's part of the adaptations of our species. We change who

we are to fit the exigencies of our time, and not just strategically, or to our own

advantage, sometimes sympathetically, without our even knowing it, for the betterment of

the whole group.

I remember very clearly my own first conscious attempt at acting. I was six placing my mother's

half slip over my head in preparation to play the Virgin Mary in our living room. As I swaddled

my Betsy Wetsy doll I felt quieted, holy, actually, and my transfigured face and very

changed demeanor captured on super-8 by my dad pulled my little brother Harry to play

Joseph and Dana too, a barnyard animal, into the trance. They were actually pulled into

this nativity scene by the intensity of my focus. In my usual technique for getting them

to do what I want, yelling at them never ever would have achieved and I learned something

on that day.

Later when I was nine, I remember taking my mother's eyebrow pencil and carefully drawing

lines all over my face, replicating the wrinkles that I had memorized on the face of my grandmother

whom I adored and made my mother take my picture and I look at it now and of course, I look

like myself now and my grandmother then. But I really do remember in my bones, how it was

possible on that day to feel her age. I stooped, I felt weighted down but cheerful, you know

I felt like her.

Empathy is at the heart of the actor's art. And in high school, another form of acting

took hold of me. I wanted to learn how to be appealing. So I studied the character I

imagined I wanted to be that of the generically pretty high school girl. I researched her

deeply, that is to say shallowly, in Vogue, in Seventeen, and in Mademoiselle Magazines.

I tried to imitate her hair, her lipstick, her lashes, the clothes of the lithesome,

beautiful and generically appealing high school girls that I saw in those pages. I ate an

apple a day, period. I peroxided my hair, ironed it straight. I demanded brand name

clothes, my mother shut me down on that one. But I did, I worked harder on this characterization

really than anyone I think I've ever done since. I worked on my giggle, I lightened

it. Because I like it when it went, kind of "ehuh" and the end, "eheeh" "ehaeaahaha" because

I thought it sounded child like, and cute. This was all about appealing to boys and at

the same time being accepted by the girls, a very tricky negotiation.

Often success in one area precludes succeeding in the other. And along with all my other

exterior choices, I worked on my, what actors call, my interior adjustment. I adjusted my

natural temperament which tends to be slightly bossy, a little opinionated, loud, a little

loud, full of pronouncements and high spirits, and I willfully cultivated softness, agreeableness,

a breezy, natural sort of sweetness, even shyness if you will, which was very, very,

very effective on the boys. But the girls didn't buy it. They didn't like me; they sniffed

it out, the acting. And they were probably right, but I was committed, this was absolutely

not a cynical exercise, this was a vestigial survival courtship skill I was developing.

And I reached a point senior year, when my adjustment felt like me, I had actually convinced

myself that I was this person and she, me, pretty, talented, but not stuck-up. You know,

a girl who laughed a lot at every stupid thing every boy said and who lowered her eyes at

the right moment and deferred, who learned to defer when the boys took over the conversation,

I really remember this so clearly and I could tell it was working, I was much less annoying

to the guys than I had been, they liked me better and I like that, this was conscious

but it was at the same time motivated and fully-felt this was real, real acting.

I got to Vassar which 43 years ago was a single-sex institution, like all the colleges in what

they call the Seven Sisters, the female Ivy League and I made some quick but lifelong

and challenging friends. And with their help outside of any competition for boys my brain

woke up. I got up and I got outside myself and I found myself again. I didn't have to

pretend, I could be goofy, vehement, aggressive, and slovenly and open and funny and tough

and my friends let me. I didn't wash my hair for three weeks once. They accepted me like

the Velveteen Rabbit. I became real instead of an imagined stuffed bunny but I stockpiled

that character from high school and I breathed life into her again some years later as Linda

in the "Deer Hunter." There is probably not one of you graduates who has ever seen this

film but the "Deer Hunter" it won best picture in 1978 Robert De Niro, Chris Walken, not

funny at all. And I played Linda, a small town girl in a working class background, a

lovely, quiet, hapless girl, who waited for the boy she loved to come back from the war

in Vietnam. Often men my age, President Clinton, by the way, when I met him said, Men my age,

mention that character as their favorite of all the women I've played. And I have my

own secret understanding of why that is and it confirms every decision I made in high

school. This is not to denigrate that girl by the way or the men who are drawn to her

in anyway because she's still part of me and I'm part of her. She wasn't acting but she

was just behaving in a way that cowed girls, submissive girls, beaten up girls with very

few ways out have behaved forever and still do in many worlds. Now, in a measure of how

much the world has changed the character most men mention as their favorite is, Miranda

Priestly.

The beleaguered totalitarian at the head of Runway magazine in Devil Wears

Prada. To my mind this represents such an optimistic shift. They relate to Miranda.

They wanted to date Linda. They felt sorry for Linda but they feel like Miranda. They

can relate to her issues, the high standards she sets for herself and others. The thanklessness

of the leadership position. The "Nobody understands me" thing. The loneliness. They stand outside

one character and they pity her and they kind of fall in love with her but they look through

the eyes of this other character. This is a huge deal because as people in the movie

business know the absolute hardest thing in the whole world is to persuade a straight

male audience to identify with a woman protagonist to feel themselves embodied by her. This more

than any other factor explains why we get the movies we get and the paucity of the roles

where women drive the film. It's much easier for the female audience because we were all

grown up brought up identifying with male characters from Shakespeare to Salinger. We

have less trouble following Hamlet's dilemma viscerally or Romeo's or Tybalt or Huck Finn

or Peter Pan -- I remember holding that sword up to Hook -- I felt like him. But it is much

much much harder for heterosexual boys to be able to identify with Juliet or Desdemona, Wendy in

Peter Pan or Joe in Little Women or the Little Mermaid of Pocohontas. Why? I don't know, but

it just is. There has always been a resistance to imaginatively assume a persona, if that

persona is a she. But things are changing now and it's in your generation we're seeing

this. Men are adapting... about time...they are adapting consciously and also without

realizing it for the better of the whole group. They are changing

their deepest prejudices to accept and to regard as normal the things that their fathers would have found

very very difficult and their grandfathers would have abhorred and the door to this emotional

shift is empathy. As Jung said, "Emotion is the chief source of becoming conscious.There

can be no transforming of lightness into dark and apathy into movement without emotion." Or

as Leonard Cohen says, "Pay attention to the cracks because that's where the light gets in."

You, young women of Barnard have not had to squeeze yourself into the corset of being

cute or to muffle your opinions but then you haven't left campus yet. I'm just kidding. What you

have had is the privilege of a very specific education. You are people who may able to

draw on a completely different perspective to imagine a different possibility than women

and men who went to coed schools.

How this difference is going to serve you it's hard to quantify now, it may take you

forty years like it did me to look back and analyze your advantage. But today is about looking forward

into a world where so-called women's issues, human issues of gender inequality live at the

crux of global problems, everyone suffers from poverty to the AIDS crisis to the violent fundamentalist

juntas, human trafficking and human rights abuses and you're going to have the opportunity

and the obligation, by virtue of your providence, to speed progress in all those areas. And

this is a place where even though the need is very great, the news is too. This is your time and it

feels normal to you but really there is no normal. There's only change, and resistance

to it and then more change.

Never before in the history or country have most of the advanced degrees been awarded

to women but now they are. Since the dawn of man, it's hardly more than 100 years since

we were even allowed into these buildings except to clean them but soon most of law

and medical degrees will probably also go to women. Around the world, poor women now

own property who used to be property and according to Economist magazine, for the last two decades,

the increase of female employment in the rich world has been the main driving force of growth.

Those women have contributed more to global GDP growth than have either new technology

or the new giants India or china. Cracks in the ceiling, cracks in the door, cracks in

the Court and on the Senate floor.

You know, I gave a speech at Vassar 27 years ago. It was a really big hit. Everybody loved

it, really. Tom Brokaw said it was the very best commencement speech he had ever heard

and of course I believed this. And it was much easier to construct than this one. It

came out pretty easily because back then I knew so much. I was a new mother, I had two

academy awards and it was all coming together so nicely. I was smart and I understood boiler

plate and what sounded good and because I had been on the squad in high school, earnest

full-throated cheerleading was my specialty so that's what I did. But now, I feel like

I know about 1/16th of what that young woman knew. Things don't seem as certain today.

Now I'm 60, I have four adult children who are all facing the same challenges you are.

I'm more sanguine about all the things that I still don't know and I'm still curious about.

What I do know about success, fame, celebrity that would fill another speech. How it separates

you from your friends, from reality, from proportion. Your own sweet anonymity, a treasure

you don't even know you have until it's gone. How it makes things tough for your family

and whether being famous matters one bit, in the end, in the whole flux of time. I know

I was invited here because of how famous I am and how many awards I've won. And while

I am, I am overweeningly proud of the work that, believe me, I did not do on my own.

I can assure that awards have very little bearing on my own personal happiness. My own