A Class Enrollment Mistake Landed Her in ROTC. Surprisingly, She Stayed

[Rebecca Fitch, fourth-year University of Virginia student, speaking]

Hello, everyone. My name is Rebecca Fitch, and I am a fourth-year here at UVA. And I’m just going to tell you my journey here at UVA.

So, I was a band kid in high school. That’s kind of how I had my friends and where I found my people. I did all sorts of music stuff. No real athletic stuff. No sports, nothing like that.

And when coming to UVA, I knew I wanted to do psychology. I knew I wanted to be a therapist or a psychologist, but I still wanted to keep band in my life at some point. So, I joined the marching band to hopefully make some friends there.

And I came to UVA, and unfortunately, that didn’t work out as well as I hoped. I didn’t feel like I found the community in the band that I had at high school. It wasn’t really clicking for me.

And I didn’t really connect with anyone on my hall or anyone in my classes, and anyone in really anything I did, and it was really hard for me. I felt like I did not have a community here, and I also felt like I didn’t have a purpose.

I wasn’t really helping anyone on a day-to-day basis, and that’s something I wanted to do. And I remember talking to my mom, and she said, “Maybe your people just aren’t in band.” And that was really hard for me to hear, because that had been my people for the past 10 years.

So, I decided to give it another shot and come back for my second year. And when signing up for my classes for my second year, I wanted to load up my schedule. I like to make sure I take advantage of all of UVA’s academic options.

So, I try to do all the credits that they allow. So, in the Arts & Sciences, that’s 17, but marching band takes up two of those credits. And as we know, I wasn’t a big fan of marching band, even though I was trying it again. So, I wanted to overload my schedule and give myself two extra credits to kind of counteract that marching band.

So, I go on to the “lose list.” And for those who don’t know, lose list is a way that students use to sort UVA classes and sort them through any filters that you want. So, I filtered them for all two-credit classes that are offered at UVA, in any school.

And I just went down the list alphabetically, looking for one that either interested me and also fit in my schedule and just wanted to try it out. So, I saw one. There were a lot of kinesiology classes that unfortunately did not fit in my schedule. There was Air Force ROTC, and I was like, “God, no.”

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

There was a lot of research courses, but they weren’t in my field, so I couldn’t do them. And then I land on one called “Leadership and Decision Making,” and I thought, “OK, this could be good. It sounds like an easy A and maybe something where I could learn a few professional skills. But it’ll be a nice additional class for my schedule.” I sign up, forget about it.

And then it’s the summer and professors start emailing you– “These are the textbooks you need. These are the supplies you need for my class.” But I didn’t get anything for my Leadership and Decision Making class.

And then a few weeks before school starts, I start getting these weird texts from numbers I don’t know and they’re claiming to be my squad leader and team leader. And they’re saying things like, you need to come to PT at 6 a.m. on the first day of school, or we need your measurements to get you a uniform.

And that’s when I realized that I had accidentally joined Army ROTC, not a leadership class. So, I thought to myself, “I can either do this or not.” And for some reason, I decided to do it.

And I thought, “OK, I’ll just play along with them for a semester.” Like, “I’ll act like I’m interested in joining the military and I’ll get my easy A.”

So, the first day of school, I go to PT at the park at 5:59 because I wanted to be early. Apparently, one minute early is not early enough for the Army, because a lot of people were yelling and being very crazy about how late I was, and I was very confused.

And then everyone starts running into these boxes of people, into these lines. And I have no clue what’s going on, so I just run and follow them, and I get into one of the lines and they start yelling at me, “You’re in the wrong squad! Get out! You’re not mine!”

And I was so confused. And I was like, “Why is everyone so stressed here?” So. I finally get into my own squad, and they announced that all incoming cadets need to take something called the Army Combat Fitness Test.

And I thought, “Dear Lord.” I had probably gone to the gym about 10 times in my life at this point. So, it was not looking good for me, but I went along with it and I go to do my push-ups. You have to do as many as you can in two minutes, and I can’t even do three. So that was embarrassing.

And I remember my grader said to all the other graders in front of everyone, “This one needs a lot of help.” And I just put my head into the ground and thought, “How did I end up here?”

And that was just PT. I had to go to the actual leadership course I signed up for because I guess the PT was a fun little extra we get to do.

So, I go to the class thinking, “This might be better. I’ll be able to learn about leadership.” Nope, it was a class on war in the Army, which I knew nothing about. Neither of my parents had served, and I had never, ever, ever considered joining the military.

So, I was very in over my head. I don’t think I even knew the difference between the military and the Army. So, it was a little embarrassing, but I stayed. And my peers in RFC definitely teased me a lot for not knowing things, but they also were there with me the whole time.

They took countless hours out of their schedules to help me improve and get to the level I needed to be, and I just went along with it for a while until I realized, “Wait, I love this.” Like, I’m feeling a sense of community here that I hadn’t found before, and it just totally switched something in my brain.

I had these unfair stereotypes about people in the military and what the military was. And then I looked at them. These are just my peers at UVA. Like, these are normal students.

And I remember my mom saying to me, “Rebecca, you found your people,” and I had. They were just in the Army, and I was looking in the wrong place.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

And as this was happening, I look around and I realize, “These people need help, too.” I was noticing these students hadn’t even joined the military yet and I was noticing the repercussions of what that meant to their mental health.

And we all know that the military is underrepresented in the mental health field, but it was affecting cadets. And I know it gets even worse when they become soldiers. And it clicked for me.

I was like, “This is my purpose. I am here to help soldiers and veterans with their mental health.” And it just felt so amazing once I realized that I had found where I was meant to be, and it just happened to be the Army. Something I had never expected.

So, flash forward to today. I’m now the battalion commander of the program, which is the top cadet in charge, which is exciting.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS] [APPLAUSE]

In the spring, I’ll be commissioning as a second lieutenant in the Army Reserves in the Medical Service Corps, which was my first choice, so I’m super excited. And for my civilian career, I hope to go to graduate school and either become a therapist or a psychologist and use that in the military.

I did improve my PT. I was at a 324 out of 600, which is beyond failing. And now, my highest score is a 569 out of 600, which I know means nothing to you guys, but it’s good. So, I’m happy with it.

[APPLAUSE]

And unfortunately, I did not get an A in my easy A class. I got an A-minus, which defeated the whole purpose of doing all of this. So that was a little upsetting, but it’s completely worth it.

I could not be more grateful for this little accident that happened to me. It’s completely changed my life for the better. And I’m so thankful for that.

So, if you’re hearing this and want to take a message out of it, please just jump into something, even if it’s out of your comfort zone or you think you would automatically say no.

Just go with it. And what’s the worst that could happen? You join the Army. It’s not that bad.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

But yeah, I would love to thank you all for listening to me and thank you for President Ryan for inviting me. And I hope you all have a good night.

[APPLAUSE]

[Skylar Dahl, University of Virginia fourth-year student and Olympic silver medalist, speaking]

Good evening, everyone. I was told to put this on, so. Suggested to.

[APPLAUSE]

It is truly an honor to have the opportunity to share my story with you all tonight. Thank you, President Ryan and the rest of your staff, who set this up and made this process pretty seamless for me.

My name is Skylar Dahl, and I was born with bilateral clubfoot.

So that just means that when I was born, my feet were turned inwards and upside down. I’m also a fourth-year student here at UVA on the rowing team, as well as a member of the U.S. national team. So, how did clubfoot get me to where I am today?

Well, at just 5 days old, I had the first of many surgeries to correct my feet. After this came a year of serial casting from my toes to my hips, as well as a fancy set of shoes connected by a metal bar in between.

Spending all this time in hospitals and around doctors, my parents were told over and over again I won’t run. I won’t jump. I’ll be grateful just to walk without too much support.

And for some strange reason, I wanted to do the one thing I was told I couldn’t. I wanted to run. I wanted to jump, to play those hard-impact sports that doctors said wouldn’t be a good idea. I just wanted to compete.

So, I found soccer and basketball, and I excelled at both of them for many years. I trained hard and often with the goal of attending college on an athletic scholarship for basketball. But then, the pain started.

Like I said, I’d been able to play for many years without the pain, until it had gotten to the point that the hard impact and the constant pressure on the hard gym floors just wore my feet down. It had reached the point that my growing bones had nowhere to go but against each other.

But I just kept playing through the pain because I wanted to play so bad. That was just what I knew. That was my life until the bones started breaking.

So, then came more surgeries, placing pins to bring my bones back together. And I recovered through months of rest and rehab, and I headed back to the court. And then they broke again.

And at this point, I’m in the ninth grade with college prospects on the horizon. I had visited schools, met with coaches, was being considered for Division I offers. But now, I’m having to face the toughest decision yet.

I can no longer play basketball because my feet just wouldn’t allow it. I am having to turn my jersey into the coach’s office with tears in my eyes, having to quit the sport I loved, even quit athletics altogether– or find the next great sport.

And I should have known that when one door closes, another one opens. Because through all of this, I come to find that my neighbor had been following along, and she said to me, “You’re tall, you’ve got long arms. Go row.”

I knew nothing about the sport. I’m from Minnesota. It’s really not a thing up there. But I had maybe seen it on TV once during the Olympics. But I said, “Sure, why not?”

So, that next spring break, my family and I drove down to South Carolina, and we got in a boat. We all did, actually. We all got in a boat just to try it for a few days.

And then came back home to Minnesota, and I found one of just a few small clubs in the state. And I had found it, the next sport for me. Come February of 2020, my parents and I hopped in the car, drove from small-town Circle Pines, Minnesota, to the Grounds of Charlottesville.

On my first visit to Grounds, I was met with an emotional moment. Coach Kevin Sauer had just received news that the approaching spring season would be over due to the pandemic, and he would have to go and deliver that news to his team.

That same afternoon, he introduced me to the team, and I remember being amazed, thinking, “Wow, these are athletes. This is all I’ve ever wanted.” And then I witnessed him share this heartbreaking news to a huddle of 60 athletes.

That revealed to me how big of a deal this was, how strongly these young people felt about a program and a place. And this unexpected visit solidified my decision to come to UVA.

Fast forward two years, Coach Kevin said to me, “Sky, you want to check out para, para-rowing?”

I had never heard of this. I didn’t know what it meant. I certainly didn’t know that it would lead to some of the most unique experiences of my life.

So, I looked into it and that same year, I met three other college rowers, all with clubfoot. And it blew my mind because I had gone 19 years without meeting another clubfooter and now, I get to row with them.

So, because of that intro, I found myself on the U.S. national team. Traveled the world in ways I never dreamed. Rode on some of the most beautiful bodies of water and won a silver medal at the Paralympic Games in Paris this summer with some of my best friends, my “clubbies.”

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

[APPLAUSE]

This experience, being on the para national team, has given me a voice, a chance to really know myself. I’m now able to express the absolute me and be fearless in sharing that with you. I have come to terms with this thing called a disability.

We talk a lot about disability advocacy and the Paralympic revolution, but for me, the word “disability” wasn’t something that I had growing up. I wasn’t disabled. I just happened to be born with a challenge for me to overcome.

Now, I have a physical disability, but I’ve never really felt that it kept me from doing what I wanted. And now that it’s somewhat of a lie, as I shared, because in some ways it did keep me from doing what I wanted.

I still feel the pain from time to time, and I’m reminded of how far I’ve come. I’m reminded of how hard I worked to get things right, rather than what seemed to go wrong. Before I even knew it, I was finding ways to make sport, competition, life doable and succeed in all the ways I wanted.

Through my 21 years, I have learned to walk through the door, try the sport, take the chance, feel those nerves and push myself. I will never have regret for the things I risked, the pain I felt, the blood, sweat, tears it took to get to where I am today.

So, what is it that makes you uniquely you? Whatever that thing is, embrace it, own it and be unafraid to talk about it. Because when I finally owned it and decided to talk about it, I didn’t do so for 19 years. I didn’t do so because I had fear that it would put me in a box and keep me from what I wanted.

But when I was ready to, when I was ready to own it and talk about it, I found a welcoming community. And I had much of that welcoming community all along. My family and some of my best friends and Coach Kevin are here supporting me.

So, find those people to relate to, find those people to be inspired by, because there is a powerful, meaningful place for all of us. Thank you.

[APPLAUSE]

[Kenyon Bonner, Vice President and Chief Student Affairs Officer speaking]

[Audio missing] … on January 27, 2021. He was a great man and a great father, and I miss him. When my mother was pregnant with me, her doctor recommended that she terminate her pregnancy. She had an ulcer.

According to him, a miscarriage was inevitable, and he gave her three days to decide my fate. Now, I hope none of you are sitting here thinking to yourself, “I wonder what his mother decided.” So, I’m my parents’ firstborn, the oldest of three, and I like to consider myself the love child.

You know, that child that was conceived at the height of their parents’ romance and passion, right? So, in my mind, this is how I was conceived. I’ll keep it G-rated.

So, my parents were sitting down eating a TV dinner. This is the ‘70s. They’re watching the “Soul Train,” and as Don Cornelius signs off the “Soul Train,” they look at each other and they head to the bedroom.

And before they can get into the bedroom, they pass through those beaded curtains, and the room is lit by a lava lamp. And in the background is a soulful sound of Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together.” And they look at each other and there was a twinkle in their eye. And then nine months later, your ‘70s love child.

We grew up on the corner of East 112th Street and Benham on the East Side of Cleveland. My neighborhood was not great, but it was home. When I was a young kid, I saw a lot, probably a lot that a child shouldn’t see.

On one evening, I heard a loud crash. I ran to the window in our dining room, which was sort of like a panoramic window. I looked out the window and I saw two cars had collided and one was fully engulfed in flames. I don’t know if anyone survived that, but I can still feel the heat from the flames on the side of my face.

On another night, three hit men exited a vehicle and approached one of our neighbors. He was heading into his home. They opened fire and killed him. He lay there lifeless on the lawn. I can still hear those gunshots.

By the time I was 6 years old, our house had been burglarized several times. And I remember feeling angry, confused and anxious, and also annoyed. Annoyed because my parents loved music, and my father had this record collection, and I had recently fallen in love with one particular record.

It was a 45 LP of “Dancing Machine” by the Jackson 5, and they stole it. And I remember thinking, “I no longer feel safe in this house. I didn’t feel secure.” And to this day, when I sleep, I never sleep too deep. I never sleep too long. I’m always on edge and I sleep with the proverbial one eye open.

Now, after the second burglary, my parents acquired a shotgun. And whenever my father would go to work, my mother would carry that shotgun with her. She would have my sister in one arm, the shotgun in her right hand.

And then I’d be tagging along, holding on to whatever piece of clothing I could, and my mother would look back at me, and she would say, “Stay close, son.” And that went on for a while. It went on for so long that everyone in the neighborhood started calling my mother “shotgun lady.”

[LAUGHTER]

When my sister and I would go outside and play in front of the house, I would look back on the porch and there was my mother and her shotgun. Before I went to kindergarten, my parents had made a decision that they were going to send me to a suburban school district.

They sent me to Cleveland Heights school district, where my grandmother lived with her husband. And they would get me up every morning at the crack of dawn. They would get me dressed, I would eat breakfast, and both of them would drive me seven miles to the suburban school district, drop me off at my grandmother’s house, then I would walk to school with my aunt and uncle. And they did that every day.

At the end of the school day, after my father got off of work, they would come pick me up and take me back to our home in Cleveland. They did that every day for two years.

At some point, I think the Cleveland Heights school district kind of realized that I didn’t live with my grandmother and sent me back to Cleveland Public Schools. And I don’t know what it was – maybe my parents had some premonition, or they had some knowledge, but they knew that if they had sent me to Cleveland Public Schools, my education would have been disrupted.

In 1978 and ’79, the Cleveland Public Schools went on strike for two years, two consecutive years, for several months. The teachers’ union in Cleveland had two issues. One was teachers’ pay, and the other issue in the district was desegregation.

They sent me back to Cleveland Public Schools. They were on strike. And I remember my mother being at these school board meetings, and I know she was passionate about something. I didn’t quite understand what was going on.

But one day, I mustered up the courage to ask my mother. I said, “Mama, what’s a strike?” And my mother said, “A strike, son, is when they close the schools and you can’t go to school.”

And as a young child, I thought to myself, “Yes! I don’t have to go to school.” But my parents had enough, and they said, “You know what? We’re going to take matters into our own hands.”

And so my parents went out to this teachers’ store, and they bought a bunch of school supplies, and my mother home-schooled me and my sister for several months. And it was a real structured day.

We’d wake up in the morning. We’d have breakfast. We’d have homeroom. We’d had subjects like I had – English, math, reading, all the nine. We would have lunch and then my mother would give us recess.

And the difference between recess at school and the recess at home is that when I was at school, the teachers who watched us for recess did not have a shotgun.

[LAUGHS]

So eventually, my grandmother moved to South Carolina, and they offered for my parents to live in their house, for rent. And I remember thinking to myself when I became a parent, it must have been very difficult for my mother and father to not feel a sense of peace of mind, raising young kids and being newlyweds.

And I asked her one day, how it felt to be a parent where you didn’t have that peace of mind, and you had to carry a shotgun for safety. And my mother looked at me, and she said, “Son, that shotgun was all the peace I needed.”

And so, I said, “Hmm, that’s interesting.” When we went to live at my grandparents’ house, I didn’t really understand what was going on. I was like, “This doesn’t make sense. Let me get this straight.

“You send me to a school district that I don’t go to, and you tell me that I have to lie to the teachers to tell them that I live with my grandparents. You also pick me up every morning and take me to this school district seven miles and then bring me back at the end of the day, and you do that for two years.

“And now, we are moving to my grandparents’ house, and the rent is three times what you pay now.” And I always saw this as not making sense. And I talked to my mother one day, and I said, “All my life, I’ve always appreciated the sacrifices that you and my father made to provide an opportunity for my sister and my brother, eventually.”

And I said, “It must have been tough to sacrifice your well-being and your financial health and all the things that you would expect to have as a young couple. You sacrificed those things for us to be successful and have an opportunity.”

And my mother looked at me, and she said, “You know, son, your father and I never saw those things as a sacrifice. We never saw providing an opportunity for you to get a good education. We never saw putting you in an environment where you would be safe, and you would survive. We never saw any of those things as a sacrifice.”

It was profound. She said what it was, was a labor of love. And I thought to myself, how does that impact my life? And what does that mean to me?

And I often think about, when people ask me, “Why do you do what you do, Kenyon? Why do you work in higher education and more specifically, student affairs?”

And they say things like this: “I could never do your jobs.” “You have the worst job on campus.” “It’s really difficult.” And most importantly – and this is the funniest one – “How in the world do you deal with all those students?”

And I say to them, I say, “Yes, my job can be challenging. Yes, it is difficult at times. And yes, sometimes it’s even heartbreaking. And those are the things that I experience, and people in my role experience throughout their career.”

I said, “but there are more rewards than the challenges and that’s why I do what I do.”

I was recently talking to someone, and they asked me, “Why did you choose UVA, and why did you choose to work in higher education?”

And this is what I told them. I said, “Every day I have the privilege to work in an environment where I feel like I’m working in my purpose. I do a job where I get an opportunity to invest in people, to invest in a future, a future that I may not even see.

“Much like you plant a tree and you don’t have the ability in many cases to marvel at its beauty when it’s fully grown, you don’t get to reap the benefits of the sweetness of its fruit, and you may not even experience the coolness of its shade, but you know deep down, that somebody will.”

I said, “I work in an environment where you don’t necessarily get immediate return on your investments. You never really know that all the work and everything that you’ve done is going to make a difference in someone’s life or even in the world.

“You do it with this sense of faith, greater purpose. That’s why I do what I do.”

And the person looked at me, and they put their hand on my arm, and they said to me, “What you just described is God’s work.”

And so, I stand before you today, a young, Black boy from the East Side of Cleveland, Ohio, a first-generation college student, who stands on the shoulders of his parents, who, through their labor of love, provided an opportunity for me, my sister and my brother to learn, to grow to survive and ultimately thrive.

And when people ask me what my legacy should be, I tell them this. That I hope that through my labor of love, I will have an opportunity to help people learn more about themselves, learn more about each other, and more about the world. And through all those things, find something in their life that is meaningful and purposeful.

My gratitude is to my parents for teaching that and exemplifying that throughout my entire life. And what I have always understood as a sacrifice was their labor of love.

My name is Kenyon Bonner. I serve as the vice president and chief student affairs officer at the University of Virginia. And this is my labor of love. Thank you.

[APPLAUSE]

[Abhishek Kulkarni, Darden School of Business doctoral student, speaking]

Hi, guys. So, my name is Abhishek. I do a Ph.D. here at Darden. I want to start you guys off with a joke. What do you put in a barrel to make it leak? The answer is “a hole.”

It’s a lame joke. It’s one which will probably never end up on any Netflix special anytime in the near future, but as a 6-year-old, this was one of my favorites.

My mom told me this joke. She did so very often. She used to come back home from work every evening. Me, as this excited 6-year-old, would wait for her, not for dinner or what happened at work. None of it.

I was waiting for her to just take out a piece of paper from her purse, which had a series of jokes written on it, which she had collected throughout the day.

She took this task very seriously because this was in the ‘90s and Yahoo Mail was a big thing, and my mom had signed up to nearly every Yahoo mailing subscription list for jokes.

In the middle of all of her work, she would meticulously go through this tirade of emails that would show up in her inbox and note down 10 jokes that she could tell her 6-year-old.

Every evening, Mom came home. I sat there like this king on his throne, waiting for this jester to entertain him. And my mom did. She took this very seriously.

I mean, she literally had to tolerate maybe, like, 500 notifications in her mailbox every day just to give me, like, 10 jokes – which I would then critique, by the way. But that joke about the hole that was one of my favorites.

I think the reason that was a big deal to me was that joke did not harm anybody. It did not disparage any community, did not speak some truth to power.

All that joke did was make me laugh, and that was enough. I think laughter to me is the ultimate superpower. To be able to make a room full of people laugh is the best thing in the world.

I tried it often. The jokes that my mom told me the night before, I would take and recite to my friends the very next day, eagerly waiting for that one bit of laughter. Some jokes worked. Most didn’t because they were Yahoo Mail forwards. What can you expect?

But the jokes that worked, as the moment they did, the moment I heard that bit of laughter burst in that room, I felt like I had won that day. Look, it’s such an important feeling to me, just like capturing that moment.

It’s the purest form of joy when you hear this cacophony of laughter in a room. That’s music to my ears. I have tremendously admired so many individuals in my life who have been able to make a room laugh.

In high school, my chemistry teacher taught me the entire periodic table by just giving me funny sentences to remember the entire thing. I still remember some of these sentences. I can tell you one of them. It’s in Hindi, but the translation is equally funny.

It’s Helena [SPEAKING HINDI].

That’s the first column in the periodic table. It literally translates to Helena has escaped her grave. Hydrogen, lithium, sodium, potassium, silicon, rubidium and francium. I still remember that just because my chemistry teacher was funny that day.

I genuinely admired my classmate in economics class who found the most hilarious sentences in our economics textbook as soon as they’re taken out of context. Elasticity of demand was our favorite chapter. I’m still friends with that man today.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

Growing up, I wasn’t fascinated by Superman or Batman or Spider-Man as much as I was fascinated by that lady who sang that song about the smelly cat. Phoebe Buffay was my hero.

Genuinely, I feel like humor has this power to remind us that we can agree on a lot of things. We agree a lot more than we care to admit. Humor unites us in a way, in such a pure way, that very few other things can.

Because when a room full of people laughs, in that moment, nobody is concerned about what is different about each one of them, what divides them. All they’re concerned about is we all agree this moment, this thing, is funny. And that’s such a powerful feeling.

Honestly, just being able to find that one thing that will unite a room full of people in this cacophony of laughter has been a big goal in my life. In fact, that’s one of the reasons as soon as I graduated, I gave up a fairly lucrative career in investment banking to pursue stand-up comedy full time.

Did not make any money for the first two years, but the amount of laughs I got, that’s how I paid my mortgages, guys. No, but honestly, that’s been my brand of humor for a long time. I’ve always looked out for those things that unite, and that’s what got me here to Charlottesville, in fact.

One of the first reasons why I picked UVA, of the three or four other interviews that I did, was that this interview, I had that feeling of camaraderie. And just by virtue of having a half an hour conversation, we indulged in a bit of laughter.

There was a bit of banter there. That was more important than any other statistic or ranking could have informed me about anything else, literally. And when I moved here, when I moved to Charlottesville, I immediately looked out for some sort of open mic that I could do.

I wanted to, again, start finding humor once more. Found an open mic at the Southern in Downtown Mall. Great place, by the way. You guys should all go.

Every Monday night, I made it a point to show up for three minutes of stage time. Just three minutes. Three minutes that I used to look forward to every single week. I still do.

Because in those three minutes, I can see the purest form of joy in that room. I can see genuine laughter. I see people from all walks of life. We have war vets; we have plumbers; we have firemen; we have electricians, bus drivers, Ph.D. students, lawyers, bankers, everybody.

All of them are there under one roof with one single purpose – to make patrons laugh. Soon enough, UVA Today caught wind of this, that there’s this Ph.D. student who goes and does open mics at a bar in Charlottesville, and I received an email asking for whether they would be able to interview me about it.

At first, I thought it was a scam. Then I verified the email address. I’m like, no, this is legit. Andrew Ramsperger, who was actually in the room today, he got in touch with me and he’s like, “Let’s have a conversation.”

We met at Bodo’s Bagels; great breakfast. Genuinely one of my favorites in Charlottesville. We sat down, had a long conversation about why humor was important to me, why I did what I did, why I pursued comedy, why I got into research.

In fact, my research right now is examining the role of humor in management. I don’t know why that’s important, but give me five years.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

But Andrew, after the conversation, had an idea that, “Hey, why don’t we film you doing stand-up?” Now, I expected one camera on me for three minutes of stage time, and that’s about it.

But over the next few weeks, Kelly West, who is also here today, behind the camera right there, she not only came to my shows to record me, she came to watch me work on my material. She watched me in classes. She watched me having banter with my friends at social events.

And she meticulously put together this documentary that showed me in the most amazing light. Like, I believed I was a superstar. That’s probably how I got here today.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

But this article and this documentary, as soon as it was released, it had a rather strange impact on my life. I started to get emails from very interesting people. I started to get recognized on the streets here when I went for my Bodo’s order or when I got a Roots bowl.

It was a strange feeling. And one interesting email that I received was from one of the event organizers of the class of ’74 at Darden. They were having their 50th anniversary of their MBA. I have not celebrated the 50th of anything in my life.

Exactly, yes. And I had genuinely the best time just engaging in humor with these people who have probably lived more than twice the years that I have any kind of experience of, and it was such a magical feeling. Just across maybe two generations, we were able to connect with each other just by virtue of some laughter.

Another thing happened after the documentary and the article came out, which was I received an envelope at my door. Now, this envelope contained the birthday card for a 3-year-old. I don’t know why they make those. Three-year-olds can’t read.

But it was a 3-year-old’s birthday card with a message from a mechanical engineer from the class of ’85. He started with, “I used to do stand-up while I was living here at UVA, and I want you to know that this card choice was intentional, and I hope you appreciate it.”

It made no point, but it made me laugh. He had a very nice, endearing message that followed. But the fact that an MBA from a mechanical engineer from the class of ‘85 was able to reach across all of these years with a simple gesture like a card to make me laugh – that’s a testament for laughter to build bridges, right?

If I had to leave you guys with just one message, it’s this: Indulge in laughter. Indulge that little part of your brain that wants to burst out into laughter every day, no matter what else you do.

See, laughter does not have to make a point. A lot of jokes show a mirror up to society. Show some sort of truth to some power, but they don’t have to.

All laughter does for us is remind us that we are human beings, and I think that’s enough. And that’s my story, guys. Thank you so much.

[APPLAUSE]

[Amanda Pillion, University of Virginia Board of Visitors member, speaking]

OK. Wow, I get to follow the comedian. So, anyway, my name is Amanda Pillion. I’m a member of the Board of Visitors. I’m also an audiologist.

I’m the mayor of my town of Abingdon, Virginia. I serve on several boards and commissions that are statewide, local. I serve on a lot of things in my community. I’m a daughter. I’m a sister.

Most importantly, I’m a mother. I have four amazing kids. They’re my greatest accomplishments. Two of them are here today. They’re both current Hoos, so I’m very proud to have them here. My mother is here with me also.

I know my kids might just be here because they’re going to get taken out to dinner afterward, and that’s OK. I’m glad they’re here anyway.

So, I’ve fallen into a lot of these roles by chance and by circumstance.

I have two degrees from UVA and I’m an audiologist, but I don’t really work as an audiologist very much anymore.

And so when I was asked to speak here tonight, and because of a lot of other things that have happened to me over the past few months, I started thinking about my road to leadership and how it hasn’t been very direct and how a lot of the ways that I’ve fallen into leadership have been because I’m a mother and because I’m a woman, and about how those choices as a woman and as a mother have brought me to where I am today.

And it’s all been kind of unexpected.

So, I was born in a small town in southwest Virginia, in Tazewell County, which a lot of people have probably never heard of, and I went to a small high school. I’m the oldest of three girls.

And all those stories about birth order are kind of correct when it comes to me. I’m kind of bossy. I’m kind of an overachiever. I like to be in charge. But I grew up in this household with a father who was a football coach. He had been a football coach.

And it’s probably a good thing that he never had any boys. But he coached us as hard as he coached any athletes he ever had. If we made a 95 on a test, he wanted to know why we didn’t make 100. Only perfect was good enough.

And as a child, I resented that. But as an adult, I respect it and I appreciate it and I’ve probably pushed some of that onto my own children over the years.

But my mother was equally tough on us, in the best way possible.

She was constantly going back to school to get another certification or to further her education. She was an educator. But any time I wanted to stay home from school, she would say, “Get up, put on your lipstick, get dressed, go to school, go to your first-period class. If you can’t make it, you can come home.”

What I learned from that is you don’t call in sick. You can power through. I’ve probably called in sick a handful of times in my life. You just go. You just do what you have to do. You can do it.

So, they pushed me and I ended up at UVA as a first-year student. I was a small fish in a big pond. I quickly learned that everybody was smarter than me. Everybody was worldlier than I was. It wasn’t the world that it is now. It was a small world.

I mean, I came from a small world. We didn’t have the internet. You didn’t know about what clothes everybody else was wearing or what music everybody else listened to. And so, I felt a little out of place. I was a little overwhelmed.

I told President Ryan on my first day when I was appointed to the Board of Visitors, that if you had told me that I would be serving on the board or I would be here when I was a first-year at UVA, a long time ago, I would have laughed at you. I didn’t join things. I wasn’t outgoing in that way.

So, my very first day at UVA, I had a suitemate who was from another part of Virginia who said, “When I heard you talking, I didn’t understand how you were a student here because I didn’t think someone who talked like you could be smart enough to be at UVA.”

Well, I made it through my four years, so she was wrong. And when I was in grad school, I had an amazing professor who offered me accent reduction therapy. Obviously, I didn’t take it.

So, I think it gives me character. I like the way I talk. It’s fine. It’s fine. I found my way. I stuck it out. I got up every morning. I put on my lipstick. I got dressed. I went to class.

It took me a little while. I joined a sorority. I took on some small leadership roles in my sorority. And then, in my fourth year, I served on the Honor Committee. I made my way through, and I decided to stay here to pursue my master’s degree.

And there’s not an audiology program here now, but there was when I was in school here, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I wanted to stay in this place. All of you know what a magical place UVA is and what a special place that we have here.

So, I stayed, and I graduated. And I went to work at the VA Medical Center near my house, and I did research for the National Institutes of Health and the World Health Organization. But I was also married, and then I had four kids, and I had them pretty quick.

So, all of a sudden, I had four kids under the age of 7, and my husband, who is a natural leader, had practices all over northeast Tennessee and Southwest Virginia. And then he decided to become a politician, and that meant that he wasn’t home a lot.

So, I made the choice to give up my career and to stay home with my kids. And that’s not always the best choice for everybody, but it was the best choice for me at the time because if someone pukes in the cafeteria, somebody has to show up.

And so, I showed up, and I chose to support my husband in his endeavors in that way, and I did that for a long time. And I found ways to be involved in my community because I would be frustrated. I would be bored.

And so, one day I found myself president of the elementary school PTA, and that might be the most formative leadership experience that I have ever had.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

I had never made a budget before. I had never made an agenda. I had to plan events. I had to get community sponsorships.

And let me tell you, wrangling a roomful of high-strung parents, that’s a learning experience. It takes some skill. I learned about the art of a timed agenda. I learned to navigate a conversation out of the realm of chaos, sometimes with snacks. Whatever it took, let’s get back on track.

But it was very educational for me. And so I did that for a while. And then, my husband started to work out of town a lot more. He was elected to the legislature, and he was gone for several months out of the year, and I was in charge of our household.

And then a businessman in our town decided to donate a large portion of land for a sports complex. And you would think that people in our town would have been excited, and most of them were, and I was. I had kids who played baseball. I had kids who played soccer. We needed those fields.

But there was a group in our town who thought that was not a good use of the land. They wanted the land to remain untouched. I had a good friend. Our town was founded in 1778. She was only the second female mayor in the history of Abingdon.

So, my friend Kathy Lowe called me, and she said, “I need you to come to Town Council, and I need you to talk about these sports fields. I need you to advocate for the fields as a parent.” And I said, “Sure, I’ll do that.”

So, I did, and I did it again, and I did it again, and things got pretty controversial. I had to be escorted out of a meeting by the police chief because people were that mad about baseball fields. So, the baseball fields were prepared, but they were never built.

And then in the spring of 2020, right in the middle of the COVID pandemic, my friend Kathy Lowe, the former mayor, said, “You need to run for Town Council.” And I didn’t want to do it at first, but I got on board.

And my kids didn’t want me to do it at first. They said, “Mom, you have so much on your plate. This is a lot. You’re taking on a lot.” And we had a family meeting, and I said, “I really, really want to do this. It’s important to me. Your father is able to change lives. He’s able to give back to the community in so many ways, and it’s my turn to make a tangible change in my world.”

So I ran for Town Council in the middle of the COVID epidemic, and my kids helped me.

Virginia sat with me, and we called every one of the 5,000 registered voters in Abingdon and asked them to vote for me. So I was elected, and the ballfields were completed within the year.

So, we have this beautiful sports complex. We have all of these other community enhancements, and it’s amazing.

And then I became mayor. And that has been another huge learning experience.

I am only the third female mayor in our town’s 250-year history. It’s not the same as parenting. I don’t have dirty diapers, but I have a sewer system that I have to run. I know a lot about the sewer system.

People get upset about the craziest things. They get upset about trees. They get upset about deer. Every day is a new experience. But I love it, and I love my town, and I love the fact that I’m able to serve.

Eventually, in the fall of 2021, Gov. Glenn Youngkin was running for office, and I joined my husband in campaigning for him, and he saw something in me. And I have told him many times, “You are the person who’s put me on the path that I’m on today.”

He asked me to serve on his leadership of his transition team that helped hire all the people who worked for him. And I hadn’t interviewed people in a very long time, so I found myself doing Zoom interviews and helping to choose people who he hired.

And then, he appointed me to serve on the Board of Visitors at UVA. And I mean, wow, I got a little geeky. I mean, all of you love this university, so you know where I’m coming from.

Every time I get to have dinner in the dining room, I get butterflies. Every time we have a meeting in the boardroom, I get a little excited. This isn’t something I ever saw myself doing.

I mean, I am speaking in Thomas Jefferson’s Rotunda. Who am I? How did this happen? I’m not really sure. It hasn’t come without its challenges, though.

This fall, a journalist wrote an article about me and basically criticized my leadership skills. I was criticized because I lead in a quieter, calmer way than a lot of people think I should. I think that comes from the lessons I’ve learned from being a mother.

Another journalist said that my only apparent qualification for the job was that my husband is a sitting state senator. I mean, it’s 2024. I’m a woman. There are lots of other qualifications besides who I’m married to.

My husband supports me in everything I do. He gives me wise counsel, he gives me encouragement, but I earned my spot on the board myself. And I’m very proud to serve on the Board of Visitors at UVA. It’s one of the highlights of my life.

I was told by another board member once, “You don’t have the experience. You need to sit back and listen, and you need to speak in a few years when you have learned some things.” And I told this person very respectfully, “I value your counsel, but I have things to say.

“The governor sent me here. I have a job to do. If I feel like something I have to say is going to benefit the students of this University, I’m going to say it. I’m sorry if you don’t like that. I’m sorry if we don’t agree. We can still be friends, but I have a voice, and I’m going to use my voice.”

So, what I want to say is that women can do whatever they want to do. And I want to say this to my daughter, Virginia, who’s here, and I want to say it to all the other young women who might be listening and all the other young men who have women in their lives.

Because you can do all the things you want to do. You can be a mom. You can put your life on hold, and you can raise amazing children who are going to change the world in ways we haven’t even seen.

It’s like that tree that you plant. I may not see all the fruit of my tree, but I know that I’ve done the best I can do to plant it. You can put your career on hold, and you can have another whole career. You can do anything you want to do.

So just take advantage of the opportunities that you’ve been given, look out for all the things along the way that you might learn from and just keep going. Put on your lipstick. Go to work. Don’t call in sick. Do what you need to do.

And then one day, who knows the ways that you can change the world? I don’t know what I’m going to be when I grow up yet. I can’t wait to see. So, thank you all for having me here tonight, and I appreciate you.

[APPLAUSE]

[Famina Ariyanto, University of Virginia student, speaking]

Hi, everyone. My name is Fatima Ariyanto. I usually go by Ariyan. So going after a mayor, that’s quite a responsibility, but we can do this.

So, the day that I got an email from Jim Ryan asking me to perform tonight, I was a bit confused. I made sure that the signature really said “President of the University of Virginia.” How did the man know I existed?

I’m just a normal student. I’m not a mayor, nor am I an Olympian, so I was a bit baffled. But I told myself I had quite a story to tell. The only thing that popped to my mind was, “Well, I do have three part-time jobs. Maybe he heard of one of them. You never know.”

But as for my story, my mother came to the United States in 2007, and I joined her in 2013. I remember the day that I landed from JFK. I was holding onto the flight attendant’s hand, and I also had this small suitcase that held all my memories of my past life in Burkina Faso.

For those who don’t know, it is a West African country. And as I looked across the airport, I made eye contact with this dark-skinned woman. She had a beautiful smile, and I only had one memory of her, but I knew in that moment that must be my mom.

So, the flight attendant handed me off to her and I then realized I was in a new country with a new language, depending on a woman that I barely knew. What could go wrong?

A couple of weeks after I landed, I was immediately put back in school. Now, this came to my surprise, considering I was under the impression that this was just a quick family reunion. You say “hi” to your long-lost mother; then you go back to playing in the dirt in Africa. Nothing wrong with that.

That was not the case. So I started, I believe, in fourth grade, and I didn’t complain. I walked back from school alone; I warmed up the leftovers and I patiently waited for my mom to come back home.

Now, sometimes she’ll take a bit longer to get back home. Five minutes would pass by, 10, 15. By 20, my mind was spiral. I would start wondering, “Where is she? Is she OK?”

And my priority has always been her safety, but a small part of me felt guilty because I wondered what would happen to me. I had no nobody. The year after I came through U.S., my father and my stepmother had passed away back home, so I knew that I had nowhere to go back to, and that marked the start of my adulthood.

As a 10-year-old, that’s not a normal thought, but that’s when I realized that I really had to start investing in myself. It was the beginning of self-development, self-advocacy, self-care and self-love. And I started rooting my dreams in my education.

I knew that it was the most direct path for me, and it was something that I was really passionate about. I told myself that I wanted to make sure that if one day I didn’t make it home, at least I could be satisfied knowing that my life had an impact.

When middle school came along, I tried my best. Within less than three years, I was speaking English fluently. And from there on, I really wanted to get inside the E class in eighth grade. Now the E class was the gifted student class and of course, I wanted to be in there.

And when they told me “no,” I was frustrated. I started complaining a lot, like any 12-year-old would. I was going into the guidance office for days, weeks. Within a month, I would switch, but it wasn’t because I complained.

Now, there was this other girl who was in the same situation as me and she simply got her mother to come in. She yelled a few words in the office, and just like that, she got switched. African parents don’t yell in public, so I cannot use that trick.

And despite the complaining, I realized later on that it was actually one teacher who spoke for me to be switched. I never had that teacher before and it was the first time that somebody I didn’t know stood up for me.

When high school came along, I started excelling. I was doing my best. I was in the building from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., doing all types of extracurriculars, student council, all of them that I’m not doing now, which I was a bit confused as to why I got selected.

But it worked back in those days, it carried along. And that same year, I believe 2021, I graduated at the age of 16. And that’s the same year that my mother decided to go back to college. I was so proud of her for making this big step, but it also meant that there was no college fund for me.

College is expensive. So, I decided to look for scholarships. And I had this teacher, my favorite art teacher, Ms. Mora, who wrote me the most wonderful letters of recommendation.

She wrote me this letter that gave me a scholarship, where I met this couple that just offered to help me with my education. They did not know me. They did not know my story.

They just knew that well, this kid made it here. There must be something in her. And that was enough for them.

Considering all of that, you would think that I would no longer have three part-time jobs, but I kept them because I’m looking for a master’s in construction management. Now, masters are also expensive. So, like, I need another miracle couple to pop up in my life.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

You know. And as I’m currently applying for my master’s, I have this wonderful professor who I had my first year of undergrad– only one semester, didn’t interact too much– but he has been such an anchor for me as I’m going through this process.

I would say that working three part-time jobs has made me really admire staff. It made me look up to faculty, dining hall staff, every single position, which a worker is putting their day-to-day effort to just facilitating other individuals. Being on the other side made me really value the effort that goes into it.

I would say that my favorite staff so far has been the dining hall staff. They are wonderful people. You should truly try to just have conversation with them.

I remember my fourth year, when I came back, I made eye contact with one of them in the back, and from there on, we just ran toward each other. We neglected an entire line of students in front of us and just got a lot of hug. You know, sometimes you just have to hug your staff.

[AUDIENCE LAUGHS]

I got way too comfortable with them because remember one time, I was casually talking about religion with another as he was making my eggs. Just another Sunday, frankly speaking.

But at the end of the day, I just want to thank God for giving me the strength to dream big and for providing people in my path when I thought that I had nobody. Thank you.

[APPLAUSE]

[Stanley Stepanic, University of Virginia assistant professor, speaking]

I’m going to get a prop. OK. I’ve been eyeing up this chair. All right, jeez. I’m the last one. I told my wife; I want to be first or last. Got last. All right, I got to do good.

All right. So, I was real confused, too, when I got this email. I was like, “Oh, wow, President Ryan wants me to talk.” I was like, “I must be something.”

But who am I? How did I get here? How did I end up here? The question sometimes students ask me is, “You’re so successful.” I’m like, “Oh. Yeah, all right.” “How did you get here? How did you get to this point?”

Well, I can remember two years ago, a former student of mine, he was one of the football players, actually. He met me randomly around Grounds right before graduation. And he was like, “Hey, I just want to say something to you, Professor Stepanic.”

And I was like, “Oh yeah? What’s that?” He’s like, “You inspired me.” And I was like, “Oh.” I’m like, “Why is that?” He’s like, “You know, you just got up there, making me laugh. And the way you taught, that inspired me to be an educator. And, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve just got a fellowship for master’s,” he told me.

I was like, “Wow.” And it’s one of those great moments you get as an educator every once in a while, which is this investment that comes later where you’re like, “Oh wow, that one student, at least, I know was touched by me.”

So how did I get here? I’ve been through difficulties, too. How did I end up here? Who am I? So, I think back to a really important moment in my life, and some of you may actually have heard this story, but that’s OK.

I can say it goes back to Cub Scouts, actually. I was involved in Scouting just a little bit. And there’s some pictures that you’re passing around here, and one of those is very important. It has me sitting down on this wooden bench in this outdoor amphitheater, and I’ll explain that.

So, I was in Cub Scouts. I did some Boy Scouts, too. But when I was in Cub Scouts, around, it was about 6 years old in these photos here, in the area where I grew up, there was this campground called Camp Conestoga.

And all the local troops in the region would get together, and we had this special thing once a year called the “Father and Son Campout,” where you go there with your dad or somebody else, because some people didn’t have fathers, and you’d go there and camp out with your dad or whoever for like two or three days. I forget how long it was.

But the big point of it was on Saturday night, the final night, each of the troops would give some sort of skit. We’d have this big bonfire at that amphitheater you’re going to see in that photograph there. Big bonfire and big amphitheater.

Roughly 200 people would be sitting there from all these different troops and stuff. And so, the one year we were there, in those photographs, one of the kids in the troop that I was from, his dad was a director. I don’t remember what he was a director of, films or something. I don’t know what he did. I don’t remember his name or anything.

So, we’re trying to figure out – look, you can do any kind of skit you wanted to. It could be horror, it could be comedy, whatever you want to do. So, we decide we’re going to do a comedy skit.

And so, we go to this guy because he’s a director. He must know what he’s doing. He’s probably got some good ideas.

So, his son’s like, “Oh yeah, my dad’s a director.” And we’re like, “Oh, OK. Well, what kind of ideas you got, buddy? Come on, bring it.”

So, what he said is, he said, “Oh, I got it. We’re going to do the JCPenney skit.”

Now, a few of you might know what this is. If you were involved in Scouting, you maybe have heard of it. It’s a pretty famous campground skit.

The thing about the JCPenney skit is everybody knows what it is. So, as soon as he says that, we’re like, “Aw, what the hell are you talking about? You said your dad’s a director and he wants to do the JCPenney skit.”

Now, let me give you some context, and I’ll show you what the JCPenney skit is actually like, so you get a feel for it. So, there are variations on it, but basically, you have someone sitting in a chair, and then you’re going to have people pass them.

So, the person sitting in the chair here. All right. Then you have maybe one, two people, whatever, that pass. And they’re walking by, and then person in the chair’s like, “Oh, hey, where’d you get that shirt?” And that person’s like, “Oh, JCPenney.” And they walk off.

And you all know what JC Penney is, right? The store.

OK. So, next person walks by, and they’re like, “Hey, where’d you get those pants?” That person’s like, “JCPenney,” then they walk off.

Then eventually, you get to the final person or so. Next person walks by. The person’s like, “Hey, where’d you get those shoes?” And that person’s like, “JCPenney,” and they walk away.

And then finally, after all this, you get to the big punchline. It’s going to be real funny. It’s going to be real funny. So final person walks out, and they’re usually dressed in a towel and they appear to be naked, no shoes and everything. And they come out like this.

And then the person in the chair’s like, “Who are you?” And that person goes like this, “J.C. Penney.” Right? Yeah, see. It’s sympathy laughter.

It’s one of those dumb jokes where you’re like, “Ah, haha. God, I want to laugh now because I feel bad for the guy that he said that. Damn it. That was a really awful joke.”

So, anyway, this is a very well-known skit, and everybody knows what this is, and it’s stupid. Everybody knows. And so, we got this guy, and he’s a director, and his son’s like, “Oh yeah, my dad’s a director,” and he’s like, “We’re going to do the JCPenney skit.”

And we’re like, what? “Oh my God, what do you direct?” This guy. And he’s like, “No, no, no.” He’s like, “Hold up, hold up.” He’s like, “Now, first off, I need someone to be our J.C. Penney, someone who likes to act.”

And my dad’s like, “Come on, Stanley, come on. You like that.” And I’m like, “Oh, OK.” And he’s like, “All right, Stanley, you like to act?” And I’m like, “Yeah.”

He’s like, “OK, you’re our J.C. Penney. Here’s how it’s going to go.” He said, “We’re going to do the whole skit just like it’s written. Now, Stanley, this is very important.” I’m like, “OK.”

He’s like, “When you come out, I want you to come out real slow, nice and dramatic. I want you to pause for a second or two right there in the front. And when you stare like this, OK?” I’m like, “Yeah.”

He’s like, “When you look out there and the person on the bench says, who are you? I want you to say Jamesway.”

Now, Jamesway, to give you context, was this retail chain in the Northeastern part of the United States. My wife grew up with it. It was a big thing back where we grew up. You get up on Sunday morning, go there for the Jamesway breakfast. So, any rate, it was kind of like Walmart or Kmart. It was this retail chain.

So, he says, I’m supposed to say “Jamesway,” but that’s not the damn punchline, man. And so, we’re like, “What are you talking about?” He’s like, “No, no, no.” He’s like, “Think about it.” And we were like, huh. Oh. Oh! Oh!

He’s going to say Jamesway, not JCPenney. So, it sounds, you know.

OK, so time for us to do the skit. Everyone’s sitting there. As soon as that first person walks by and says, “Where’d you get that shirt?”

Everybody in the audience, it’s like a collective sigh. They’re just like, “Ugh. God, it’s the JCPenney skit.” And they didn’t have these back then.

They couldn’t be like, “I’m on TikTok right now. I’m getting out of this JCPenney skit. It’s boring. Let’s see what’s going on on my phone.” They had to bear it. They’re going to have to sit through this now.

So, as soon as they knew what that skit was, everybody in the audience, probably double what we got right here, absolutely bored to tears. They’re just like …

[Stepanic sighs]

Going through the skit. “Where did you get that shirt?” “Where did you get those pants?” “Where did you get those shoes?” And everyone’s just …

[Stepanic sighs]

And then finally, here I come. It’s a big moment, OK, big moment. I got the towel on there. I’m coming out. Going nice and slow, just like you told me to do. Stay in the middle there.

And the guy’s like, “Who are you?” You could see this one kid right up in the middle aisle. He turns to his dad. He’s like, “JC Penney.” Like, people are sitting back.

[Stepanic sighs]

So, I did what he said. I went, “Jamesway.” Now, here’s the reaction. That kid, for example, I say, “Jamesway.” He’s like … [Stepanic makes astonished facial expression] His dad’s like … [Stepanic makes surprised facial expression]

I heard someone up there like, “Did he say, did he say Jamesway?” Everyone was stunned. It was like three to five seconds of pure silence and uncertainty. Everyone’s sitting there.

And then, they got it, and they all stood up. It was a standing ovation. They were like, “Yes! Jamesway! Oh my God, Jamesway!” They’re all coming up around me.

This guy comes up. He’s like, “I want a picture with Jamesway.” I’m like, “What? What? Oh, yeah. OK. OK.” And then that director guy, he’s sitting over there, he’s looking at me. He’s like … [Stepanic nods]

And I’m like, “Oh my God.” And they took a photograph of me and that photograph is probably out there somewhere. They probably look at it occasionally, like, “Oh, remember that guy? That was Jamesway. Man, you remember that?”

And you might wonder, well, why is that moment so important? Because that guy was able to get that reaction from me saying that out of that crowd. He just changed one word in one of the stupidest skits ever done at a campground you’ve never heard of.

Whatever he directed, it didn’t matter. He was there doing his thing, wherever he was. And that picture you see there of me sitting on that bench, I remember sitting there because that was the next day.

My dad’s like, “You want to take any pictures before we leave?” And I’m like, “Yeah, I want to get a picture at that amphitheater.” He’s like, “OK, Jamesway.”

So that’s where I’m sitting there. I’m sitting there and I’m looking right at that spot where I stood when I said that. And I’m thinking to myself in that picture, I can remember that picture, and I’m thinking to myself there, “Wow, I want to do something like that.”

How can you get up there and connect with people and teach them something in a moment with a word? Like, I want to be like that guy. How can I do that? And here I am. Here I am doing that skit again, too, the same skit.

I don’t know if I got the same reaction, but it’s the same skit. So, it’s a number of things in your life, things that go back to your parents, your connection with them, and things you remember from your mother. Things you grew up with that were difficulties, that I’ve just had a lot of experiences, and eventually, all that stuff came together in a way that it’s something that I love doing and I’m also good at.

So, one thing I can always give as advice to people, and students always ask me, “Well, how did you get to where you are? How do you do that? You’re Dracula professor and you’re teaching about vampires. How do you get up there doing such a thing?”

And I say, “Have a bunch of experiences. I mean, go out there and do a lot of stuff. Listen to music you might not like. Talk to people you don’t talk to normally. Just get out there and connect.”

And then eventually, all that stuff just kind of comes together. Sometimes it’s in a way you don’t expect, where you want to be in a band, but you do this Army thing by accident.

It all just comes together, and that’s how I got here. A little bit of luck and experiences.

So, thanks a lot. Thanks to President Ryan for having me. Thanks to all the speakers. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you.

[APPLAUSE]