Kristen Walker

Hello, fellow graduates, colleagues, family and friends.

Some of you know me because I work here, but before that I was an undergrad at what is now the Bass School. I’m a first-generation college graduate and a nontraditional student. I am the first in my family to earn a master’s degree. When I finished my bachelor’s in 2017, I was 37 years old. Some of you are doing math in your head right now, and I’ll save you the trouble: I turned 46 in August. I am, by every definition, a late bloomer.

“Late bloomer” is a derogatory term in our culture that means “you’re old now; you took too long; you didn’t have a clean trajectory; how sad for you.” This is because, as a society, we are in a terrible hurry. This is the age of one-year master’s degrees, eight-minute abs and instant ramen. And while I don’t necessarily recommend following in all of my footsteps, let me serve as a reminder that taking your time is nothing to be ashamed of. I am a proud late bloomer. I am proud because at least I eventually bloomed. In fact, I am not finished blooming.

You could say I have a lot of lore. Before I returned to school at age 35, I’d been a waitress, bartender, secretary, actor, dialect coach, writer, editor, vet tech and accountant; I did door-to-door fundraising for the Sierra Club in Austin; I did marketing for a theater in San Francisco; I helped run a live music venue in Dallas; and then I spent four years as a stay-at-home mom. And I did other stuff besides work: I read thousands of books, broke my ankle doing a cartwheel in the woods and handed out books of my poetry to strangers on the street in Deep Ellum. I moved around, made mistakes, made friends, fell in love, fell out of love and learned something from everyone I met and everything I did. In short, I lived.

And that is what we are here for. Not just to accomplish, but to experience. Not merely to achieve, but to reflect and to understand. Look, it is wonderful to succeed. But I’m going to say something a little controversial for a commencement ceremony: Success is not the meaning of life.

If you want to know what is, look around. The friends sitting next to you. The family sitting behind you or celebrating you from afar. The loved ones who have left you, who we remember today with gratitude for their love — these people, your love for them and theirs for you — that’s the meaning of life. You are on this earth neither to toil in misery nor recline in luxury. You are here to learn from and care for people, and for them to learn from and care for you. That’s it.

This isn’t a race. There is a finish line, but we don’t know when we’ll reach it, so it’s not worth worrying about. If you’re concerned because that PhD is going to take you until you’re 30, I have news for you, my friend, you’ll be 30 either way.

When I was 13, my grandfather, who I loved very much, told me, “Get an education. It’s the only thing no one can take away from you.” He was dying of cancer at the time, and he knew it. He passed away 33 years ago tomorrow, but his words never left me. I’m standing here in no small part because of him, just as I know every single one of you is sitting here because someone wouldn’t let you give up.

But mostly I’m standing here for two people sitting in the audience: my mother and my daughter. Mom, thank you for continuing to selflessly care for your family. Clementine, thank you for providing me with the greatest gift anyone can have: someone to selflessly care for.

Now that I’ve insisted achievement isn’t the meaning of life, I must admit, standing here today is a big deal for me. I hope I’ve started a tradition in my family of commitment not just to learning but to experiencing life to its fullest, even if it seems “too late.” If you’re alive, it’s not too late.

So yes, I am a late bloomer. I am a proud late bloomer. I am proud because I bloomed. I am not finished blooming. And neither are you.

Thank you, and congratulations, Class of 2025!

Kristen Walker BA’17 is graduating with a Master of Arts in interdisciplinary studies, concentrating in strategic digital communications and culture. She earned her undergraduate degree in literary studies from UT Dallas and is currently marketing communications manager for the School of Interdisciplinary Studies.