Wear Sunscreen
The benefits are proven. The speech of the same name is indelible.
Returning home to Oregon for a stretch has me revisiting a host of things…
Boxes out in the barn overdue for sorting. Keep, pass on, upcycle, toss. Same goes for the storage unit my parents graciously and patiently have kept up for us.
The fields where I played softball with some of the greatest teams to have ever played, cheered, chanted, won, drew, and lost.
The parking lots where I sat and listened to my BMG discs and homemade mixtapes. The parking lots where I cried, dreamed, parked, and carpooled. Et cetera, et cetera.
And then there are the nostalgias with which I am mixing my time and labor. These concoctions are shaping up to be transformative and healing. For example:
The farm chores and rural home once perceived as barriers to my so called (social) life, are now the lifeline I need in this season to let the nutrients return to my figurative soil1.
Slowly reaching out to friends and teachers who knew me when. Hoping to meet up in some near future, on a front porch or a back lawn. Maybe under our walnut tree. Or over a slice of banana cream pie at Shari’s. Or at The Festival—so long as aebleskivers and community dance are involved.
Hearing graduates rejoice in multiple languages at the UofO, jogging by them on our way to rushing Willamette waters and calm deciduous leaves whispering in the wind: you belong here.
And so, on this otium-filled, first-Sunday-in-June, I leave you, my treasured co-pilots in this Turtle Adventure, with two important messages:
One: I am going to be offline for a while. To take care of health and family. To be present in the season to which I am called. You’ll be among the first to know when I am back. You have my word on that.
Two: Among the hurt, injustice, and sorrow in this moment there are millions of graduates progressing from one stage to the next. And with their progression comes hope, courage, and the promise of liberating, decisive action. To ring in this momentous moment, I share the message from one of my most favorite graduation speeches “Wear Sunscreen” by Mary Schmich in June of 1997.2
I highly recommend listening to Lee Perry’s reading in one of the forms below. The first video rightly credits Schmich and includes Spanish subtitles:
The second video appears to be the ‘official’ (??) music video from the Baz Luhrman production (popularized in 1999):
Any prompts come to you from listening?
Any discernments come to you?
Where were you in 1997 when this was first written? Where are you now, 25 years later?
Author’s note:
Schmich’s text is available in its original form behind the paywall on the Chicago Tribune here and reposted on Genius.com here (« Genius has a bit of a confusing attribution with Baz as the headliner)
See especially: Bradshaw, Leslie "How Farming Can Help You Frame the Solution." Prepared and delivered for the NYC Salon (2016): https://www.slideshare.net/lesliebradshaw/how-farming-can-help-you-frame-the-solution.
Schmich was a columnist for the Chicago Tribune from 1992 to 2021, where this speech first appeared on Jun 1, 1997. She was the winner of the 2012 Pulitzer Prize for commentary. More about her storied career here. Nota bene: Wikipedia notes that her time at Chicago Tribune was interrupted for a year when she attended Harvard on a Nieman Fellowship for journalists.
And if Wear Sunscreen sounds familiar in the pop-culture lexicon, that’s thanks to Mark Anthony “Baz” Luhrmann (indeed, that Baz Luhrman! see especially: his work on Moulin Rouge & the 2013 production of Great Gatsby).
Although originally dated 1997, according to Genius.com it was Baz Luhrmann who did what he does best: punch up Mary Schmich’s original work for the zeitgeist to consume it two years later as a hit in 1999.
And while I have you in the footnote, here’s a sort of related / relatable (?!) Commencement speech, which I wrote (unabridged) and delivered in 2016 for the 106th graduating class of my alma mater, Junction City High School.
Speaking of having you as an esteemed guest of the footnotes, five (5) reflections to share about a June 2022 reading of something I listened to on repeat in the late 90s when it debuted on the radio:
When Schmich writes: “The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that Never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday,” I cannot help but think of a recent Tuesday in May. Thank you Nicole and team. I love you all more than words can ever describe.
When Schmich uses the word “fat” I want to add: this is a word and concept I believe invites us all to have a more nuanced, thoughtful, and inclusive reading (especially 25 years later). I also acknowledge how hard I can be on myself regarding photos and continue to actively do the work to welcome in self-love and body-positive celebrations of who I am and what I can do—not just what I fit in or out of. A few pieces I’ve written on this topic on Medium: How I Gained and Lost 60 Pounds as an Entrepreneur — and So Can You! (2014), Strong is the New Skinny (2015), and Life After the “After” Photo (2019).
When Schmich mentions living in NYC: I get what Schmich was conveying here and, at the same time, challenge it to say: some of my softest grace unfolded while living full time in New York City from 2014 to early May 2022.
When Schmich mentions living in NorCal: For the record, I would move back to the home in which I was born on Serene Avenue in Lake Tahoe in a heartbeat. I may melt from all the softness. I might also grow strong in the vanilla barks of my childhood.
How beautiful and full of pangs it is to read this closely at age 40.