The Best-Laid Plans
Work hard, be persistent, and stick to it. But, if life intervenes,
just go with it.
By Mary Anne Marsh '79
First of all, I want to congratulate you on graduating with honors from this school--no small feat. I know plenty who did and plenty who didn't, and I know what it takes to do it. I also want to thank you for being here today; it's an opportunity that, frankly, I'm not sure I thought I would ever have.
Before you ask "Why is she speaking today?" know that I've been asking myself that same question for seven months.
You see, I was one of the people who led the fight to stop Wheaton from going coed. I could tell you a lot of stories about that and it would take me into next week, but there is one story about that I will share. We had run an anticoeducation campaign all over the country, and it culminated at Commencement in 1987, when the trustees planned to vote. We had big pink pins that said "Vote No" and we had a Winnebago-our command central-parked across the street from the Presidents' House; we slept in there, ran everything out of there. At just the perfect time during Commencement, this plane flies over the Dimple with a big banner across the back that, of course, said "Vote No." Well, everybody went crazy; they were standing on their feet clapping, going nuts. The commencement speaker was then-Secretary of Transportation Elizabeth Dole, so every TV network was here: CNN, ABC, NBC, CBS. By the end of the day, I had my first CNN interview, so maybe that was a sign of things to come.
You can imagine that when I got the invitation to speak at Honors Convocation, I thought it was a mistake, and so I never replied. When Provost [Susanne] Woods called again, I asked, "Do you understand who you've invited?" She said, "Oh, yeah." So, for seven months, I've been sweating this out, finally deciding to talk about "The Best Laid Plans." Life never turns out the way you plan it; in 1987 I had a Winnebago parked across the street from the Presidents' House, and tonight I'm parked in the driveway of the Presidents' House. I've come a long way.
No matter how smart, disciplined, organized and persistent you are, all the things that got you to today aren't exactly the things that help you after Wheaton. I never believed it, but it's true. If you are like me, you came into Wheaton early decision, you knew every course you were going to take all four years, you knew every sport you were going to play, every office you were going to run for-you knew everything.
There were two things I was sure that I would do when I left Wheaton. One, I would be a lawyer; two, I would run for office. I never went to law school, much to Jay Goodman's dismay. Instead, I went to the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard and got a master's degree. I took Jay Goodman's classes, Darlene Boroviak's course in research methods, which I really loathed at the time. But now I can tell you anything you want to know about regression analysis and focus groups. I can read polls up one side and down the other and it's one of my favorite things to do.
Life is a campaign
The best-laid plans don't ever work out because life intervenes. The more I tried to stick to my plans, the more life cropped up in front of my face. I started out doing campaigns because I was going to do one for myself someday. Well, I've never done a campaign for myself, but I've worked on plenty of campaigns and I've helped to elect some of the best people in the country. Life is a campaign; there are compromises, lots of wins, lots of losses, lots of heartbreak, lots of sorrow and lots of fun, but that's life. I was sure I'd be a lawyer; I was sure I'd be in Congress or something. I organized my entire life around it-where I worked, where I lived, what I did, what I said. But, that's not how it worked out. And I have absolutely no regrets, because when you look at the way my life turned out, it's not completely different from the way I planned it; it's just a variation on it. I struggled along the way and thought, "Gee, you know, this isn't how it's supposed to be." But every time I kept going, it was far better than anything I had planned.
Let me tell you a couple of things that happened to me in the past ten years that I could never plan for, things that would've never happened to me if I had stuck with my original plan. And all three little stories involve the 42nd president of the United States, Bill Clinton.
Story number one ...
It was 1993, and Senator Ted Kennedy was running against Mitt Romney. Ted Kennedy was in the race of his life and he decided to bring in President Clinton to do an event with him. So, we decided to do a big rally at Park Plaza Castle in Boston. Darlene Boroviak was there; I put her in the front of the rope line, and said, "Stand here, don't move, don't go anywhere. The president's going to come here and shake your hand. We're going to tell him to! That's the way it works!" Everybody loved the event. The best compliment I ever got in my life was from the Kennedy guys, who came up to me and said, "Wow, Mary Anne, this is like '62"-the first Ted Kennedy campaign. So, the event goes great; it's packed, everyone gets to meet Clinton, the Kennedy family's there, and they come backstage afterward. What Darlene and other people don't see is the president thanking me and Senator Kennedy for this event and telling us he wants to go "up there." "Up there" in the balcony was the Hundred Saxophone Choir, Clinton's favorite band in all of America. Well, the White House advance staff had told me the day before the event, "He's not playing the saxophone anymore-we want him to be serious." I had 24 hours to figure out how I was going to handle this. I decided to put a Porta-Potty in front of the only set of stairs that went up to the balcony. Now, I'm standing with the president of the United States and he just wants to go up there, and I'm saying, "I'm sorry, Mr. President, I had to put this here; you can understand, can't you? We can't move it, I'm really sorry you're not going to play the saxophone." When I was at Wheaton, I thought that if I ever met the president, it would be the best day of my life. Instead, there I am telling the president he can't go up and play saxophone because I had to put a Porta-Potty in front of the only set of stairs.
Story number two ...
It's impeachment. I was on the "O'Reilly Factor." Bill O'Reilly decided to have me and commentator Heather Nauert on the show. I was the token girl Democrat who was kind of blonde--I'm blonder now--and Heather Nauert was the token girl Republican, but she was a gorgeous blonde--she's brunette now. We were on for two weeks, every night--two girls talking about impeachment. One night, the little earpiece in my ear says, "O.K., guys, we're going to change everything. We just heard from SKY-TV in London that they got the results of the D.N.A. test on the blue dress from Monica Lewinsky." I thought to myself, "Oh, this is going to be bad!" So, I'm sitting there, much like tonight, and I have a little rash going up my neck, and I'm thinking, "I'm on TV with millions of people watching and I'm going to have to talk about the blue dress." I had 20 seconds to think about it and, sure enough, O'Reilly says, "Well, Mary Anne, the results of the D.N.A. test are in and it looks like the dress and Bill Clinton are well acquainted. What say you?" So, I looked straight at the camera and said, "Well, Bill, I think the results speak for themselves." On TV and radio, they hate silence. They had to move on, and I got out of that.
And ... the last Clinton story
Clinton is leaving office and going on a farewell tour; of course, it includes Boston, because it's one of his favorite cities. I get invited to a reception, which I think is this little thing where he's going to get up there and talk. It turns out to be a little bit more special than that, and we're all to have our pictures taken with him. I get up to the president and the presenter says, "Mr. President, this is Mary Anne Marsh. She's one of the first people to go on national TV and defend you during impeachment." He thanks me, and I say, "Oh no, Mr. President, thank you. Because of you, I've been able to put together a small television career, and without you, it would've never happened." He starts laughing so hard that he bends over and the Secret Service guys think he's getting killed.
Could I have planned any of this? Never. When I was sitting in these pews, like you, I never imagined that. So, my story is this: You can have a plan. You should have goals. You should work hard, you should be persistent, and you should stick to it. But, if life intervenes, just go with it. It could end up being a lot greater than what you planned. All the stories aside, there are five pieces of advice that everyone told me when I was your age, and I didn't believe them. I want you to believe them because if you do, it will save you so much time, pain and agony. Trust me on these.
- Everything they tell you about getting older is true-the eating, drinking, stretching, sleep thing, sunscreen, all of it. Don't fight it; there's nothing you can do about it.
- About 20 years from now, you women in the audience are going to get up, go to the bathroom, look into the mirror, and say out loud, "Oh, my God! I didn't know my mother was here," and then, you're going to realize it's you. There's nothing you can do about that, either, unless you're Michael Jackson.
- Be nice to the people you meet in your 20s. You will meet them in your 30s, 40s and 50s, whether you want to or not. And there's nothing you can do about it. All you can do is be nice to them.
- Be nice to the people on your way up so they'll be nice to you on your way down. Because you'll go up, and you'll definitely go down. And you'll go up again and it would just be nice if they were nice to you on the whole ride. That will all happen, no matter how good you are.
- Last, but not least: You will experience the kind of happiness that you cannot imagine. The best things haven't happened to you yet. And when they do, you're going to say, "This is too good to be true, and I absolutely can't believe that I deserve this." I want you to know that's all true and you do deserve it. Enjoy every minute of it, because with it will come the kind of sadness, no matter what tragedy you've already experienced in your life, that you can't imagine. And you'll say at the time, "I can't survive this, I can't believe I deserve this," and you will survive it and you don't deserve it. It's just life.
Mary Anne Marsh is a principal of the Dewey Square Group, a national political and corporate consulting firm, and a frequent political analyst. This piece is adapted from her address at Honors Convocaction in May.
