Harpur College played such an important part in molding my character and my career that I am deeply touched to be awarded this honorary doctorate.

Today, you are thinking about your future – what you want to do, who you want to be. I’d like to share some stories about my life’s journey with you, to suggest to you that your vision today is likely to guide your life tomorrow.

You honor me for my technical contributions in computer science, and you probably even used some of my books in your courses. But thirty years ago, back at my Harpur College graduation, sitting in a stuffy auditorium wearing my anti-war armband, I would have laughed if you had told me how I would have ended up.

I am making a difference in ways that I never imagined: hosting foreign students who could not otherwise afford to attend US conferences, working with youngsters in low-income neighborhoods, and helping women, Latinos and African-Americans move up in their careers. I tutor inner-city kids, get them computers, counselors, mentors, take them on bike rides, to the library, to the theater, to a bookstore – whatever it takes to help them have the opportunities I had.

I’ve also tried to leave a legacy for others: a trust to help prevent discrimination in employment, the community involvement scholarships here at Harpur, and my founding the ACM Committee for Women and Minorities, for instance.

Where does my commitment to social justice come from? I am inspired not by a technologist, but by Winston Churchill, who said that "we make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give." And the focus for that vision comes from my late nights here at Harpur, talking with faculty and students about a more just and humane society.

If you will permit me, I’ll draw not on technology but on music and art to explain how I fashioned my life from my experiences and goals. Although I know your music – Pearl Jam and Korn and the Pet Shop Boys – I’d like to use some of my generation’s music to suggest to you that your life is likely to be fashioned bit by bit, in ways you may not be able to anticipate now. Let me borrow a few lines from Stephen Sondheim’s music from "Sunday in the Park with George."

Bit by bit, putting it together ...
Piece by piece, only way to make a work of art,
Every moment makes a contribution,
Every little detail plays a part.
Having just the vision’s no solution,
Everything depends on execution,
Putting it together, that’s what counts.

Ounce by ounce, putting it together:
Small amounts, adding up to make a work of art.
First of all, you need a good foundation,
Otherwise it’s risky from the start.
Takes a little cocktail conversation
But without the proper preparation,
Having just the vision’s no solution,
Everything depends on execution ...

The art of making art is putting it together, bit by bit.

I often talk with young people about putting together my life and my career. They always assume that when I graduated from high school or college, I decided what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be, and I just followed my plan! But in fact, my life — and all our lives — are built up, bit by bit, ounce by ounce, from the pieces of our experience. When I arrived at Harpur, I had a general vision of who I wanted to be – I wanted to make a difference, to make the world a more fair and enjoyable place. But it was at Harpur that I learned how to make that vision a reality.

Harpur’s integrated liberal arts curriculum, coupled with its emphasis on personal interaction with faculty, built a solid foundation for my life. My skills across many disciplines enable me to understand problems and find solutions that others with narrower training cannot. And throughout my time here, I was guided in many ways by caring faculty members. I could talk with my advisor, Nick Sterling, about anything, whether it involved mathematics or not. He encouraged me to do what I love, and I set my sights on teaching university mathematics, because I loved solving problems and I wanted to help young people – I wanted to make a difference.

At the same time, Carroll Coates encouraged me to continue my study of French. Over time, bit by bit, my facility with French helped me to learn other languages. My language skills have been of enormous value as I conduct business with my international clients in their native tongues.

Sam Chianis’ and Harry Lincoln’s classes opened up my ears to music as nothing had before. And last year, when Arnold Steinhardt read from his wonderful new book, Indivisible by Four, at our favorite bookstore, I told him how his open rehearsals of the Guarneri Quartet at Harpur had enriched my life by teaching me what to listen for. I also tutored pianist Jean Casadesus’ daughter, and the family welcomed me not only for tutoring sessions but also for family meals and cocktail parties. They introduced me to extraordinary people in the music and theater worlds, a gift for which I will always be grateful. Music has continued to be one of my great joys, an important splash of color in my life’s palette. It has enabled me to enjoy samba in Brazil, opera in Italy, and folk music in the Yorkshire Dales.

Even my gym classes helped me build my life, bit by bit. After I broke my finger playing football in the snow (does it still snow in Binghamton?), I signed up for "conditioning" instead of the more usual basketball or volleyball. I can still remember silently cursing Miss Colby the first time she made us run around the track for ten minutes non-stop; I thought the ten minutes would never end! And my lungs still ache when I think of how she had us race up and down the bleachers. I took several heavy philosophy courses at Harpur – I almost majored in philosophy – but it was Miss Colby who helped me experience the real mind-body problem! I think of her every weekend as I do my 90-minute runs along the Capital Crescent Trail! She added another bit of color to my life’s picture, teaching me perseverance and the need to take care of myself as I care for others.

I come from a family of modest means, and I could not have attended college without financial aid. So almost immediately, one bit of my life was transformed; just as my Harpur Foundation scholarship enabled me to finish college, I am pleased to say that my husband and I now give back to the Foundation by supporting some of you with our Community Involvement Scholarships. Indeed, three of you in today’s graduating class were recipients of our awards, and we are very proud of you!

I am not alone in being touched by Harpur like this. Many of my Harpur friends are doing the same. Leslie Carroll runs the pediatrics department at a hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania that takes in low-income patients when no other hospitals will. Mercedes Sandoval, my Harpur roommate, is a community activist in DC. Elaine Rosenblatt runs a health clinic and Paul Grossberg heads pediatrics at the University of Wisconsin Hospital. Terry Donovan Bratt is the principal of a multi-cultural elementary school in Arlington, Virginia, and for years headed the Arlington program teaching English as a second language. Her husband, Mike, works for the US Department of Health and Human Services, tracking down delinquent fathers. Indeed, it is hard to find a Harpur friend who is not involved in making the world a better place. And certainly the recipients of our scholarships have gotten an early start on social change; their commitment to community service was the basis for their awards.

You hear almost daily about high-tech millionaires who make lots of money from their stock options. I hope that those of you who strive for success in my business – or any business – will view success not in terms of dollars and possessions but in terms of how much you help others to experience the spiritual and educational richness that you enjoy.

Earlier, you heard an excerpt from "Sunday in the Park with George." "George" is George Seurat, the pointillist painter whose masterpieces are composed of tiny dots of color. When you look at his paintings up close, you usually cannot tell what is being depicted; you have to step back to get a better perspective. In the same way, your life’s path may not be obvious to you right now. Each experience and each relationship may not seem relevant to your vision, just as each dot on a Seurat painting may not be obvious in its contribution to the big picture. Indeed, you may not be able to see the big picture for a very long time. But in fact each dot is an important part of the big picture. Your life is defined by creating and changing dots. And you give back to others by helping them to create and change their dots, bit by bit. Success doesn’t mean accumulating dots. It means changing a few dots in your lifetime, so that you improve the overall picture, bit by bit. Your challenge is to decide what you want to see in the big picture, and which dots to try to change.

Bit by bit, putting it together.
Piece by piece, working out the vision night and day.
All it takes is time and perseverance
With a little luck along the way,
Putting in a personal appearance
Gathering supporters and adherents ...

Mapping out the songs but in addition,
Harmonizing each negotiation,
Balancing the part that’s all musician
With the part that’s strictly presentation,
Balancing the money with the mission
Till you have the perfect orchestration
Even if you do have the suspicion
That it’s taking all your concentration.

The art of making art ...
Is putting it together bit by bit, beat by beat, part by part
Sheet by sheet
Chart by chart
Track by track, bit by bit
Reel by reel, pout by pout
Stack by stack, snit by snit
Meal by meal, shout by shout
Deal by deal, spat by spat
Shpiel by shpiel, doubt by doubt
And that ...
Is the state of the art.