Editor’s note: This is the text of the address that Rabbi Daniel Alter gave at the Moriah 2020 eighth grade graduation ceremony.

Graduates,

I want to be perfectly frank with you. I had a whole graduation speech prepared for the unique circumstances of this graduation. The title was obvious—“The Quarantine Graduates of 2020.” I was going to outline all the firsts that are unique to your cohort: the first cohort to experience this new format of distance learning, the first cohort to redefine school dress codes—pajamas, the first cohort to graduate in a parking lot. I think that is a record that you will hold for a very long time. Then I was going to expound upon lessons that you, the quarantine graduates of 2020, could learn from the present situation. It was a good speech—it even had some great jokes in it.

But a few weeks ago, on Shavuot morning, while taking a walk and thinking about this speech, I realized it was incorrect and inappropriate. I decided to rip it up on the spot—not to literally rip it up since it was Shavuot, so I guess you could say I had to virtually or remotely rip it up.

What was the problem? By identifying you as the quarantine graduates of 2020, maybe a cute or endearing moniker, I was guilty of allowing you to be defined by your circumstances—by what has happened to you.

And if there is one thing that I want you to take away from the last few months it is this:

Don’t you dare allow yourselves to be defined by your circumstances. I will say that again:

Don’t ever allow yourselves to be defined by your circumstances.

Our identities are shaped by who we are, what we aim for and how we respond to situations, dilemmas and challenges that are thrown our way. Never allow yourself to be defined by those situations, dilemmas or challenges.

Rather, self-assess who you are, determine who you want to be and then create a roadmap for how you are going to become that person. Then when hardships, challenges or crises come your way, you will have the inner strength and capacity to handle these situations, ensuring that they don’t define you. Rather, your actions, even during difficult times, will define who you are.

You are not the quarantine class of 2020. You are the Moriah graduating class of 2020, who made your parents, your teachers and your community proud of all that you have accomplished. You did not allow the challenges of COVID-19 to change anything about who you are or what you aspire to. That is worth celebrating.

I was recently reading the autobiography of Ben Franklin. (Yes—this is what school principals do in their spare time—the school principal’s equivalent of Fortnight.) This was a man who achieved incredible things in his life. He was a founding father, helped draft the Declaration of Independence, was a delegate to the convention that produced the U.S. Constitution, was an ambassador to France, a scientist and inventor of contraptions like bifocals and more efficient stoves, a civic leader who instituted a fire department and library in Philadelphia and a very successful printer. The list goes on and on. He lived through difficult times and saw incredible success. How did Ben Franklin achieve such greatness?

At a relatively young age he decided to focus on who he wanted to be and set up a plan to become that person. His goal was what he described as moral perfection. He developed a list of 13 virtues that he felt were important. These virtues included such topics as temperance, humility, moderation, justice, sincerity, industry, frugality and others. He then created a chart for himself where he worked on one virtue—what we would call a “midda”—every week. He evaluated himself every day. If he did well he gave himself the equivalent of a check on his chart. He essentially created a mussar plan for himself that he worked on daily, and he carried this chart with him for the rest of his life. That is how young Benjamin became the famous Ben Franklin. This is why in the face of adversity, during the darkest days of the American revolution, he was a voice of clarity and moral authority and rose to the multiple challenges he faced.

You have probably heard of Rav Meir Shapiro, the Lubliner Rav, especially having celebrated the siyum hashas so recently. I have always been fascinated with this great man. My oldest son, Yehuda Meir, whose namesake, Yehuda Meir Shapira, is named after the same person that his relative the Lubliner Rav is named after, creates a personal bond for my family. This man was the creator of the Daf Yomi; he was the first Orthodox Jew to be a member of the Sejm, the Polish parliament; he was the head of the Aguda movement; he was a major Talmid Chacham and author of seforim; and he revolutionized the idea of what a yeshiva looked like in Poland. Until then Polish yeshiva students generally lived in poverty and poor conditions. He decided to make the idea of a yeshiva more prominent. He built a beautiful new building in Lublin, hired chefs to feed students instead of them having to ask locals for food, and created a new vision for what a yeshiva can look like and how a yeshiva student is treated. It is hard to believe that this man achieved so much in his very short life, passing away in his mid-40s. Let me tell you something else about this giant Torah scholar that I recently learned while watching a film about his life. When he was a young child he couldn’t read Hebrew. He had some form of language disability, in an era where these issues were generally undiagnosed. Yet he knew who he was and who he wanted to be and he persevered in his learning and rose to greatness. He had many other challenges in his life. Poland was not always an easy place at that time. He had to raise great sums of money at a time of financial difficulty. But he overcame every challenge in his way. He did not let his challenges define him.

One last story. Years ago a friend of mine was driving Rav Hershel Shachter, the well-known rosh yeshiva at Yeshiva University, to a class he was supposed to give. During that drive Rav Shachter was informed that the topic of the class was different than what he had originally been told. He had very little time to prepare. He spent a precious few moments in the car studying sources he would now discuss. As they were exiting the car, my friend asked him how he had enough time to prepare the class. He responded, “I have been preparing my whole life.” What he meant was that he is always learning Torah, and reviewing Torah. You are familiar with your teacher Rabbi Eisenberger’s mantra—”The more you review the more you retain.” Rav Shachter was able to address the challenge of being told the topic for his class at the last minute because he has always had clarity on who he wanted to be and how to achieve that goal. The preparation took place for many years, not during that car ride.

Graduating class of 2020: You have not let yourselves be defined as the quarantine class of 2020 and you have not allowed yourselves to be defined by this quarantine.

When I look out at the cars in this crowd and each of you sitting in front of me, I see a group of young men and women who are bright, motivated and incredibly talented. I see students who have grown and developed over the years and are ready for the next stage of their journey. I see a cohort of individuals who have developed friendships and relationships with each other that will last a lifetime. I see young men and women, who embody the mission of the Moriah school, who possess a love for and commitment to Torat Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael and am Yisrael, who aspire to impact on the world around them in meaningful ways, and whose positive middot illuminate the world. I see 68 individuals, every single one of whom I and my fellow colleagues will always be proud to call a Moriah alumnus.

Rabbi Daniel Alter is Head of School at The Moriah School.