Superintendent (Craig) Baily, Principal (John) Menhart, faculty, family, friends, and members of the Carmichaels Area Senior High School graduating class of 2010, I am honored to congratulate you on this great day.  Thank you for inviting me to celebrate this achievement with you.  

On a day a lot like today, more than 40 years ago, I sat where you sit now.  Over the decades since that day, wherever I go, when people hear where I come from, they want to know one thing:   What the heck is a Mighty Mike?  And, honestly, I never quite know what to tell them.

But the truth is, I'm proud to be a Mighty Mike, because it means I'm from here, and there's no better place in the world to call home.  This may not be a money-rich community, but it gave me support, and sustenance many times more valuable.  I happen to know your superintendent has beat the bushes for grant money, so you could have the best education possible. Your principal knows every one of your names. Your parents have loved you, scolded you, begged you, pushed you, and praised you to get to this point.  

And you've got friends – boy, do you have friends.  I imagine you probably have a sense of how important your friends are. As you've grown and tested each other, you've tempered bonds of trust and affection, and I believe those bonds will last.  I say that because there are guys I grew up with, who are still some of the most important people in my life.  I'd put my life on the line for them, and they'd do the same for me.  

Quite frankly, I've got a lot of hope for you.  I heard about your senior trip to Hollywood. I know, not everybody went -- but there's something about that adventure that I really liked. You squeezed more out of a one-night trip to California, than most people get out of a weeklong vacation by not letting even a moment slip away.  

If you pursue your dreams with even half that enthusiasm, there's no end to what you'll be able to accomplish. Go for it.  

And that's what I want to talk to you about this evening. You've got deep roots here in the form of family, a strong community, and friends who will grow and change with you for the rest of your lives.  That's wealth worth more than cash, and I'm asking you to spend it well. Think big.  Don't settle for too little.  

In our country today, a lot of forces have conspired to hold working people down, to downsize our dreams.  Don't let them.  We're at a crossroads.  We have great challenges, and we can have a great future.  We need your energy, your optimism and, perhaps most importantly, your willingness to believe in and create a better tomorrow.

I can recall quite vividly what it was like to be where you are today. I remember in high school, that sometimes I felt as if I were simply waiting.  Waiting to graduate.  Waiting for a job, for college, for a chance to live on your own.  Waiting for your own opportunity, to enter a world of freedom, and choices where you can leave your mark.  

And while the possibilities before you glow in the perfect way only untested potential does, they won't solidify into paths forward unless you've got a plan, and the strength to follow it.  

Consider this. The iron works in Pennsylvania have suffered lately.  But you know how they worked.  Massive piles of iron were melted down.  Left alone, that molten iron would have hardened into a useless lump.  But patient and skilled hands of workers turned it into the bridges and ships, cars and tools that built America.  

The future is a bucket of molten iron.  

What I'm asking is that you own your passions and your dreams, and take the steps to transform them into reality.  And that's just as important, whether you're heading off to college, or the military, or staying right here in Greene County.  

Later, years from now, you're going to recall scenes from today.  Certain songs on the radio, maybe.  A moment with your friends.  On my graduation day, I was thinking about goodbyes, and graduation parties.  We're not so different. I've seen what you guys are planning on Facebook.  Don't look shocked.  All I can say about that is:  Please be careful.  Take care of each other.   

And help each other demand what you dream.   

After high school, I followed my family into the mines.  Working down there in the stifling and dangerous dark, where the sound bounces off the walls, my father and grandfather helped me figure out how to work my way through college.  It took me seven years, and then I earned a law degree, and by age 33, I was president of the Mine Workers Union.  

When I think of what made the difference for me, I remember a moment when I was in my mid-30s.  I had just eaten at my parents' house in Nemacolin, and was headed out the door, going back to Washington with my friend Tom.  

As we walked past my father on the porch, my dad said, "Wait. Have you got your watch?"  

I said, "Yes."  

"Do you have enough money?"  He was reaching for his wallet.  

"Yeah, Dad, thanks," I answered.

He settled back into his chair and said, "OK. Have a safe trip. God bless you."  

As I swung the car door shut and we drove away, I felt humbled in a way I can't quite explain.  Had I been younger, I might have been impatient or embarrassed, even.  I was president of the Mine Workers, and my father wanted to make sure I had my watch and some pocket money.  That day it simply felt sweet.  

And, quite frankly, that's often how he and my mother prodded me to give my best.  

There were times in my 20s, when I labored in the mines and studied at night, that I thought I'd give up, but I didn't. I'm proud of that, but I couldn't have done it alone.  

Many of us in this room feel that way about you.  

Like my father and mother, I want to offer my support, but I also intend to extract a promise from you.  

I'd like to ask the graduating seniors to stand now.  Just stand up where you are.  I'd like to say a few things directly to you.      

When I remind you of the choices facing our country, and when I tell you stories about the way we support each other here, what I'm really asking is for you to dream big.  There is nothing you can't do, if you keep trying.  I'm asking for your best.  

But no one expects you to walk your path alone.  We're here for you.  Working together is the only way any of us can ever achieve our dreams.  

I'm not going to check to make sure you've got your cell phone and enough money in your pocket.  But when I say I'm here for you, I mean it.  I promise.  As the president of the AFL-CIO, I'm thinking about you when our unions are doing everything we can to create the jobs and the economy we all need to succeed.  

Will you make me a promise in return?  Will you?    

I'd like each of you to think about whatever it is that you're almost afraid even to hope for.  Will you dream it?  

Picture that dream.  Will you seize it?  

If it's hard, if you fall, will you ask your family and friends, to give you support and get back up?  Will you try again?  

Thank you.  And let me give some advice -- it's another thing my Dad always told me:   Don't let anybody divide you.  Fight for what's right.  And fight twice as hard against what's wrong.

We're going to take this country back, but we need your help.  I don't expect you to solve our problems tomorrow, but Greene County and America need everything you can contribute. 

You've got to be brave enough to believe and to care.  

Your dreams may change.  Your plans may evolve.  But don't settle, don't sell yourself short and don't just go along, whether it's because other people tell you to, or because you're afraid to take a risk.  

In your own way, by your own lights, go forward from here to turn your dreams into reality.  And like Dad said to me, "Have a safe trip.  God bless you."