(original includes photos and video)
MOVING ON
By JEFF ZASLOW
WSJ
A Beloved Professor Delivers
The Lecture of a Lifetime
September 20, 2007
Randy Pausch, a Carnegie Mellon University computer-science
professor, was
about to give a lecture Tuesday afternoon, but before he
said a word, he
received a standing ovation from 400 students and
colleagues.
He motioned to them to sit down. "Make me earn it," he said.
What wisdom would we impart to the world if we knew it was
our last
chance? For Carnegie Mellon professor Randy Pausch, the
question isn't
rhetorical -- he's dying of cancer. Jeff Zaslow narrates a
video on Prof.
Pausch's final lecture.
They had come to see him give what was billed as his "last
lecture." This
is a common title for talks on college campuses today.
Schools such as
Stanford and the University of Alabama have mounted "Last
Lecture Series,"
in which top professors are asked to think deeply about what
matters to
them and to give hypothetical final talks. For the audience,
the question
to be mulled is this: What wisdom would we impart to the
world if we knew
it was our last chance?
It can be an intriguing hour, watching healthy professors
consider their
demise and ruminate over subjects dear to them. At the
University of
Northern Iowa, instructor Penny O'Connor recently titled her
lecture "Get
Over Yourself." At Cornell, Ellis Hanson, who teaches a
course titled
"Desire," spoke about sex and technology.
At Carnegie Mellon, however, Dr. Pausch's speech was more
than just an
academic exercise. The 46-year-old father of three has
pancreatic cancer
and expects to live for just a few months. His lecture,
using images on a
giant screen, turned out to be a rollicking and riveting
journey through
the lessons of his life.
He began by showing his CT scans, revealing 10 tumors on his
liver. But
after that, he talked about living. If anyone expected him
to be morose,
he said, "I'm sorry to disappoint you." He then dropped to
the floor and
did one-handed pushups.
Randy Pausch and his three children, ages 5, 2 and 1.
Clicking through photos of himself as a boy, he talked about
his childhood
dreams: to win giant stuffed animals at carnivals, to walk
in zero
gravity, to design Disney rides, to write a World Book
entry. By
adulthood, he had achieved each goal. As proof, he had
students carry out
all the huge stuffed animals he'd won in his life, which he
gave to
audience members. After all, he doesn't need them anymore.
He paid tribute to his techie background. "I've experienced
a deathbed
conversion," he said, smiling. "I just bought a Macintosh."
Flashing his
rejection letters on the screen, he talked about setbacks in
his career,
repeating: "Brick walls are there for a reason. They let us
prove how
badly we want things." He encouraged us to be patient with
others. "Wait
long enough, and people will surprise and impress you."
After showing
photos of his childhood bedroom, decorated with mathematical
notations
he'd drawn on the walls, he said: "If your kids want to
paint their
bedrooms, as a favor to me, let 'em do it."
While displaying photos of his bosses and students over the
years, he said
that helping others fulfill their dreams is even more fun
than achieving
your own. He talked of requiring his students to create
videogames without
sex and violence. "You'd be surprised how many 19-year-old
boys run out of
ideas when you take those possibilities away," he said, but
they all rose
to the challenge.
He also saluted his parents, who let him make his childhood
bedroom his
domain, even if his wall etchings hurt the home's resale
value. He knew
his mom was proud of him when he got his Ph.D, he said,
despite how she'd
introduce him: "This is my son. He's a doctor, but not the
kind who helps
people."
He then spoke about his legacy. Considered one of the
nation's foremost
teachers of videogame and virtual-reality technology, he
helped develop
"Alice," a Carnegie Mellon software project that allows
people to easily
create 3-D animations. It had one million downloads in the
past year, and
usage is expected to soar.
"Like Moses, I get to see the Promised Land, but I don't get
to step foot
in it," Dr. Pausch said. "That's OK. I will live on in
Alice."
Many people have given last speeches without realizing it.
The day before
he was killed, Martin Luther King Jr. spoke prophetically:
"Like anybody,
I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place."
He talked of
how he had seen the Promised Land, even though "I may not
get there with
you."
Dr. Pausch's lecture, in the same way, became a call to his
colleagues and
students to go on without him and do great things. But he
was also
addressing those closer to his heart.
Near the end of his talk, he had a cake brought out for his
wife, whose
birthday was the day before. As she cried and they embraced
on stage, the
audience sang "Happy Birthday," many wiping away their own
tears.
Dr. Pausch's speech was taped so his children, ages 5, 2 and
1, can watch
it when they're older. His last words in his last lecture
were simple:
"This was for my kids." Then those of us in the audience
rose for one last
standing ovation.
Write to Jeffrey Zaslow at jeffrey.zas...@wsj.com3
