The Last Lecture
Last Lecture Series
北京赛车pk10将输改赢 www.dfcfafa01.cnA lot of professors give talks titled "The Last Lecture." Maybe you've seen one. It has become a common exercise on college campuses. Professors are asked to consider their demise and to ruminate on what matters most to them. And while they speak, audiences can't help but mull the same question: What wisdom would we impart to the world if we knew it was our last chance? If we had to vanish tomorrow, what would we want as our legacy? For years, Carnegie Mellon had a "Last Lecture Series." But by the time organizers got around to asking me to do it, they’d renamed their series "Journeys," asking selected professors "to offer reflections on their personal and professional journeys." It wasn't the most exciting description, but I agreed to go with it. I was given the September slot. At the time, I already had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, but I was optimistic. Maybe I'd be among the lucky ones who'd survive. While I went through treatment, those running the lecture series kept sending me emails. "What will you be talking about?" they asked. "Please provide an abstract." There's a formality in academia that can't be ignored, even if a man is busy with other things, like trying not to die. By mid-August, I was told that a poster for the lecture had to be printed, so I'd have to decide on a topic. That very week, however, I got the news: My most recent treatment hadn't worked. I had just months to live.