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A little anxiety is a good thing. It will keep you on your toes. After drinking from the fire hose of orientation, repeatedly losing your way as you explore the campus, trying to memorize the names of all your new friends, and adjusting to the nocturnal noises of your roommates and neighbors, why shouldn't you be anxious?

I too was once a worried freshman, tormented by run-of-the-mill sources of dread, like my foreign language and science requirement and an obnoxious roommate. But my greatest fear was that I might be so conventional that all my new classmates would find me boring and utterly predictable.

I suspect that most of you have, to date, lived somewhat conventional lives. If you hadn't learned to play by the rules and meet the expectations of teachers, coaches, directors and other adults, you probably would not have excelled in the classroom, on the playing fields, on the stage, the concert hall or elsewhere. And thus you would not be in college.

But none of you wishes to be boring and predictable. It is healthy and natural that you want to write your own script.

We believe that our decisions shape our destiny, and as first-year college students, you have the opportunity to make many decisions: your major, career path, friends, values. You can even redefine your identity and ditch that dorky childhood nickname for a cool new one. Most important of all, you'll decide whether to get up and go to class on time. You would think that with somebody paying $200 an hour for you to attend class, that last decision would be a no-brainer, but … .

Some script choices are so shopworn that I will not dwell on them. Coping with the stress of all these changes by binge drinking, for example. Talk about a cliché!

And there are other assumptions that might guide your choices even as you think you are writing a truly original script. Stereotypes are an efficient way to categorize people: Why bother getting to know these interesting classmates the admissions staff has chosen for you when you can simply cast them as character actors on the basis of religion, sexual orientation, major or hometown?

There are other scripts that first-year students are likely to carry. One is the script of immortality — bad things can happen, but not to you. You are the hero of your story, and the hero always comes out on top, no matter how many risks you take. Except in real life we know that isn't always true. Perhaps you should realize that, in addition to being the hero of your own story, you may be the vulnerable sidekick in somebody else's script and take appropriate precautions.

Faculty members and administrators are not your parents, nor do we want to be. We want to be your colleagues, mentors, advisers and guides — but if you find yourself reverting to some clichéd script about revolting against parental interference, don't take it out on us. Wrong script, wrong situation.

Sometimes you will find people who wish to cast you in their own scripts. See such occasions for what they are: an invitation to surrender your independence of thought and analysis. Ignore that script and make up your own mind about issues on the basis of facts rather than ideology.

Here's one final script you should look out for: This is the assumption that the play began the moment you stepped on stage. You may be the star of this act, but there have been many acts and many stars before you, and, God willing, there will be many more in years to come.

Your campus offers you important opportunities that were achieved by those who went before you. Don't take them for granted, and don't assume that your college was a sleepy, complacent little backwater until you arrived on the scene to shake things up with your brilliant and original insights!

Brilliant you well may be, but you might want to check first to make sure that your assumed brilliance is not simply ignorance of the past. And don't forget that now that you are on stage; it is your responsibility to contribute something positive to the performance.

Respect the work that has been done before, but resolve to build on it and leave the college better than you found it.

This was adapted from his Aug. 25 convocation address to the freshman class.