Muppet Mentorship

In late May, Kermit the Frog gave a commencement address. He did so at graduation ceremonies for the University of Maryland, alma mater of the late Jim Henson, the father of the Muppets. From his very first utterance one thing was clear to all in attendance: There was a throat in this frog.

Kermit’s well-received words were the fetching fruits of independent thought, refreshing for their absence of a political axe to grind. He was, in short, nobody’s toady. Still, not everyone in College Park leapt for joy over where the selection committee had landed for a commencement speaker.

Some questioned whether the affable amphibian was an appropriate choice to give the address in our highly polarized era. I, for one, submit that this is precisely why he was so apt a selection. The felted frog’s preternatural positivity is the perfect prescription for truly troubled times like our own.

Who better unblinkingly to stress the importance of working together than a puppet who is lifeless without a little help from his friends? It’s the evolution of graduation speakers that today most come from a platitudinous platoon who reheat the same anodyne remarks year after year; not Kermit. At this stage he’s not just out to pad his resume.

In fact, the last such talk he gave was in 1996, when the tale-telling tadpole addressed the young charges of Southampton College. It may not be easy being green, but to book speaking gigs over the years I doubt he’d have needed to pull any strings. Kermit simply had time to reflect on his address in College Park, and spoke because he had something to say. 

With a self-control I lack, Kermit did not overdo the frog puns, tempting though it must have been in describing the imminent leap into adulthood. His themes of finding your people and making connections were winsomely delivered, with characteristic compassion and without tongue in cheek. Still, there were critics who stood figuratively over him with scalpels, ready to dissect every single word.

To these naysayers I ask: Is there another Muppet who would have fared better? Animal might have pleased the fraternity crowd, but that’s about it. Beaker would’ve been too frenetic, Cookie Monster too ungrammatical, Sam Eagle too jingoistic, the Swedish Chef too indecipherable, and Statler and Waldorf too negative. 

No, choosing Kermit, like Michael Corleone’s description of Tessio’s betrayal in The Godfather, was the smart play. And speaking of smart, it’s wise to recognize not just the graduates themselves but their parents in the audience who made so many sacrifices along the way. This is where Kermit stuck the landing.  

He did so by deploying his secret weapon, closing with “The Rainbow Connection,” the iconic song from The Muppet Movie. For parents in the crowd - many of them members of Generation X - the science is settled that it’s impossible not to join in this singalong, from the first banjo chord to the last note. 

Perhaps the best gift Kermit the Frog gave all the Maryland Terrapins, those who approved and disapproved of him, will not be appreciated for years. As time passes, many forget who gave their college commencement address. That is unlikely to happen for anyone in University of Maryland’s Class of 2025.   

Mr. Kerrigan is an attorney in Charlotte, North Carolina.