Max Majireck Remarks

Thank you, Steven, for that very kind introduction. I’m truly honored to be here… and also a little terrified.

In preparation for this, I was given videos of speeches from the last five award winners. Let me just say… that did not help me at all. They were all really good! I gave them all an A. Yes, I graded them. If anything, my goal today is just to bring the average down a bit. Make it a little easier for next year’s speaker.

I want to talk about two things that don’t usually get paired together: failure… and fun.

I know. That sounds like a bad slogan. The next Hamilton slogan?

Hamilton – where failure and fun collide! What do you think Steven?

But in all seriousness, I really think this combination, this creative tension, is one of the secrets to finding joy in your work.  

Have you ever asked yourself, why am I doing this? Why did I sign up for linear algebra? For quantum physics? For …(insert hard class here)? We have lots of them at Hamilton.

Why am I willingly subjecting myself to something so hard? I think it’s in the human spirit to seek challenge. Not in an “all work and no play” sense; we all know how that turns out. For us to do hard things on a consistent basis, we must also find some element of meaning, and with meaning comes joy.

A faculty member asked me years ago how I motivate myself to teach such an unpopular subject. (First of all… why is it always ok to tell us chemists that you hate chemistry?) I told him, it’s easy for me to teach chemistry because I’m passionate about it. I asked him – aren’t you passionate about the topic you teach? He said, “I teach fascism.” Oh… awkward pause… but then he continued, but I really get fired up when my students discover the hidden connections to  social cohesion and nationalism.

There it is. We found the joy. The, dare I say, fun.

I think these are some of the key ingredients of our motivation to do hard but meaningful things. Everyone in this room has overcome failure of some sort, yet persisted. In fact, maybe you chose your concentration or your profession because it had some strangely addictive combination of challenge and fun. And challenge implies the risk of failure. Success is not guaranteed.  

And if we’re going to stick with hard things, we need something that keeps us going.

And strangely enough, that something is often learning through failure… while enjoying the process anyway.

It’s always struck me as a little funny—maybe even a little dishonest—when we hear a long list of accomplishments about someone. Because what’s missing is the much longer list of mistakes, failures, near-misses, and “what was I thinking” moments.

So the real question isn’t what did a “successful” person achieve? It’s why did they keep going?

How in the world am I standing here? Organic chemistry – the subject I teach – that was one of my worst grades in college! What happened?

The short answer: it sparked joy in my life.  

(Marie Kondo reference – that might be too much of a deep cut)

Alright. Life story.

I was born, in the late 1900s, as you kids say. (If you ever want to drop a letter grade, put that in your essay.) Let’s just say Return of the Jedi was the top movie that year and leave it there.

From a very young age, I was one of those weird kids who just… knew. I knew I wanted to be a scientist. I was curious about everything.

And by “curious,” I mean I was mixing chemicals in my mom’s basement at age 5.

Shout to my mom, and all single parents. She really fostered my curiosity. But she also had to work, so I got a lot of free time to experiment. My older siblings were allegedly looking after me FYI, my mom didn’t just leave a 5-year-old at home alone.

I was a serial mixture. That’s S-E-R-I-A-L, though it did start in the kitchen.  

(It’s your fault for choosing me to speak. You can leave at any time, and they still give you your awards!)

Much to my mom’s dismay, I would mix everything in the fridge and spice cabinet. Then I’d move on to the bathroom and hallway cabinet.

But the basement… THAT has all the exciting stuff! Motor oil, wiper fluid, laundry detergent…bleach. (Let me remind you, my mom was AT WORK.)

So, I’m a little scientist now. No goggles or lab coat, but I did have this:

(Show car tire)

My first laboratory.

This thing here is supposed to hold your matchbox cars. I used to own this exact model! Found it on Ebay for $30. (Natalie / Tina – what’s the Workday code for reimbursement on something like this?)

So, I made a little mixture matrix! Peanut butter and toothpaste here, shampoo and condition here, bleach and… copper bb’s here.  

As a professional chemist, I feel compelled to tell you now. NEVER EVER EVER mix bleach with any other chemicals except water. Seriously, it’s dangerous. I’m very lucky to have both of my eyes intact.

But if you look here though – this says for ages 3 and up. So, I wasn’t being completely reckless.

And then a lightbulb moment I will never forget. As I was showing my childhood best friend, my partner in mixing crime, all of my creations. Poking through each of the chambers with a stick, I noticed the one with bleach and copper BB’s made a bluish green solution. But, there were no BB’s. Where did they go? The bleach “ate” the copper! But how does it dissolve metal but not the plastic container holding it? I was confused, in all the best ways.

Years and years went by, and I actually thought about my bleach and copper experiment quite often. You won’t be surprised to learn I decided to go to college and study chemistry.

But college, for me, was not exactly a smooth path.

College was hard. The science topics that I loved, did not love me back. At least initially. Getting C’s on my intro physics and chemistry exams, my two favorite topics at the time, did not instill much confidence.

And then something surprising happened. My chemistry professor invited me to join his research lab. I don’t know whether he saw something special in me, or was just desperate for help, but that changed everything for me.

For the first time in a long while… science felt like play again.

There were no exams. No grades. No right answer at the back of the book. It was just… trying things, failing, trying again.

And boy were there some failures.

I once made a fuming red gas that cleared an entire floor of the science building. That was not the goal, but it was memorable.

I can still vividly recall my first Friday afternoon in the lab, where I lost track of time, staying hours past my allotted research schedule. And that’s when it clicked: the thing that kept me going wasn’t success.

It was that it was fun. The joy and the childlike wonder.

Picasso said that “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” 

Well I say that, also, every child is a scientist. (Actually, Carl Sagan said that, but maybe you’ll misattribute that quote to me someday.)

But here’s the thing. This isn’t just about science and art. It’s about what you are drawn to. Why DID you choose to major in history, in classics, in theater, in government? What sparked your interest? There must have something.  

So students – here’s one of the most important questions you can ask yourself is:

What still feels like play to you?

And if your answer is “nothing right now”… that’s not a failure. That’s just a signal. It means the search is still on – take pleasure in trying new things. Don’t be afraid to fail. We all suck at trying new things. But remember this – the expert has failed more than the beginner has even tried.

What if you lost the joy in something you used to love?

That’s ok too. It might be time to find some other journey, some other problem to work on. But you might also need a reboot.  

Sometimes, somewhere along the way—and I think many of you older folks will recognize this—we start to lose the joy.

We get serious. We get efficient. We get… professional.

And sometimes, ironically, the more “successful” we become, the less joy we feel.

I’ve seen that at the highest levels. People who are objectively at the top of their fields… and completely burned out. All work, no play. Professionally successful, but personally miserable. Never let your professional life overtake the more meaningful, and often more important, personal realms of your life.

Now, I do have to tell you something slightly unfortunate. You still have to work.

I know. I’m sorry.

And there’s this phrase you’ll hear: “Do something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

That is completely false.

Anything meaningful—anything fulfilling—will involve work. There will always be parts of your job that are tedious, frustrating, or just not fun.

We love teaching. We would teach for free.

We get paid to grade. That’s the deal.

But here’s the key: when you find something you genuinely care about—something that feels, at least sometimes, like play, then you’re willing to do the hard parts.

Not in a toxic, burn-yourself-out way. But in a purposeful way. A way that wakes up each morning, ready to fail and have some fun while doing it.

I have a few more words for you students.

You are all nerds.

And I mean that as a very high compliment. You make me optimistic about our world.

Stay nerdy. Be weird. Normal is incredibly overrated.

I always tell my daughter – why would you want to be normal? Normal is boring.

If you don’t have something you completely geek out about—something you could talk about for way too long to someone who didn’t ask—then go find that thing.

And it doesn’t have to be academic. It can be anything.

So as you go forward:

Do hard things.
Expect to fail.
Find what feels like play, or at least something that brings you joy and fulfillment.
Hold onto that curiosity you had as a kid.

You will grow older. That part is unavoidable.

But please—don’t grow up.

Stay curious. Stay playful. Stay a little weird.

And when things get difficult—and they will—remember:

Failure is part of the process.

But joy, the kind that comes from knowing you are doing something meaningful… is what makes the process worth it.

Congratulations to all of you and thank you.