哈佛校训心得体会范文 哈佛家训心得体会(4篇)

我们得到了一些心得体会以后，应该马上记录下来，写一篇心得体会，这样能够给人努力向前的动力。我们如何才能写得一篇优质的心得体会呢？以下我给大家整理了一些优质的心得体会范文，希望对大家能够有所帮助。

2022哈佛校训心得体会范文一

人总是要面临选择，当莉斯的母亲因为艾滋死去，父亲又被送去收容所，爷爷把她当垃圾一样看待的时候，很显然他一无所有了，她不得不做些什么来改变现在的状况，她需要一个机会，需要上学。

“我很聪明，我知道我会成功的，我只是……我只是需要一个机会，我需要一个机会让我从糟糕的环境中爬出来。我所知道的每一个人都是愤怒的疲惫的，他们试着活下去，但我知道……外面的世界才是更好的世界，更好的发展，我想要住在那里。”当莉斯说完这段话的时候，我意识到他开始找到自己的方向了，并对自己的未来做出了选择——读书。那么现在在看看我们自己，现在又多上年轻人找到了自己的方向，知道自己该做什么？未来会怎样？我曾经问过我几个朋友“你的小学梦想是什么？那么初中呢？高中呢？现在呢？”知道我得到的答案是什么吗？呵呵，他们是这么回答我的“小学的梦想是科学家。”呵呵挺起来很不靠谱但很棒对吗，毕竟是小学生允许我们天马星空的想象，“初中的梦想……忘了”呵呵，好吧忘了……这是答案吗？根本就是没想法，好的初中没想法没关系，我们还 有时间！“高中……不知道”哈，ok，依然没想法。“现在……不知道”呵，这个时候说不知道，20多所了依然不知道自己想干嘛，可以想象着有多可怕吗？有多少人依然是这样浑浑噩噩的浪费着自己的青春。我用了21年的时间去寻找方向，值得庆幸的是我找到了。

“一种观点给我们一种对世界的认知。”还 记得这句话吗。我们应该尝试着去拥有自己的想法，为什么要把自己的思想局限在那些条条框框里呢。

说到这我开始感慨中国教育的悲哀，小时候，老师家长会告诉我们什么事对什么是错，但我们却不知道对为什么对，错为什么错。我们只会按照他们所给的路去走，当然这样做确实很安全，同时我们也为此付出了很大的代价，我们失去了自己余生俱来的创造力和允许我们犯错的机会。有多少人就这样被扼杀在了襁褓之中。长大了，我们开始踏足社会，社会会告诉我们什么该说什么不该说，什么能做什么不能做，我们不得不尽力去控制自己的言行举止，它不会给我们太多犯错的机会。这让我们丧失了自己的观点和自我认知的能力。不过我想这并不代表无法改变，这仅仅只是需要我们的坚持和敢于尝试。

莉斯用了两年的时间读完了4年的高中课程，这看起来有些不可思议，很多时候当我们以一个常态的思维方式去看待一件事的时候很会觉得它遥不可及，但当我们决心去尝试并获得成功后在回头看自己所做的你会发现其实很多事并没有想象中那么复杂。

这让我想起了当初骑自行车从武汉到北京，几乎所有人都对我的这个想法报以怀疑的态度，包括我自己也觉得这1300多公里的行程是那么的遥远，但是我做到了，这对我的人生是一个极大的鼓励。现在我学画画，每次看到别人的作品，我都会觉得这是一次极大的挑战，我总是觉得自己无法完成这样的作品，但经过一次次的尝试，和一次次的成功后。我觉得我需要改变些什么了。

“我迫使自己向前，我必须这样……没有后路，当我意识到这点，我想我必须竭尽所能的工作，看会发生什么”好吧，这是我最喜欢的一句话，事实上当我们没有退路的时候，我么只能一直向前一直向前，然后看看会发生什么。即使不会成功但至少努力过，至少不会堕落，至少不枉此生。

2022哈佛校训心得体会范文二

“who will tell your story?”

may 24, 20xx

greetings, class of 20xx.

and so it is here—the week of your commencement. the days of miracle and wonder when your theses are written, classes have ended, and you still have free hbo. and so it may seem strange to be gathered here today, as we pause for this ancient and curious custom called the baccalaureate—but here we are, me in a pulpit and you in pews, dressed for a sermon in which i am to impart the sober wisdom of age to the semi-sober impatience of youth. now, it is a daunting task. especially since over the course of four years i have succeeded in disconcerting people on all sides of the many issues that you will soon be discussing with parents and grandparents over dinner—so in addition to a speech, for handy reference i’ve created a placemat for commencement, filled with useful phrases. such as, “it’s ‘final club,’ without an ‘s.’”

now, i am truly privileged today, for you are an extraordinary group. your 80 countries of origin do not begin to describe you.

you may remember the day when we escaped the rain at your freshman convocation, and you heard from me and a phalanx of elders in dark robes: connect, we said, make harvard part of your narrative. take risks, we told you. don’t always listen to us.

and for four years you have distinguished yourselves with dazzling variety: in what may be harvard’s most pergent dozen, you produced six rhodes scholars, including one who broke the world record for standing on a “swiss” exercise ball, plus six athletes invited to the national football league to play ball, players whose interests range from the ministry to curing infectious diseases.

you were good at long distances: you probed the atmosphere of an exoplanet; researched antibiotic use on a pig farm in denmark; and you created a pilot program that cut shuttle times from the quad by half.

you experienced old traditions: the mumps. a class color, orange. and the time-honored lampoon theft of the crimson president’s chair—this time transporting it across state lines to manhattan’s trump tower, for a staged photo op with a then dark-horse presidential candidate.

you found your way: on campus, through a maze of renovations and swing housing; onstage, doing stand-up comedy on nbc, dancing in bogota, and mounting black magic at the loeb; through the halls of business and finance, running an intercollegiate investment fund; and exposing a privacy issue with facebook’s messenger app.

you won, with style and grace: as you captured the first national trophy for harvard mock trial—by being funnier than yale; and then you shellacked the bulldogs in the game for—yes—the 9th straight year; you produced the first ivy “three-peats” in football and women’s track; and brought home the first ivy crown in women’s rugby—how “fierce and beautiful” was that!

and, of course, all this was powered by huds, since 20xx, powered with ceaseless servings of swai.

and you were just plain good: you wrote prize-winning theses on sea level change, a water crisis in detroit; you engineered a better barbecue smoker—and tested it in a blizzard; you joined the fight to end malaria; and earned the award for best hockey player in the ncaa for strength of character as well as skill; you became well connected—to alzheimer’s patients, to kids in kenya, to homeless youth; and, as the inaugural class of ed school teacher fellows, 20 of you are preparing to help high-need students rise.

and i understand you even rested with ambition, as you tried to “netflix and chill.”

you made it all look easy—all while facing blows to the spirit that have tempered and tested you. you arrived just after a breach of academic trust that, by your senior year, produced the first honor code in harvard’s history, events that raised hard questions for all of us: what is success? what is integrity? to whom, or what, are we accountable?

when a hurricane prompted the first harvard closing in 34 years, you rallied with generosity and goodwill—and did so again when we closed for snowstorm nemo—the fifth largest in boston history. and that was just a warm up, so to speak, for the winter of our misery—the worst in boston history—when you sledded the slopes of widener in a kayak.

and when the bombs went off at the boston marathon, in just your second semester, we considered still larger questions: who are we? what matters most? what do we owe to one another? you told me that you became bostonians that day, bonded to a city beyond harvard square, and to each other during the manhunt and lockdown, when the university closed for an unprecedented third time in 6 months.

who can forget the images—of the mayhem, of the people who ran, not for safety, buttoward the danger, into the chaos? the army veteran, who smelled cordite, and expecting more bombs