2024 Commencement Address

Congratulations, Class of 2024. And thank you. As individuals and as a group, you have given so much to one another and to Haverford. You have devoted yourselves to your coursework, pushing yourselves to develop new skills and mindsets that leave you fully prepared for the academic opportunities that await you next year and beyond. You have applied those skills to your extracurricular pursuits, creating new interests and finding success in local, state, national, and even global competitions. You have performed brilliantly on stage, earning the admiration and ovation of thousands, and awards to boot. You have worked tirelessly in the athletic arenas, making sacrifice after sacrifice in pursuit of your growth and your teams’ successes, and as a result have won league, state, and even national championships. You are the rare class that never lost the sweater. You gave courageous, vulnerable, and wise reflections on topics such as overcoming a physical handicap so that it doesn’t shape your conception of health and wellness; on preventing the limited optics of college placement from defining the deeper substance of who you are; and on losing a father and learning to work through the grief to focus not just on what you lost in the past but also on what you have in the present. And, perhaps most importantly, you always made yourselves available to younger boys to care for and guide them. In these ways and more, you provided outstanding leadership during a year in which communities – especially school communities – desperately needed it. And now, it is time to say goodbye. 

Saying goodbye is never easy. Over the past few months, in our kitchen over breakfast sandwiches, we talked about the challenges of saying goodbye. I was touched by how open you were in sharing your fears of leaving your friends, teachers, parents, siblings, pets, and childhood bedrooms. Those fears stem from love. You love one another. You love this community. You love your families. And we love you. Saying goodbye to something you love is hard. And yet, learning to say goodbye is a skill that you will need, and teaching you to do so is perhaps our final lesson in preparing you for life. 

The first step in that process is acknowledging and sharing your emotions; giving in to the complexity of nostalgia, anxiety, excitement, gratitude, and regret that you might be feeling. You have passed that test with flying colors.

The second step is reflecting on what it all has meant. What are the lessons learned, the wisdom gained? What has been the transformation that you have experienced from the moment you first stepped foot onto this campus until now? Beyond the assignments, performances, competitions, service projects, dances, blackjack burgers, and bench ball games, what did you learn and how will you apply that to the lives that you are about to commence? Brady’s Latin inscription on your class flag is apropos. So much has changed and will change; but what will endure?  

Your answers to that question will be as diverse and dynamic as your class, and as Mr. Martinelli so poignantly articulated, will evolve as you deepen your experiences beyond Haverford. Because of that, I am hesitant to say which lessons or relationships will emerge as the most salient. The world is too unpredictable, your futures will be too varied, and the lessons are too numerous for that. 

I do, however, feel comfortable naming what I hope, above all else, you have learned here and will take with you. And that is to do hard things. This might seem counter-intuitive; after all, doesn’t the preparedness represented by those diplomas mean that you will have an easier path in life; that you will have an easier experience at college, an easier process securing an internship or acceptance to graduate school, an easier time finding “success,” however you choose to define it? 

I hope the answer to those questions is yes. But I also hope that Haverford has taught you that the only way to find that success is through doing hard things; to take challenging classes, to extend yourselves to others, to think deeply, to act with virtue, to set high bars, to have the courage to zig when others zag, and to do what is right rather than what is easy. More specifically, I hope that in an age of increasing pessimism, you live with optimism. That in period of increasing selfishness, you live selflessly. That in a world that often presents arguments in oversimplified ways, you seek complexity and nuance. That in a time of increasing certitude, you live with curiosity. That in a society that is increasingly acquisitive, you live with generosity. That in an age where people often begin with answers, you lead with questions. That in a globe that is increasingly disconnected, you find genuine connection. 

Often in commencement addresses like this, speakers encourage graduates to find and pursue their passions. I certainly hope that in the years to come you will find your passions. What sometimes gets left out of that message, though, is that the word “passion” comes from the Latin word passionem, which means “suffering.” The only way for you to find and pursue your passion is to suffer, to choose the hard path. 

You know this to be true, as your successes as a class, and your love for Haverford and for each other, are the result of the sacrifices you have made. Individually and collectively, you always went above and beyond. You worked harder in the classrooms and studios because you trusted that it would expand your thinking and develop important skills. You were vulnerable on the stage giving Reflections because you understood how that vulnerability would stretch you and impact the audience. You joined clubs because you knew those extra hours would provide community, joy, and extra practice at an activity that interested you. And you chose to support one another, even when focusing on yourself would have been more efficient or convenient because you believed in the value of support, courage, and community. Your individual transformations, the profound bonds that you feel as a class, and those accomplishments that I referenced earlier are proof that you have already internalized the importance of choosing the difficult path. Your challenge is simply to apply that to the lives you now begin. 

If you need role models for this, look no farther than your teachers and your families. The faculty and staff here make enormous sacrifices because of their belief in the transformative power of education, their belief in Haverford, and their belief in you. They have chosen a harder path because it is their calling, their passion. Similarly, your families have made tremendous sacrifices in choosing to send you to Haverford. They could have enrolled you at a school that demanded less of them and of you, but they chose the harder path because of what it could do for you. Find wisdom, motivation, and purpose in their sacrifices. 

And, of course, look no farther than to your left and right. Just as Mr. Martinelli’s classmates have provided each other with support, wisdom, and inspiration for 45 years, I hope you all will continue to, as Asa often says, “show up and show out” for decades to come. 

This brings us to step three in the process of saying goodbye, which is to stay in touch. This is not a goodbye, but a farewell, a see you soon. Keeping in touch with each other and with Haverford will be challenging in the years to come, but that is yet another hard task that I hope you will embrace. The amount you engage with each other and with Haverford as alumni will define the amount that you continue to receive from each other and from this community. We are here for you, and we will be with you always.

We will miss you, class of 2024. It is hard for us to say goodbye given the love we feel for you, but we do so with pride for who you are, excitement for you will be become, and confidence that you leave us fully prepared for all that life will bring you. 

Thank you.