Good evening everyone — families, friends, faculty, and the class of 2025. I am so honored to have the opportunity to speak to all of you tonight. It’s truly incredible to reflect on how far we’ve come.
Graduating today feels like peeling back the final layer of wrapping on a gift we’ve slowly been unwrapping for years — each layer revealing more of who we are, what we love, and who we’re becoming.
It’s like when we were little on our birthdays, staring at a big, beautifully wrapped present that had been sitting in front of us all day. We’d slowly tear away the paper — first the corners, then the sides — our excitement building with each rip. That’s what these past four years have been: a slow and sometimes messy process of uncovering ourselves through every challenge, every friendship, every late-night study session and every unexpected win. And now, as we step into the next chapter, we finally get to open the gift—not to find something finished, but to begin building what’s inside.
And yes—it can be scary not knowing exactly what that is. The future is this big, unopened mystery. But getting to this moment, where we can open the box, is something worth celebrating. It means we’ve made it through the unwrapping. We’re here.
Along the way, we’ve all faced challenges—some we’d never want to relive, and others that made us stronger and will stay with us forever. One of the most formative moments for me came when my dad was sick with cancer. I remember walking the tidepools at Sunset Cliffs one evening, worrying and fearing for the future.
And then something unexpected happened. I found a shell, about the size of my hand, marked with red outlines in the shape of lungs. Two healthy lungs. With no tumor between them. And suddenly, in that moment, a wave of hope washed over me. I realized the future might be uncertain, but just having hope — that was enough to keep going.
Now, whether that was a sign from the universe or just a beautiful coincidence, I carry that image with me. And I’ve come to believe that as long as we have hope, we can face anything.
I know that all of you have faced challenges as well over the past four years and maybe years before. And that’s why being here today matters so much. We’ve all earned the right to open our boxes — uncertain contents and all.
And yes, there will be obstacles ahead. But even in myths like Pandora’s box — where every evil in the world was released — one thing remained: hope. One bright, shining thread that made everything else bearable. If hope can survive there, it can survive anywhere — even in a college dorm at 2 a.m. before finals or when the alarm goes off at 6 a.m. for work. We just have to keep reminding ourselves of that.
This next phase — whether it’s college, the military, or the workforce — is an exciting one. It is a time where we can explore ourselves on a deeper level, forge new connections, and try new things. I love imagining my future, but I’ll admit — I don’t always have a clear picture or everything planned out. Sometimes, I wish it were all mapped out to save me the stress. But I’m learning that this uncertainty is a gift, not a flaw. We are at a moment in life filled with opportunity — and I’d rather try and fail than not try at all.
And if we remember Ms. Mellina’s motto — “failure leads to success” — then by failing, we’re actually succeeding… eventually, right?
I’ve always struggled with not knowing what comes next. I like plans. I like perfection. But I’ve learned that perfection isn’t the point. Growth is. And every day we wake up in good health, we have a chance to grow, learn, and become better versions of ourselves.
I believe that we are part of a generation of innovators, entrepreneurs, artists, athletes, influencers — and yes, people who submit their assignments at 11:59 p.m. — and claim they’re not procrastinating.
But in all seriousness, don’t take your opportunities for granted. Be grateful for each morning you get to wake up, learn something new, and chase a dream. No dream is too big. Mine is to help cure cancer one day, hopefully alongside Dylan, and I used to be hesitant to share that, but now I realize: almost anything is possible. The only person that can truly hold you back…is yourself.
And although I’m not the wisest person here today, my advice to you, class of 2025, is this: when you tear off the final bit of wrapping paper and throw open that box — dream big, keep trying when you fail, and always, always remember the power of hope.
