Good morning. Let me first thank my presidential colleague Val Smith, the Swarthmore Board of Managers, the faculty and the selection committee. It’s a distinct privilege to share this honor with fellow alumni Judith Sandalow and Talia Young, as well as with Colman Domingo, to whom I gave an honorary degree just last year at American University.
Colman – this is a nice tradition. Where can we go next year?
I also want to thank my wife Mary Ann, who has supported my dreams and is here with me today; my parents and family, who encouraged me to follow my dreams to Swarthmore; my college friend Margaret Huang, who got me re-engaged by doing a Swat Talk with me recently; and my Swarthmore roommate and best man Alex Gavis, who has always encouraged and inspired me.
In my few moments with you today, I want to share a story about a shy, introverted student at Swarthmore many years ago. This student – yes, me – was unsure of his place in the world and struggling with homesickness.
I was with several male and female friends having a philosophical discussion in my dorm room one weekend — sound familiar? — when there was an unexpected knock on the door. Upon opening it, I was surprised and puzzled to see my pastor from the tiny First Presbyterian Church of Chili, N.Y., on the outskirts of Rochester.
Reverend Bruinsma surveyed the scene and seemed unsure of what to make of this group in their weekend PJ garb – although I can assure you that nothing untoward was going on! He quickly recovered and told me he had accepted a new position at a church in nearby Springfield, Pa. “Now you’ll have a church to attend every Sunday morning!” he exclaimed. Before I could respond, he said he would pick me up the following Sunday, since I had no car, and introduce me to the congregation.
That first Sunday in church, Reverend Bruinsma proudly announced my presence and told everyone I would need a ride every week to get to church. He also told them I had sung with his former church choir and should be recruited for theirs. Again, before I could respond, a kind couple named George and Jackie, who were members of the choir, raised their hands and volunteered to pick me up each week – for choir practice as well as for Sunday services!
George and Jackie turned out to be angels I had no idea I needed. They took me under their wing and out to brunch every Sunday. They eventually got me a summer job at the Philadelphia Naval Yard. And most of all, they essentially adopted me as a member of their family and established a vital link to the local community that enriched my college experience. Their example taught me how simple acts of kindness and hospitality can make a big impact on someone’s life.
Doors have continued to open in my life in unexpected ways, usually because someone I didn’t know extended grace and took a chance on me. As a young lawyer at a big private law firm, I knocked on the door of the U.S. Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights after falling asleep in the library while working another late night and awakening to see an ad in a publication about public interest jobs. While at the Department, Jeanette Lim — a trailblazing Asian-American attorney and leader — saw something in me and became a mentor who inspired me to spend my career in higher education.
Our backgrounds are nothing alike, but we found we had many common interests. Jeanette showed me the importance of opening doors for people who don’t necessarily look like you, or have the same gender, ethnicity, or life experience. This was a revelation for a young man from Chili, N.Y., where we thought we had a lot of diversity because we had both Catholics and Protestants. Over the years, I have taken that lesson to heart by serving as a mentor for many women and people of color through programs for aspiring leaders in higher education.
Many years later, I knocked on the door at James Madison University — where a bold search committee made the non-obvious choice of selecting a lawyer to be their president after several search consultants told me I could never be a college president given my career pathway. I learned from that experience that you should never let other people define or limit your capabilities or your dreams.
I’ll never forget that knock on my dorm room door at Swarthmore, and I ask you today to think about the doors you’ve encountered in your life. For me, my parents and teachers opened doors to get me to Swarthmore. My wife, daughter, and new son-in-law have opened doors to blessings I never expected. My friends have opened doors to new ways of thinking and seeing the world. And many other mentors and colleagues opened doors for me to get to where I am today.
So ask yourself: Who opened doors for you to get to this moment today? On what doors will you choose to knock in the future? For whom can you open doors, and to what end?
These questions go to the essence of our humanity, and I hope you’ll keep knocking on and opening doors for the rest of your life. Thank you, and congratulations to the Class of 2026!
