Good morning, Class of 2026 and your family members, friends, and loved ones. Welcome to our distinguished faculty, dedicated staff members, honored guests, and all of you who have gathered here today to celebrate this special moment in the lives of our graduating seniors.

Now, I’m going to go off script a bit here. On the stage with us today is my dear friend and the Henry C. and Charlotte Turner Professor of German and Film and Media Studies Sunka Simon. Sunka is not only a highly accomplished professor and wonderful colleague, but also the parent of one of our graduates today, and I asked her to say a few brief words before we move forward. 

Sunka, thank you for sharing your unique perspective with us. It is a reminder that none of us reach a special milestone like this alone. 

Members of the Class of 2026, let us take a moment to thank your parents, family members, and caregivers who supported your education, who cheered your triumphs, who helped you learn from the problems you confronted, and who today are filled with pride. Graduates, please rise as you are able, turn, and thank your loved ones. 

Thank you. You may now be seated. 

Each year at Commencement, we honor our retiring faculty and long-serving staff members. I ask our entire community to join in recognizing them, with profound acknowledgment of their many decades of service.

Faculty members retiring from the College include Professor of Educational Studies Diane Anderson, Howard M. and Charles F. Jenkins Professor of Quakerism & Peace Studies Ellen Ross, Isaac H. Clothier Professor of History and International Relations Bob Weinberg, and Emeritus Richter Professor of Political Science Tyrene White.

We also recognize our retiring staff members: Brian Blizzard, Environmental Services; Anna Dortone, Kohlberg Coffee Bar; William Flannery, Heat Plant; Donna Fournier, Libraries; Nick Hannon, Information Technology; Therese Hopson, Dining; Linda McDougall, Dining; Dale Nemec, Grounds; Jamie Nguyen, Dining; Andrea Packard, List Gallery; Mary Jane Palma, Health Center; Steven Palmer, Physics & Astronomy; Beth Pitts, Office of General Counsel; Lars Rasmussen, Grounds; Denise Risoli, Business Office; Theresa Rodriguez, Advancement; Trish Tancredi, Advancement; Don Thomas, Dining; Linda Weindel, Business Office; and Patti Woods, Dining.

Please join me in thanking and commemorating these long-serving members of our community who, by their wisdom, service, and allegiance, have played an important role in shaping Swarthmore's excellence and your experience here. 

I’d also like to take a moment to thank all of the faculty and staff members who worked to make this weekend so special. From colleagues in facilities and grounds, Environmental Services and Dining, to the Lang Performing Arts Center, Student Affairs, the Communications Office — and so many others — thank you for your dedication to our students and the countless hours you committed to helping all of us celebrate this remarkable milestone.  

I want to tell you about a recent experience I had. The details of the experience aren’t terribly important; what matters more is the feeling it evoked. 

A few weeks ago, some of my colleagues and I attended a meeting that took months — and a lot of intellectual and emotional energy — to prepare for. The meeting went very well; before we knew it, it was over. 

As I left the building, my first thought was, “Okay, what’s next?” And then, thank goodness, it hit me: I was denying myself a moment to breathe and reflect on all the good work that so many people put in to bring us to that moment. My colleagues and I had spent several months on a project that would be enormously important for the College now and for decades to come. But I was so focused on what’s next, that I almost missed the opportunity to be grateful for the people and the work that had gotten us to this point.  

I’m sharing this story because as I look out at all of you today, I want to encourage you to avoid the trap into which I almost fell. Many of us are wired to focus on the "Next Thing." As you sit here at your college Commencement, many of you may be thinking about what’s next: the graduation party, packing boxes, saying goodbye to friends, the first day of the new job, fellowship, graduate school. And that’s not surprising. We’re conditioned to treat our achievements like chores to be checked off a list rather than victories we actually earned and can savor.

You may be familiar with a version of the expression: "the journey, not the arrival, matters." So often, that sentiment rings true. But on a day like today, we should remember that the arrival also matters, and it matters immensely. It is proof of your discipline and your intent, your purpose and your resilience. It signifies the achievement of your ambition and aspirations. And even more than that, it is the fulfillment of the hopes and dreams of your ancestors, families, and friends. So the danger isn’t in celebrating the finish line; the danger is crossing it without appreciating what you’ve accomplished. If you don't stop to embrace your achievement, you aren’t "enjoying a journey" — you’re just running a race that never ends, and you’re denying yourself the opportunity to feel gratitude.

Your liberal arts education has helped you cultivate your capacity for reflection. Besides immersing you in the subject areas of your majors and minors, it has taught you to appreciate context, to draw connections across a variety of perspectives and disciplines, to question assumptions, and to contemplate what you’ve learned and who you are.

In his essay “The Crack-Up,” F. Scott Fitzgerald famously wrote: "The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function."

Your education has cultivated that first-rate intelligence. Your challenge now is to hold two competing truths at once: You’ll be ambitious about where you’re going, but through reflection, ground yourself in the present.  

As you look back on your Swarthmore years, I invite you to consider the important questions to which you will return in the years to come: 

• What lessons did I learn in the hardest moments I’ve faced?
• When did I change my mind or my opinions?
• How did I grow from the moments that challenged me?
• How have collaborations helped me find solutions?
• What have I learned about how I learn?

In her novel Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison wrote: "If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it."

To my mind, reflection is a kind of surrender. In moments of reflection, we stop fighting headwinds for a moment and let what we’ve already learned and experienced carry us. In the months and years ahead, you’ll experience great joy and profound heartache. Some relationships will deepen; others will fade. Job titles will change, and the economy will shift. But what you learn about yourself in your quiet moments will be a constant that guides you through it all.

So here is my challenge to you, Class of 2026.

Before you change your LinkedIn status, before you pack the car, and before you dive into the next big thing — give yourself the gift of a pause. And in that pause, think about the times when you struggled and when you found joy. Think about the faculty mentors who introduced you to areas of study and gave you confidence in the significance of the contributions you could make. Think about the staff members and friends who helped you survive your difficult moments and cheered on your successes. And think about your loved ones – family members, neighbors, friends — who never stopped believing in you and whose dreams you have fulfilled. You didn't just "finish" college. You have been transformed, and you, in turn, have helped transform Swarthmore.

Take a breath. Look around. Inhabit this win. You earned every bit of it.

Congratulations to the great Class of 2026.