 Thank you, Yizir. And now we will hear from the student elected to speak from the bachelor's class of 2016, Alexis Farmer. Alexis is from Detroit, and she has excelled here at the University of Michigan academically, as well as in the community, through her extensive service and engagement activities. She has completed a number of policy internships, including work for Governor Rick Snyder and gubernatorial candidate Gretchen Whitmer. She's a columnist for the Michigan Daily, writing bi-weekly articles on political and social issues. And she's mentored dozens of younger students, supporting the successful transition of underrepresented students from high school to college. In recognition of her leadership, she was given the MLK Spirit Award this January. Alexis graduates with university honors, with a BA in public policy and a minor in international studies. She has secured a position as a research and program associate at the Brennan Center for Justice in New York. And I'm so pleased to welcome Alexis Farmer to the podium. Alexis. Everyone doing okay so far? Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life. Rest in peace to Prince. My fellow four school students, soon to be alumni, family, friends, faculty, and staff. We gather to celebrate and acknowledge one of many transitions in this thing called life. Graduation is a point of transition, a pivotal moment in life in which we must reflect and commemorate our journeys at the University of Michigan and the Ford School. This thing called life that we are living is filled with glorious and arduous endeavors, each of which contributes to the development of our character. Our character comprises of the mental and moral qualities that are distinct to our individual egos. The Ford School has challenged both of these dimensions, questioning our intellectual and ethical ethos in uncomfortable ways. I had an idea that the policy-making process was a difficult decision-making procedure, but my first simulation of this experience occurred in Public Policy 320, an introductory course for BA students titled Politics, Political Institutions, and Public Policy. During one of our lectures, we were discussing human rights and counterterrorism, specifically in the Middle East, in order to better understand the challenges confronting terrorism, which laws and norms apply, and the roles of individuals, institutions, and unofficial actors in the policy process. The discussion was framed by narratives of who a terrorist is, as defined by the media and propagated by political rhetoric. While I recognize that 320 was an introductory course that covered a wide range of issues with insufficient time for depth, I sense the fear of a single story being told. I was uncomfortable in a classroom where terrorism only seems to be attached to foreign affairs, when there is domestic violence happening within our borders, such as rampant anti-blackness and unlawful police shootings, mass shootings invading safe spaces known as schools and churches, and the criminalization of homelessness. I felt compelled to speak, but I was anxious to do so. I was very aware of my identity as a black female and very cognizant of the space that I occupied in the classroom. I did not want to be the angry black girl, but in that moment I was okay with owning that title because it was less about me and more about what had been left unsaid, and so I spoke up. To my surprise, my classmates acknowledged my bravery once the discussion had ended, and my GSI even offered me the space in office hours to further dissect the issue. This moment was only the beginning of many conversations within the Ford School, in which my classmates and I had to reckon with the dissonance embedded in the policy process. Speaking up taught me that growth demands a temporary surrender of security. There will be many times in life where we find ourselves uncomfortable, and when we need to expose a little vulnerability, whether that's in the classroom, like quantitative evale, that struggle, okay, you feel me? Okay, the holiday party mentioned, a little embarrassing, right? Okay, or the diversity, equity, and inclusion townhouse, or the workplace. We allow ourselves to be honest, fully present, and committed to working through these uncomfortable moments. We are better able to address and adhere to the truth. It is imperative to recognize how our identities are directly tied to our pursuit of justice in order to recognize the truth. We must apply the lessons learned from our moments of internal and external conflict as we prepare to become public servants. Those lessons are pertinent for those of us who are seeking to be a part of the same institutions that are responsible for deteriorating conditions of human equality. There are government establishments that have undermined public trust, perpetuating dehumanizing policies that fracture independence and liberation, such as a display of anti-queerness in North Carolina, environmental injustice in Flint, and immigration discrimination from Syrian refugee intake, just to name a few examples. In our efforts as public servants, we have a moral and mental responsibility to not perpetuate the structural violence that is ever present in our society. Now, more than ever, do we need to be active solicitors of peace and security. In an article by New York Times columnist Roger Cohen, he observed, it seems as we grow older, we are haunted less by what we have done than by what we have failed to do, whether through lack of courage and attention or insufficient readiness to cast caution to the winds. What's done is done, but the undone is another matter. In the spirit of the MLK symposium theme, hashtag who will be next, I charge that all of us have the courage, attention and sufficient readiness to adjust the policy problems that have been left undone. The gravity of power that we have and will acquire as our expertise sharpens requires for us to be considerate of the spaces we occupy and thoughtful about what we do with the power that we hold. Today is a culmination of years of hard work and I have hope from my experiences after 320 that we will all continue to ask ourselves the difficult questions necessary to catalyze real and lasting change. As Maya Andrew wisely noted, history despite its retching pain cannot be unlived, but if faith was courage, need not be lived again. History has its eyes on us. We need to have the courage to honestly and meaningfully engage with the present that history has brought us in order to transform the world that we live in from the inside out. I have no doubts that we are capable of doing so. I do not wish you all success on navigating this thing called life because you all have already succeeded. You all are accomplished human beings who are going to continue to strive towards greatness defined on your own terms. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to learn from you all and from the four school community. Thank you.