 I am the Vice President for Equity and Inclusion and Chief Diversity Officer at Manholio College. It is a gift for me to be in community with each of you. Every day we must work towards building a world where the racial injustices that we've seen in the United States this year are behind us. And we can finally eliminate the racial hierarchies that are ever present. A few years ago, at this very same moment, our new Interim Vice President for Academic Affairs, Dr. Mosby, reminded us of the importance of building the, quote, the loved community. Signing another great orator who gifted us with his presence at Mount Holyoke and ancestor of ours, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We have begun this new year with a new anti-racist action plan that can only be fully actualized if we challenge ourselves to have radical empathy and compassion for one another during these twin pandemics. It is important to acknowledge the particular ways that our histories have aligned and found us at the point where we have the privileges which will be ours once again of enjoying the beautiful physical place and now virtual space we know as Mount Holyoke. We would like to begin this important event in the life of the college known as Convocation by acknowledging that those of us in western Massachusetts are occupying the land once resided upon by the known Atuk people. We would also like to acknowledge the neighboring indigenous nations, the Nipmuc and the Wampanoag to the east, the Mohegan and the Pequot to the south, the Mohegan to the west, and the Abenaki to the north. Please consider the lands where you reside in the presence of the original inhabitants of that land, who are most impacted by settler colonization and may have been forcibly removed. As we begin this morning celebration, I want to thank you for joining us on this important reflection. I'm Karina Strelik, class of 1990, and the Chair of Mount Holyoke's Board of Trustees. On behalf of the trustees, I welcome all of you from around the world to the 2021 academic year. This is Mount Holyoke's first virtual Convocation. While we would rather be filling the amphitheater with class colors, dancing and singing, our enthusiasm and welcoming you at the start of the year is as robust as ever. We are here because of the pathbreakers who came before us. We will be stronger than ever because of all of you. Mount Holyoke is your community. Continue to shape it. Build the future you want. Challenge yourselves to stretch your perspectives, knowledge, and impact. Mount Holyoke has always been uncommon. This year will be no different. Embrace each other, stay connected, and have a fantastic year. Good morning. Good afternoon. Good evening. Greetings from Mount Holyoke, wherever you may be in the world. My name is Sonia Stevens. My pronouns are she, her, hers, and I'm present of the college. This Mount Holyoke is not how Convocation is supposed to be, or at least it's not Convocation as we've known it. Our Convocation could not be further from social distancing. We pack into the amphitheater, share warm hugs and water bottles, chant class loyalty, and sing our hearts out. It's the most joyous and the noisiest of gatherings, celebrating your arrival or return to campus. It is to use a base form metaphor, our home opener. Convocation has serious academic roots. It is a call to academic pursuits in community, led by a group of scholars, this amazing faculty, who normally process in symbolic colors that speak to higher education's history and to their learning and specialism, to their collective belonging here, and their connection to you, and to other forms of membership that form a bridge between this intellectual community and others. It is a moment that marks membership, a bonding ceremony of sorts. It is, as I said on this occasion in 2016, an enactment of our collective incorporation, and most importantly, of Mount Holyoke's regeneration. It celebrates a newly constituted community, welcoming new students, faculty, and staff. It lifts up the community for belonging to be a part of this social fabric, and to make our conversations not only about the challenges of community, but about the possibilities of community. This ceremony, like so many others in higher education, and especially at Mount Holyoke, is a dialectic between the communal and the individual and the universal in particular. Convocation is then the opening stroke in a symbolic circle that binds you together through graduation and the new beginning that is your commencement. In that sense, it celebrates and connects you, Class of 2024, and all new transfer students to the seniors. Class of 2021, for whom this is the first of many lasts, as well as to the classes of 2022, 2023, and all of our Francis Perkins scholars. It celebrates to the graduate community that is also a part of Mount Holyoke. It joins Lyons to Griffins, as well as to Pegasi, Sphinxes, Phoenixes, and now Owls. Like other traditions, Elfing and Big Little, just to name just two, Convocation helps to connect new students to returning classes, and connects all of you to generations past and future in shared experience, and in the friendly rivalry of class colours and spirit, class symbols, and complementing, competing, and sometimes even conjoined costumes. So sitting here today in the uncommon quiet of campus on Convocation Day, dressed in a costume myself, in academic regalia for a procession that must this year be only in the mind's eye, I find myself reflecting on what virtual Convocation represents, on this tradition in this most challenging moment, on how we will together build spirit and community in these times, on what it means and what it will take to be closer apart. In our virtual MNCs this week, last year, Priya Rao, Class of 2023, and your SGA Vice President, asked me and others about our favourite traditions at Mount Holyoke. I love them all and I miss them all. So last year's question also invited reflection on traditions as an intentional piece of history gifted from one generation of students to the next in continuity and connection. In campus traditions, Bronner comments that campus traditions refer inevitably to connection to the past, to people, to place. What links these three is symbolised in many ways by the Laurel chain and parade that binds the graduating class to each other and to others before them. The alums who share their success and line their path through an inheritance represented both by experience and by a shared sense of place that goes beyond bricks and mortar. Over the last 50 years, the number of traditions at Mount Holyoke has doubled. New symbols, rights and events have been developed that better express the interests, needs and identities, the commitments of the student body and the social purpose and cultural work of this community. As Azulina Green, Class of 17, pointed out in a Mount Holyoke blog, traditions are constantly evolving so that, for example, what was called Freshman Day in the early 1900s became Paising Day by the early 1940s and since 1989 has been known as disorientation or diso. The strand of green beads I wear today in honour of the graduating class is just one of the many that were left under seat cushions, hung from plants, hidden in drawers and anywhere they could later, gradually and joyfully be discovered. Some still with the anti-Alma Marta attached. In this fun act of hiding the beads, the classes of 2017 and 2021 literally left their mark all over the President's house, claiming their presence and reclaiming a tradition for themselves through interpretation and invention. Without rediscovery, without such invention and reinvention, traditions do not live on or grow and they become history rather than legacy. Interrogating our history and traditions opens up new possibilities and horizons. As Pelican asserts in the vindication of tradition, we must resist the deadly effects that tradition has on insight and on progress. And instead, see traditions as heritage and through rediscovery, refinement and reinvention, and indeed the invention of new traditions, both intellectual and collegiate, to find a starting point, not only in making important connections of every kind, but in developing further, changing, improving, understanding, culture and community of which you are now and forever apart. Traditions then empower those who participate in them, while having a pervasive, far-reaching influence on the life and culture of the college. What I learned from these Beads Class of 2021 is that the real importance of our traditions, like a manhole education, is an invitation to insert yourself into the conversation of history, to bring yourself and your ideas, and so to contribute to understanding, to the narrative of the colleges and the worlds present in order to have an influence on their future. Now as I reached this point in the writing of this convocation address, I happened upon another connection, this time through social media. A Facebook friend and academic colleague shared that her daughter Nora had published her first op-ed in a university newspaper. Nora is a first-year student at an institution that, like manhole, places great value on its shared traditions. In this op-ed, Nora writes that while she understands the desire to perpetuate important campus traditions, the virtual versions lose the heart of them, providing instead just another glimpse of what we're missing, of the traditions, she says, we simply couldn't follow. She continues, instead of perpetuating traditions through adaptations that diminish their experiential value, I challenge our class to build our own new ones. Let's create new ways of being members of the same community. By acknowledging the shared, disturbingly different reality, the class of 2024 may in fact become the most tightly lit of all communities, and we may also wind up innovating along the way with some new traditions to carry forward far beyond the pandemic. And so manhole, this is not convocation as we know it, as we have known it. In so many ways, we do not want the world and its legacies to continue in the ways we've known. It's an invitation, and in so many ways, from the excavation of manhole's history as a part of our anti-racism plan, to our Common Read, the 1619 project, and even and always to the examination and renewal of our most beloved traditions, to bring new vision to what we know, to bring new questions to the legacies of history and time, to reject certain kinds of traditionalism in order to renew tradition. Engaging in manhole oak traditions like this one is to ask how you might engage creatively with them, and to see them in the opportunities for our future and for our community. To see in them the opportunities for our future and for our community. This too is the adventure of a manhole oak education. To take what you have as heritage now as task, as Goethe said, for thus you will make it your own. Welcome to a new academic year, manhole oak. Make it your own. Greetings. My name is Olivia Aguilar. I use she, her pronouns, and I'm the director of the Miller-Worley Center for the Environment and Teach in the Environmental Studies Department. It is with great honor and excitement that I welcome the class of 2024 to manhole oak college, as you will be the first in a great many things. And a very warm welcome back to our returning students, our Francis Perkins scholars, graduate students, and especially our seniors. I think I can safely speak on behalf of the campus to say we are both thrilled and humbled that you have decided to take this journey with us, especially in these unprecedented times. Having only arrived here myself in January, and only being on campus a few months before the world turned upside down. I can relate to those of you embarking on a new journey in such uncertain conditions. I study how communities can influence learning, specifically how we can learn in communities to be more sustainable. And not in my wildest dreams did I imagine a future in which physical distancing would dictate the way in which we work, play, live, or teach. There is no rulebook or guide for what we are dealing with. As I grapple with the current situation, I recognize the importance of flexibility and resilience, as well as the power of the liberal arts, regardless of the form it might take. William Cronin once wrote about the 10 qualities a liberal arts student often exemplified. I won't bore you with the whole list, but as I reflected on the summer, the value of the liberal arts became so apparent. For instance, Cronin writes, more than anything else, being an educated person means being able to see connections that allow one to make sense of the world and act within it in creative ways. A liberal education is about gaining the power and the wisdom, the generosity and the freedom to connect. And didn't we see that during this remarkably unusual summer when the world forced uncertainty upon us. A characteristic highly correlated to anxiety and fear, people did not hide from it. Instead, people met uncertainty by playing music to their neighbors, using science to study vaccines, creating art to lift spirits, relying on history to learn from pandemics of the past. People were engaged in the liberal arts as they connected a variety of disciplines to meet the most challenging time of our lives. And they sought connection with each other, despite the vast distance forced upon us. And then, in the midst of the pandemic, we heard a desperate cry for a mother from an ordinary man who ultimately became a symbol of the fight for justice. To be clear, what happened to George Floyd was not something new for this country. It has continued to happen since. But Mr. Floyd's death led to a sea change of awareness around anti-blackness and anti-racism. I credit human empathy with how our fellow citizens reacted to the injustice of violence against black people in this country. And again, in this sea change, I see the value of the liberal arts. For Cronin writes that the liberal arts education celebrates and nurtures the growth of human talent in the service of human freedom. We are all here today because we believe there is something inherently important about higher education. As a first generation college student, I know my college education has provided me with opportunities I might not otherwise have had. And I'm not just speaking about career opportunities. I'm talking about the opportunities to expand my understanding of the world so that I could better empathize with others and so that I could ultimately connect. We are here to learn together, not just about the disciplines, but to learn so that we may better serve. What a beautiful education to be a part of. I hope you're as excited to take this journey with Mount Holyoke College as we are with you. Mount Holyoke students, on behalf of the approximately 700 staff members, I extend to you a heartfelt welcome across the miles. My name is Wendy Rua, and I am the co-chair of the staff council and the program coordinator for the teaching and learning initiative. As an alumna from the class of 1994, when I say to you that you will soon become familiar with the phrase Mount Holyoke forever shall be, please know that those words have never held more meaning than they do today. How do I know this? Because I have been connected to Mount Holyoke since I was an anxious firstie, dropped off by my parents for my first live away experience at Tory Hall in 1990. I never ever imagined I would one day have the opportunity to speak to incoming students at their convocation. But here I am. And if there's one thing that I believe in with all my heart, it is the importance of building community connection. I'm proud to be part of a group of staff members that work tirelessly and diligently to ensure that the Mount Holyoke experience is for all of you, one that forever shall be. The spirit of Mount Holyoke is in the joy of the beloved milk and cookies tradition. There's nothing better than gathering with friends for MNCs. Fun fact, many alums still gather together to support each other and to share stories by hosting virtual MNCs. The spirit of Mount Holyoke is when you experience the chiming of the bells on Mountain Day. The day is memorable and the tradition lives on, for even alums will join you from across the miles. You become a part of something so much bigger than just having the day off from academics. This year, while you won't be able to see staff members at the top of Skinner Mountain welcoming you with cheers, ice cream, donuts and tattoos. Please know that we are still supporting and cheering you from a distance. The spirit of Mount Holyoke is when you doubt yourself, you feel scared, become overwhelmed or question your ability to reach your academic goals. That staff around our community will be there to remind you that you can. Mary Lyon said, go where no one else will go, do what no one else will do. Staff will be there to shine a light to see your path forward. The spirit of Mount Holyoke can be felt when you are walking the campus. Even the visual of our beautiful trees reminds us that the roots of Mount Holyoke are strong. Staff members will miss seeing you on campus at the gym and the dining commons at concerts, lectures, the semester. We will still be busy with our work in Litz, the centers, within the academic departments, in student life and beyond to ensure that you have an amazing, albeit different, experience this year. Remember, different can be amazing. Just think of the unimagined possibilities. I'll end with a short story about what it means to be in community and to be part of something bigger than yourself. In my hometown, I am an elected official on the school board. This year has been fraught with challenges about how to keep students in K to 12 public education safe and academically engaged through a pandemic. This has led to some heated public discourse during school committee meetings. After one meeting, I logged on to Facebook to see a post on the MHC alum page, which in summary said, there was this badass warrior on the school committee meeting, and when I Googled her, I found out she is a Mount Holyoke alum. And that, my friends, is why Mount Holyoke forever shall be. Because it is not only what happens in the classroom, but it is what happens when we are a part of something larger than ourselves, strong and meaningful traditions, and with deep roots. So please plant your feet solidly in the ground wherever you are. Let the professor start to water your roots, even if it's a virtual watering. Let the friendships you make nourish your growth, even if it's over a Zoom screen. And know that the staff is here to support you as you blossom. We've got this. Let's build a community so that Mount Holyoke forever shall be. On behalf of all the staff, be well, be safe. Thank you. Hi, everyone. Before I begin, I would like to start off with a land acknowledgement for where I am right now in Michigan. In naming my positionality as a non-native and as a settler, I am occupying the ancestral, traditional, and contemporary unceded lands of the Potawatomi tribe. I recognize that I am on stolen land and I extend my gratitude to the many Indigenous peoples who have rich histories here, including the Ottawa, Chippewa, and Potawatomi tribes. In naming the violence against Indigenous peoples, especially as the number of missing and murdered Indigenous women and children continues to rise, I want to name the power and leadership demonstrated by Indigenous peoples today towards racial justice and environmental stewardship. I commit to recognizing, supporting, and advocating for the sovereignty of the Indigenous nations of Michigan by offering this land acknowledgement I seek to affirm an Indigenous sovereignty. Hello, everyone. For those of you that don't know me, my name is Maya Sepuri. I use she, her pronouns. This year I am the president of the SGA, the Student Government Association, and I am so happy to be with you here today. Welcome. I want to give a giant Mount Holyoke-sized welcome to the class of 2024. I know that we're already well into classes, but I think today marks your official induction into our community. Go Blue Lions! And then hello to our wonderful class of 2023. Congratulations. You survived your first year at Mount Holyoke, and now you're well on your way to being halfway through your college journey. Go Yellow Sphinx. And then as a member of the class of 2022 myself, I obviously have a stop spot for the juniors. And while I miss everyone, I especially miss all those phenomenal people. Go Red Pegasi. And to the class of 2021, you did it. You're making your way through your fourth year here. I am so excited for all that you've accomplished and all that you have yet to accomplish. Go Green Griffins. And last, by no means least, welcome to our amazing transfer students and fantastic Francis Perkins scholars. I am so happy that you are joining our Mount Holyoke community today. Welcome everyone. As I was sitting down to write this speech, I struggled to think of something that has not already been said. These are unprecedented times. We're in a moment in history, you know, with everything that's going on. What could I even actually say that would come anywhere close to adequately capturing what it means to be alive right now, or at the very least a Mount Holyoke student? And the truth is, there isn't anything that I can say. There isn't a single thing that I could say to you all today that would make up for the fact that this isn't what we thought this year was going to look like for ourselves. However, I firmly believe that Mount Holyoke is not just a physical place. It is the friends, peers, staff and faculty that make it what it is. While we may be spread out across the globe, time zones, countries, continents and circumstances, the Mount Holyoke community continues on through the connections that you have made and you have yet to make. So please, this year, take the space and time that you need. Bust the relationships that are important to you and watch them grow. Put yourself out there and reach out to the people you want to get to know. And most importantly, please be kind to yourself. This is a scary and challenging time and we have a very long journey ahead. However, I know that we will all embody the Mount Holyoke spirit of resilience and perseverance. I look forward to going on this journey with all of you. Thank you. Congratulations to the Class of 2021. Woo! And welcome to our home, everyone. Thank you, Maya. Thank you to all of our speakers, the wonderful Mount Holyoke Convocation Choir and the Five College West African Music Ensemble. And on this Labor Day, we express our gratitude to all the workers, seen and unseen, who contribute their labor to our college and to the United States. As we bring to a close this year's virtual convocation, I invite you all to join the Mount Holyoke Choir in singing the Alma Mater. The words are printed on the program. The West African Music Ensemble will then perform again and that will conclude our program. Thank you for being with us in community today. Please stay safe wherever you are, wherever you may be, and maintain the connections and the spirit of this gathering wherever you may go. The courage of writing is the color of our Alma Mater, thy song. So from east and from west, how we gather and unite in a promote a Mount Holyoke, forever shall be, shall be. Through the heart of a new day, raise the life of the old days that live of people what we can give. Sown and soft in a whisper of colors, for the treasures are not by the King. Our achievements, our hopes, and our glorious faith shall answer Mount Holyoke to thee.