 Fort school, class of 2018, seniors, where are my seniors? Yeah, MPP and MPA students, PhD students, families, friends, and loved ones. It is such an honor and a thrill for me to be up here. Thank you so much for having me be part of this important moment. And it seems, I think, a fitting occasion to pay homage to the words of one of the greatest poets of our time, the artist formerly known as Prince. Yeah, you know. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life, but first to graduate the class of 2018. Can I get a name for that? So, in all seriousness, think about the words dearly beloved for a moment. Words like these are used to welcome people, to bear witness to milestones in life from births to weddings to funerals, occasions for ceremony, for celebration and community. And so, as we celebrate this momentous milestone, I think we should pause to honor exactly who your dearly beloved are. They're the people who have invested in you in this room, who have been your sources of sanctuary and support, who have stood by you as you have pursued your goals, achieved great success and triumph, achieved or sorry, transcended struggle and disappointment. Your dearly beloved are your parents, your family members, your partners, significant others and spouses, your friends and community members, your children. Where's Angelica? Where's that baby? Yeah, there you go. Thank you. All of whom are gathered here today to pay tribute to your phenomenal accomplishment. And dearly beloved, your graduates deserve every accolade you'll hear about them tonight. There are so many superlatives that I could share to convey the depth of my pride in them. And as a parent, hi girls. I know there's nothing better than when people tell you great things about your children. But as an educator, I think the best way to do that is to tell you about what I've learned from them. Yep, thanks for this idea. So, what have I learned from the class of 2018? I've learned what it is to be truly committed in the face of great challenge when the statistics and the demographics tell you one thing and you choose to pursue your goal anyway. Your graduates have shown up time and time again and they have shared of themselves in the class and in the community. They've shown up even as they have endured the toxic stress of racism and prejudice, of entrenched power and discriminatory politics. They've seen barriers to the world that they want and they've committed themselves to disrupting and dismantling them. They've committed to interrogating the institutions that constrain their civil and human rights and they've committed to building the institutions that, in the words of Martin Luther King famously, bend that moral arc of the universe towards justice. They've reimagined a future where things have changed, where the smug inertia of the way it's always been has crumbled and a newer, more just future has emerged and they've committed to spend their lives working for it. That's the first thing I've learned. I've also learned what it is to be courageous in the face of stigma. Your students have lived their lives authentically. They've spoken openly and honestly about their experiences with mental health, with anxiety and depression. They've changed the conversation about gender identity, sharing their experiences as LGBTQ and IA. They've shared their stories as first-generation students, as low-income students, as immigrants, as non-traditional students who've taken different paths along their educational trajectories. And in doing so, they themselves have become true educators, opening the minds and the hearts of their peers, community members and their professors, allowing us to attempt to become allies in our own right. And they've done this whilst ensuring that they put the communities in which they work at the center of any process they're involved in, ensuring that we're not making policy based on our assumptions and points of view, but rather based on the contributions of those who are most affected by the work. And I've learned what it is to find common ground. I've seen your students engage in discussion around the most contentious of topics that are difficult. I've seen them begin to learn to speak across difference, as we've heard about today, to listen with empathy to others diverging beliefs and distinct lived experiences. And in a time of great political and personal division in our society, I've seen your graduates come together in advocating for policies and movements that are making our society healthier, safer and more equitable, especially for vulnerable and marginalized populations. I've seen them grapple with issues of great importance to our global future, from international trade to healthcare to criminal justice reform and climate change. And more importantly, I've seen them unite around shared principles that transcend these topical areas. Values like the fact that the zip code of one's birth should not determine their future. That all children, that all children, not just children who look like mine, deserve access to a highest quality public education. The gospel truth that black lives matter and that love is love is love. Thank you. And I've also learned that the soft, say it with me, the soft stuff matters. Come on, you guys know me better than that. So through my interactions with students, I have learned to listen, to really listen to the perspectives of others, even when those perspectives might be at face value, antithetical to my own values. And I've learned to reexamine my ideas of what is right, rather than claiming some objective truth. I've learned to offer grace instead of judgment, to consciously try to cultivate the trust that we heard about earlier, to foster the conditions for discussions that give us the space to become the people that were meant to be. Speaking up, making mistakes, respecting one another. And I've learned above all else that teaching is not a transactional relationship. Teaching is not just instruction, it's emotion and it's heart and caring about people and investing in others as human beings. And on, thank you. And on that note, I'd like to share a brief quote by one of my favorite writers, William Derisquitz, that aptly describes the bonds that I have so been blessed to have with Ford School students and our shared learning journey. Socrates remarks that the bond between a teacher and a student lasts a lifetime, even once the two have parted company. The feelings that we have for the teachers or the students who have meant the most to us, like those for long lost friends, can never go away. They are part of us and the briefest thought revives them and we know that in some heaven, we will meet again. And so, class of 2018, dearly beloved, as we gather here today to get through this thing called life, I do look forward to the time when I meet you again in some heaven, but before that I hope to continue learning from you as you run for office, as you conduct rigorous quantitative and qualitative research, as you lead non-profit organizations and philanthropies, as you engage in community organizing. I'm so honored to bear witness as we celebrate you and your tremendous accomplishments. And, if you'll forgive me, I think Prince would endorse my quoting them, that life is just a party and parties were meant to last. And so, tonight, I do hope that you celebrate this milestone like it is 1999. So, thank you, congratulations to the great class of 2018 and go live.