Dear Class of 2021...

On Saturday, May 21, I had the honor to (hopefully) impart some encouragement and (dare I say?) “wisdom” to Princess Anne High School’s IB Class of 2021. With their senior year largely impacted by the pandemic, the majority of these students have already completed one or two college semesters, so I found it important to have them reflect on their journey, no matter how different it looked from what they might’ve once imagined.

Not to mention, all of these students were part of Princess Anne’s acclaimed IB program, so they’ve already accomplished quite a bit during their high school years, with the majority of them pursuing degrees in science, math and the like. They’re an impressive bunch and, admittedly, that intimidated me a bit more than I’d expected. What could I possibly say to them? What message would resonate most? And thus began my speech-prepping… I’m pleased to say it felt good and went well – and I even got a few chuckles and plentiful claps along the way. :)

A big THANK YOU to Mrs. Katie Liakos (an inspiring science teacher at Princess Anne High School and a beloved friend), who invited me to be the Keynote Speaker for the occasion and showed me so much support and trust.

I would’ve never considered speaking to a graduating high school class, but with the experience behind me, I can now reflect on how rewarding it was – no doubt a reminder of the importance of stories, about the power that comes in telling and sharing them, about the strength and the impact in the connections that can be made, regardless of gender, age or experience.

It’s my hope that something I said resonated with those students (and even with the educators and family members in the audience). And of course, I hope my words will resonate with you, too.

Listen to my comments, or read the full transcript, below. Thanks, as always, for reading (and listening, in this case).

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Okay, I’ll be honest, when I was asked whether I’d speak to you all today, I thought about saying no – no offense to you. I just thought, what wisdom could I possibly impart on a group of high school graduates? What do I have to say that is worth listening to? And how could I ever, I mean high school was only… That’s when it hit me. I have lived an entire 18 years since graduating high school. That’s two of you, right here….

Time flies. You will hear that a lot over the next few years. Life gets busy. Really busy, if you’re doing it right. And suddenly, you’re caught up in scheduling, planning, job interviews, deadlines, paid time off, salaries, – but also in having fun! Contrary to what you may think when you look at a 36-year-old (trust me, I remember), there’s a lot of fun involved in life after high school, too. 

So, sure, I could stand up here and talk to you about the wild ride you’re about to embark on – or many of you have already embarked on – after high school. Whether that’s college, a full-time job, a trip abroad, time is about to set itself into motion in ways you can’t fathom. And I could stand here and talk to you about what that means, about the kind of qualities you should embrace, about what it takes to make it out there.

But I’m standing here in front of a group of students who defied the odds. Simple as that. You did. Being a teenager today has been especially tough. Trust me, my generation didn’t have it easy (1999, 2001, 2004… they were tricky years), but your time in high school really has been one for the ages. Economic turmoil, sociopolitical tensions, a global pandemic?! 

Whether or not you felt ready, you were thrown into the deep end and forced to swim. And you did it all while enrolled in IB classes, may I add. I won’t pretend to know what it was like to navigate remote learning or to miss out on key high school moments with friends, but I do know a thing or two about what it’s like to wonder deeply about what comes next.

You see, I immigrated to the U.S. as an eight-year-old, clenching my mother’s hand, as we stepped into truly unknown territory with my dad and brother by our side. A stuffed bunny gifted to me by my grandmother was the only toy I was allowed on the flight from South America. I cried a lot. I cried about missing my family, about missing my friends, about missing my house, and about missing the language I understood. Suddenly, nothing made sense. 

It took me a while, a long while, to realize that the only thing that needed to make sense was who I was in relation to myself. I may be five thousand miles away from the place I called home, but the essentials were right here with me.

Those essentials: my support system, my sense of optimism, my desire to do good and be well, my boundless curiosity… those remained untouched. Those would become my currency. A new place couldn’t change them. I didn’t need English to understand them.

The little girl that disembarked that plane holding on to her stuffed bunny would go on to become the first in her family to graduate from high school and go on to college and graduate school. It’s that same girl who stands before you today, though time has rid me of the thick accent I once had.

Why dwell on who I was as a little girl? Well, it turns out that when I think of her, of who I was then and who I am still within, I learn more about life than adulthood will ever teach me.

Indulge me for a moment and close your eyes. What version of yourself do you see? What are your life’s essentials? What’s your currency? Reflect on that…

Those essentials – perhaps they’re your parents, friends, family, teachers, your commitment, courage, curiosity, conviction – ... those are all yours. They’ve been yours, and they will continue to be yours to take on your journey, wherever it may lead.

You don’t have to know the destination of that journey just yet. In fact, the trip is much more fun if you don’t! Just know what you can count on. Know what and who you want to bring with you. That will guide who you are – and no pandemic, no economic uncertainty, no sociopolitical tension, no negative influence can change your core. Circumstances will test you, sure, and there will be many tests along the way; I can’t promise you otherwise. But standing in your truth and holding your essentials close will always, always pay off. 

I’m a long way from eight and yet, I feel that version of myself almost every day. Those essentials that once helped me walk a new path in a new country also helped me navigate the sudden loss of my parents. It was those essentials that also inspired me to quit a high-paying full-time job to start my own business three years ago. It’s that eight-year-old’s love for words and her desire to do good that keeps me writing, communicating and sharing (lucky you!). 

When you walk across this stage today, you’ll receive a piece of paper commemorating and cementing the past four years, but the token of your time in high school is already yours. What has the time meant to you? What has it instilled? What has it inspired? 

What essentials have you gathered? Today is a great day to take stock of them.

No doubt they’ve already led you this far. You’re here. You’ve made it. And as cliche as it sounds – and I’m so painfully aware of how these speeches often come across – but I promise you, the best is yet to come. 

Congratulations to each one of you – and to those standing behind you, supporting you along the way. You’re a bunch to be proud of. Congrats! And thank you for having me.