May Commencement Archive

Good morning, everyone, and welcome to Ithaca College’s 131st Commencement Ceremony. You can clap. 

Today is a day filled with pride, gratitude, joy, and reflection. We gather to celebrate the accomplishments of the Class of 2026 and to honor the journey that has brought each graduate to this remarkable milestone.

To our families, loved ones, mentors, faculty, staff, alumni, and friends: thank you for being here and for the countless ways you have supported our graduates along the way. Your encouragement, sacrifice, patience, and belief in them helped make this moment possible.

I would like to take just a moment to recognize and celebrate our faculty colleagues. This year, 23 faculty members earned promotion and/or tenure, and four faculty members joined our emeriti community. Their dedication to teaching, scholarship, mentorship, and service continue to shape the Ithaca College experience in extraordinary ways. Please join me in thanking faculty for their contributions to our students and Ithaca College.

Now, to the Class of 2026! Look at you. You are beautiful. The day you have been waiting for is finally here and so are you! Today is all about you and you will always be very special to me. Here’s why.

Your first year at Ithaca College was my first year as president. Over these past four years, we have grown alongside one another through moments of challenge, celebration, discovery, and transformation. Just as Ithaca College has helped shape your lives, your class has helped shape this institution during an important chapter in its history. We began this journey together and you were my first class. You will always have a special place in my heart.

This moment we are in represents more than the completion of a degree. It reflects years of hard work, resilience, growth, discovery, and perseverance. You successfully navigated challenges, embraced opportunities, and found ways to support one another through times of uncertainty and times of tremendous change. You have grown not only as students, but also as leaders, creators, scholars, artists, and advocates. Indeed, you have become citizens of the world.

Our campus theme for the year was dialogue. Over the course of the year, we explored the importance of listening deeply, engaging thoughtfully, while seeking understanding across perspectives and experiences. Dialogue reminds us that learning is not simply about speaking; it is also about listening - with openness, with empathy, and with humility.

At a time when our world often feels divided, dialogue calls us toward connection. It challenges us to confront difficult truths, to ask meaningful questions, and to engage with one another in ways that build understanding rather than distance.

As part of a tradition that began during Ithaca College’s centennial year in 1992, each graduate receives a medallion inscribed with a quotation selected by the president. This year’s quotation comes from writer and civil rights activist James Baldwin: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”

Those words remind us that meaningful change begins with naming or admitting what we see before our very eyes honestly and courageously. Change demands that we face challenges rather than avoid them, that we confront injustice rather than ignore it, 

‑‑ I don't know what's going on on that screen. But it must be good. ‑‑

and that we engage others with humility and compassion even when it is difficult. Your education has prepared you to think critically, to communicate effectively, to solve problems creatively, and to lead with purpose. But perhaps even more importantly, I pray that your education has inspired you to care deeply about the world around you and the people within it.

As you take your leave today, know this: you are not simply leaving South Hill; you are launching from it. And if I can give you three pieces of advice I offer you this: first – follow the golden rule: do unto others as you would have them do unto you; in other words, treat people the way you wish to be treated; second – choose truth and tell the truth because when you tell the truth you don’t ever have to remember what you said; third – do good and do it well because a whole lot of people are counting on you. Wherever your journey takes you, from this day forward, Ithaca College will always be your home. You will always be a part of our story, and we will always be a part of yours. From my heart to yours, congratulations! 

Hello. Thank you. Thank you for that kind introduction. it’s good to be back on South Hill!

Good morning, President Cornish, members of the Board of Trustees, faculty, families, friends, and most importantly, the graduating class of 2026.

I stand before you today truly honored and humbled to be chosen to give the commencement speech for the Ithaca College graduating class of 2026.

When President Cornish asked me to give the commencement speech my first reaction was complete astonishment and shock. I am not famous. I’ve never been on TV. With all these reality shows, everyone seems to be on TV! I don’t even have personal social media accounts like most people, so I’m not an influencer either. Why me?

Her answer was simple: “I want one of our own. I want someone our students can relate to. I want you to tell them your story.”

I see all of you today, and like me, each one of you has a story. A story that is unique. A story filled with joy and setbacks. A story shaped by countless people, your community who supported you and helped you become the person you are today.

I came to Ithaca College through the Institute of International Education, an institution established after World War I in 1919 by Nobel Peace Prize winner and President of Columbia University, Nicholas Murray Butler. The mission of the institution was and still is today to promote educational exchange among nations through students, faculty, and experienced professionals.

I still remember the day I received the phone call from the representative in Mexico, where I am from, telling me I had been selected. I felt a rush of excitement and shock. I also felt scared. I will be attending college in a different country with a different culture and a different language.

When I admitted my hesitation to my dad, he smiled, gave me a hug, and said, “Yes, you will encounter all those differences. But why not? You owe it to yourself to at least try.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was encouraging me to take a leap into the unknown, to embrace uncertainty, and to get comfortable being uncomfortable. Cultural and language differences certainly made for some embarrassing, funny, and often awkward moments during those early days at Ithaca.

I was born and raised in Northern Mexico, in a very strict, traditional, and formal environment where women and men are expected to behave a certain way, some might call it old fashioned. Men hold doors while women graciously wait. Speech is measured, and manners matter.

Well, after getting an up-close introduction to a few rapidly closing heavy doors, I understood I had to adapt very quickly to a more casual and relaxed collegiate environment. It was the 1990s. Flyers for “Take Back the Night” marches at Cornell were plastered all over campus. The phrase “girl power” was everywhere in pop culture. And Ithaca’s own WICB college radio was playing Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and my personal favorite, R.E.M.

As you can imagine, to say that every day at Ithaca was a fascinating and eye-opening adventure would be an understatement. After some time here, and after making many close friends, it finally dawned on me that the mission of the Institute of International Education was really about something we have always known; cultural differences aside, we are far more alike than we are different. We are students seeking academic excellence, who thrive in a loving and kind environment, just like the one Ithaca College provided for me, and continues to provide for all its students.

As a finance major, I was a teaching assistant to the late Professor Abraham Mulugetta. I was incredibly fortunate to have him as a mentor. He allowed me to assist him in creating the Center for Trading and Analysis of Financial Instruments, otherwise known as the Trading Room, here on campus, the first of its kind for an undergraduate institution in the United States. My involvement in this project opened the doors to many job opportunities right after graduation. In the highly competitive field of finance, it gave me an edge.

I am forever grateful to the School of Business and to Professor Mulugetta for believing in me and giving me that opportunity.

I also took part in the London program, where I was able to complete electives in the arts, history, and humanities. In an era of specialization, society often encourages us to focus only on technical expertise. But let me tell you even in finance my liberal arts education was invaluable Effective communication skills, even in this era of AI, will never become obsolete. I am grateful I was required to take courses that demanded strong writing and critical thinking skills, skills I use every single day.

Many of you are wondering, as I did when I graduated in 1995: Now what? Back then, the chatter was about this new thing called the internet, the world wide web, how it would take over the world, eliminate jobs, and change society as we knew it. And yes, all of that happened. But we adapted. We learned to live with it and even to love it. Today, we can’t imagine life without it. When we arrive anywhere, the first question we ask is, “What’s the WIFI password?”

Now the chatter is about artificial intelligence. AI. You are hearing the exact same thing: how it will take over the world, eliminate jobs, and change society as we know it. And yes, some of that will happen too. But just as we adjusted, you will too. You will adapt. You will learn to live with it and to embrace it. I’ve learned that it’s not the survival of the fittest that matters most, but the survival of the most adaptable.

In this era of bots and AI, human connection is more important than ever. Real human connection, the one where we talk to one another and have dinners together and discuss life’s greatest mysteries, yes, that kind.

I urge you to stay connected to the many friends you made here and get to know the greater Ithaca College alumni network. Stay engaged with the College. There is an immediate familiarity when we meet a fellow Ithaca Bomber. We shared this special place. We trust each other. We like each other instantly.

It was through that engagement that, during Homecoming weekend in 1996, I met my husband of 27 years, Todd Wilkowski, also an Ithaca alum. Todd was a physical therapy student athlete who, as quarterback of the Ithaca College football team under renowned Hall of Fame Coach Jim Butterfield, led the Bombers to not one but two national championships. Yeah. Go Bombers.

His college experience was very different from mine, yet equally enriching and life changing. That is another reason Ithaca College is so special: an institution that provides transformative experiences to students from different backgrounds, with different goals.

After graduation, I worked on Wall Street for several years. Later, while raising our four daughters, I was fortunate to help my husband launch and grow our healthcare company, Performance Optimal Health, now operating in Connecticut and Florida. Through our Ithaca connections, many alumni have become part of our company as well. The Ithaca College alumni network, you’ll find, truly is the gift that keeps on giving.

The definition of success looks different for everyone. For some, it means working for a large company. For others, owning a business. For some, building a family or something entirely different. You, and only you, get to define what success means for your life. Not your family. Not society. Not your friends. Define it on your own terms and go after it.

And when you achieve it and believe me, you will, pay it forward. Talk to that young person searching for answers. Offer mentorship and guidance. As the saying goes, “Helping others rise multiplies the joy of success.”

In closing, when you are presented with opportunities and unexpected changes, your initial reaction like mine may be doubt or intimidation. That’s okay. It’s human. I encourage you to embrace change. Take a leap into the unknown with faith and excitement, not fear. As a woman of faith, I find deep comfort in the words repeated so often in Holy Scripture: “Be not afraid.” 

I wouldn’t be here today if my late father hadn’t said two simple words to me on that spring day in 1991: Why not?

So, leap into the unknown, with courage, faith and excitement. And when you’re faced with self-doubt or fear, ask yourself, why not?

Congratulations, graduating class of 2026. Go Bombers!

Hello, my name is Lili Chalfant, and I am a Writing for Film, Television, and Emerging Media major - which is the longest way possible to say that I’ve spent the last four years studying how people talk to each other. So, in the spirit of learning dialogue… allow me to monologue to you for the next few minutes.

You might’ve noticed while watching a movie that characters really suck at talking to each other. Most of their issues could be solved within the first 10 minutes if they just sat down and talked to each other about the world-ending issue or maybe what was bothering them. But instead, they communicate with glances, avoidance, and conversations filled with subtext.

Dialogue in movies is structured to keep us hooked, and they do that by never getting to the point until the very end, where there’s a big speech or climactic chase scene. But if you’ve ever seen a movie, you know that the ending, more often than not, points to a very simple conclusion. 

We matter to each other. 

It’s very rare to watch a movie with only one character. Because it would be BORING. Our world may be filled with algorithms and social media posts to convince us that everyone is living their own, separate lives away from everyone else. But they’re not. We’re not. We stumble over our words, stutter, stammer, falter, and forget what things mean all the time. Dialogue is a learned behavior. Nobody is a philosopher, writer, or human being on their own. Because characters, who are yet aren’t like us, are terrible at communicating. 

We need someone to convince us to go to Taco Bell at midnight for a Baja Blast and a Crunchwrap Supreme. We need someone to tell us that the people in our group projects are in fact, idiots. And we need someone to tell us that putting “made with butter” on the periodic table in Williams 225 is the right decision. Because it is funny. 

If you haven’t seen Kung Fu Panda, I’m sorry for your loss. You now have your first assignment post-graduation. Or even here at graduation, while you’re still waiting for your name to be called.

Just kidding, please don’t do that.

But if you have seen Kung Fu Panda, as I’m sure many of us previous 6-year-olds have, then you’ll know about Jack Black voicing an animated panda and, of course, the Dragon Scroll. 

Spoiler alert ahead, but to be fair, you’ve had since 2008 to get on the Dreamworks train. 

Let me paint you a picture. Imagine you’re me, bright-eyed, bald-bushy-tailed toddler watching this movie and thinking it’s funny. But then you get to the point where Po has finally gotten the Dragon Scroll. 

When Po asks what’s going to happen when he reads it, he’s told that “no one knows, but legend says that you will be able to hear a butterfly’s wingbeat and see light in the deepest cave. You will feel the universe in motion around you… Read it, and become the dragon warrior.”

Call me illiterate, but that scroll had nothing. No words, no instructions, just his reflection. 

You might be saying, “Lili, but it’s a movie, so it’s purposeful, it has a point.”

Well, 6-year-old me didn’t know that. When Po is leaving, and his dad tells him that the secret ingredient to his famous secret ingredient soup is actually nothing, I thought they were out of their minds. That’s ridiculous. 

“To make something special, you just have to believe it’s special.”

Are you joshing me right now? I wanted an actual answer because there’s no way that was it. Now? As a still bright-eyed, bald-bushy-tailed 23-year-old? I get it. He’s right. Might’ve taken me almost two decades, but I got there. 

There is no secret formula. There is no three-act structure to follow. No perfect way to do anything in life other than self-belief and maybe some soup. If anyone tells you they know the meaning of life or that they’re certain about anything, don’t believe them. It’s a marketing tactic. 

If there’s anything certain in this life, it’s that everything is uncertain. We spend so much of our time questioning the meaning of things, our purpose, our strengths, our weaknesses, our identities. But in the process of trying to define these things, we forget that our lives are, by definition, undefinable. Because tomorrow we’ll be different. 

In the course of our lives, we will be asked to decide, define, and commit to identities and ideas that we’ll eventually outgrow. Our social media posts may remember, but we won’t. Because who we are will never be certain. 

We are not characters in movies because we live inside the one we create every day. We learn, we grow, we regress, and we try again. We’ll have jobs, we’ll lose jobs. We’ll show up thirty minutes early and sometimes thirty minutes late. We’ll be asked to describe lessons we’ve learned and obstacles we’ve overcome, and our answers will change every time because we’ve changed with them. 

When we graduate, there will inevitably be people asking us, “what next?” My personal go-to answer is unapologetically a nap… Followed by, “are you hiring?”

People are not jobs. We are not what we do or what even we like to do because give it a year or two and it’ll probably change. If life really were all about having or finding or getting a job, then we wouldn’t have names. Because then my name would be “unemployed,” and we can’t all be called the same thing.

I learned what real dialogue was in the basement of Rowland lounge with my neighbors Alex and Cassidy, where I learned that saying “just one more episode” really meant watching another four. 

In the hallway of Terrace 3, I learned that starting a 5-minute conversation on my way to brush my teeth really meant I wouldn’t be able to go to bed for another three hours. That I would end up agreeing to arm wrestle, leg wrestle, compare glasses prescriptions, play Beyblades, and even build a fort in the lounge with the unintentional support of Park film equipment. Thank you, PPECS. 

I learned what real dialogue was in the passing moments I took for granted. In the moments I roasted my friends or decided to keep talking to someone even when I was running late to class. I learned it in the dining hall by having conversations full of interruptions, insults, inside jokes, and internet references with people I didn’t know would mean more to me than any accolade or award on my resume.

Every movie tells us that the purpose of life isn’t found in the cinematic or beautiful moments that make up the plot, but in the ones that are cut from the final edit and left out of the script. The ones we decide are special with the people who make them special. 

If Ithaca has taught me anything, it’s that meaning isn’t found in the milestones but in the moments that don’t go according to plan. The ones we almost skipped, but someone convinced us to go to anyway. The moments we really didn’t think would matter… until they were the only ones that did. 

Writing movie dialogue has taught me that characters don’t find the meaning on their own. And neither can we. Dialogue only works when someone has the courage to speak, and when someone else has the kindness to listen. 

And that’s what Ithaca has given me. Not a formula for the perfect script or a scroll with instructions to my destiny but friends who showed up and stayed long enough to make the ordinary moments matter. Thank you for making life worth remembering… And… thank you for being my secret ingredient.