I want to begin by thanking all of you for being here today. I would also like to express my gratitude on behalf of the Class of 2026 for your support throughout our time at Providence. Whether it was driving us to school in the morning, reteaching lessons we just couldn’t understand, or cheering us on in our biggest moments, you’ve shown that we always have someone who cares about us and wants us to succeed.
We couldn’t have asked for a better community to be with us as we take this final step in our high school journey.
I would also like to thank my parents and sisters. They’ve always pushed me to do my best and supported me in every moment. It was my parents who encouraged me to value knowledge and my education, and they believed in me so much that I learned to believe in myself.
And my sisters have been my best friends forever. I may be biased, but I think they might be the funniest, nicest, most amazing people in the whole world. Being around them makes me want to be the best version of myself.
And finally, the person I want to thank the most is my twin sister, Lauren. Something you may not know is that Lauren is ranked 3rd, just below me. The difference in our GPAs may have been something as small as an A versus an A−. Now, sometimes people ask me if we’re competitive, and to that I say yes — but in the best possible way. We’re always trying to be better than the other one, and I think we do it so much that we end up pushing ourselves to be the best we can. We’re also really happy for each other’s successes. All this to say, Lauren is probably the reason I’m standing up here right now, and I’m so blessed to have her in my life.
And now, to my fellow graduates…I can’t believe I’m saying this right now, but—
We made it.
Four years ago, we walked these halls not really knowing where we were going — literally and figuratively. But since then, we’ve learned how to solve problems, meet deadlines, and overcome challenges we didn’t think we could handle. Together, we’ve grown up here: in classrooms, on fields, on stages, and in all the quiet moments in between.
But as much as we’ve learned, I don’t think the most important test we face is academic. It’s not a final exam. It’s not a college application. It’s not even what career we choose. The real test is much simpler… and much harder.
It’s how we treat people.
Because we’re stepping into a world that doesn’t always make that easy. A world that can feel divided. A world that moves fast, judges quickly, and often asks us to decide who belongs — and who doesn’t — before we’ve even taken the time to understand each other.
And in that kind of world, whether we realize it or not, we’re constantly choosing between two paths.
One path is easy. It’s the path of certainty. Of quick judgments. Of putting people into categories and stopping there. It’s comfortable. It’s familiar.
The other path is harder. It asks more of us. It asks us to listen when it would be easier not to. To stay curious when it would be easier to assume. To see people as fully human — even when we don’t understand them, even when we disagree.
And that path… is love.
Not love as a feeling.
Not love as something soft or passive.
But love as a choice.
Providence was shaped by many Catholic teachings — but the most important one is the simplest one.
“Love your neighbor as yourself.”
Not just the neighbor who is easy to love. Not just the neighbor who thinks like us, looks like us, or agrees with us.
Every neighbor.
And that’s not a soft idea. It’s a demanding one. Because it asks us to recognize the dignity in every person — to believe that every person is made in the image of God, whether we understand them or not.
That’s not always easy. But it is clear. And of all the ways we can go about our lives, it’s the only way that actually works.
Because love isn’t about agreeing with everyone. It isn’t about avoiding hard conversations. And it definitely isn’t about pretending differences don’t exist.
Love is the discipline of refusing to reduce people to labels.
It’s choosing to treat someone with dignity, even when it would be easier not to. It’s choosing to listen before you respond. It’s choosing to care about people, not just opinions.
And I’ve seen that kind of love here. I’ve seen it in classmates who supported each other when things were hard. In teachers who believed in us when we didn’t believe in ourselves. In friendships that didn’t depend on being the same, but on showing up anyway.
And I’ve experienced it personally. There have been moments when it would have been easier to stay quiet, to keep my distance, to make assumptions instead of asking questions.
But the moments that mattered most — the ones that actually changed me — were the ones where someone chose to reach out instead. Where someone chose understanding over judgment. That’s what stays with you. Not the arguments you win. Not the labels you carry.
But the way you make people feel.
So as we leave here, I don’t think the question is what we’ll achieve. I think the question is who we’ll choose to be. Will we choose the easy path, or the meaningful one? Will we close ourselves off, or will we stay open, even when it’s uncomfortable? Will we add to the noise, or will we be people who build something better?
The world doesn’t change all at once. It changes in moments. In the way we speak to someone. In the way we listen. In the way we show up — especially when it’s difficult.
So here’s my hope for all of us: that we choose to listen a little longer. That we choose to assume good before bad. That we choose to treat people with dignity consistently, not selectively. We won’t all agree. We won’t all see the world the same way. But we all get to decide how we show up in it.