to hope, optimism & limitless skies

A couple of weeks ago, I flew to Providence, Rhode Island, to witness my niece — my sister’s daughter — graduate from Brown University. Julia, and I say this without any hyperbole whatsoever, is brilliant. She double-majored in astrophysics and archeology, and now, she’s off to Johns Hopkins University to pursue her PhD in astrophysics. What I’m saying is, if there’s life in outer space, I have no doubt that Julia will find it.

So away I went, joining my sister and her family for all the Brown University festivities. Julia was very excited to show us around campus, and we soaked up everything she shared. We met her classmates, graduate students, and even professors, all of whom said lovely things about our sweet Julia, of course, but who also shared their joy about their own futures after graduation, or their roles in stewarding young minds in their chosen careers.

Finally, Sunday arrived, the day of the true pomp and circumstance. It turns out Brown University is big on tradition, and the seven-hour celebration included processions through the streets of graduate students, professors, and alumni from each previous graduating class. (The oldest of the alumni was from the class of 1950 — 75 years ago — and he walked alone. It was a melancholy, noble moment.) Finally, the professors, alumni, and graduate students lined the streets as this year’s graduates jubilantly paraded among them. It was absolutely jubilant.

The alumni walked with their class, and many carried signs, like these: “Only computer science majors had email!” And “Brown tuition, room & board was $10,195!” (It is decidedly more than that today.)

*This was the procession of the 2025 graduates of the medical school. Congratuations, doctors!*

I’ve been to graduation ceremonies before, of course, including a couple of my own. But in the past, I’m not sure I saw them as much more than a celebration of accomplishment, the culmination of hard work. But this felt different. It felt so hopeful. It felt so joyful. And I haven’t stopped thinking about the people I met in the four days I was there: from the Trinidadian physicist and professor who gushed to Julia’s proud parents about their daughter, to the young trans activist who spent so much of his time connecting with me and showing me such kindness, to the student leaders who took various stages and microphones during the day and spoke to their fellow graduates with obvious and genuine affection. And in this year, when the acts of governments against their own citizens feel so regressive, when there have been unspeakable acts of terroristic bigotry and hate, when genocides are playing out around the world, when billionaires seem to care about nothing more than earning more billions while their fellow citizens suffer, and when technological advancements seem to be more focused on the isolation rather than the connection of humankind, it was lovely to see instead a community of young people celebrating each other and being celebrated by their mentors. Of course, who knows what the goals of these young people are, but for those few days that weekend, it felt like connected joy and the promise of a better, more positive, more optimistic future.

So congrats to you, class of 2025, no matter what diploma or degree you earned, no matter what school or technical college or university or trade school you attended, or whether you just scraped by or graduated magna cum laude. May you use your newly minted credentials to make the world better, and may you never lose your sense of wonder at the possibility of an interconnected world.