President Sian Leah Beilock, Remarks as Delivered

Live at Radio City Music Hall

Congratulations, Barnard Class of 2023!

How amazing it is to be here today at Radio City Music Hall, with a class that is going to hold a special place in my heart forever.

Before I start my remarks, I wanted to say a thank you to Lena for that fantastic speech. And on your birthday no less! I hope that you’ll always remember today, but just to make it a little more special, I'd like to invite Bacchantae to help us wish you a happy birthday. 

And, now, members of the Class of 2023, it is my distinct privilege — and honor — to make my final Remarks to the Candidates, to you.

It is often said that college can feel like a cocoon: an insulating place that protects you from the harsh realities of the outside world.

The Class of 2023 did not get that memo. You have seen more in four years than most could imagine: 

A pandemic that made us reimagine your freshman year.

A nationwide, long-overdue reckoning with injustice.

The loss of community members who should still be with us here today.

Through it all you have not only endured, but you thrived. 

You grew closer. 

You became fierce advocates for yourselves and each other.

We could not be more proud.

This class will hold a special place in my heart for another reason, too. 

As many of you know: This marks my last Commencement address as the president of this incredible institution. 

We are taking new steps together.

That can be nerve-wracking, I know.

It is in these moments — when we are thrown out of our comfortable surroundings and into a space that feels unfamiliar — that we can feel like frauds.

When things go well, we tell ourselves we got lucky.

When things don’t, it feels inevitable.

As we emerge from the pandemic, we’re seeing jumps in stress. Work-related burnout. The disappearance of work-life boundaries. 

All affecting young people and women, in particular, at high levels.

The challenges of this moment are real.

So today, I want to offer you four tips — not 10, just four — as someone who has been through a few moments of change.

These won’t sound traditional. But I hope they make sense in time.

Tip #1: Do not worry if they have Chapstick in Michigan.

To understand what I mean … we need to go back a few years, to a time when I was the same age as most of you.

I’d just earned my undergraduate degree in cognitive science from UC San Diego.

And my then, and I mean then-boyfriend and I — emphasis o the n then — packed up our lives in a U-Haul. We were headed for East Lansing, Michigan. Life’s big next adventure, where I had been accepted into a Ph.D. program.

The whole world was in front of me.

And yet, the morning we were scheduled to leave … I panicked.

As our U-Haul was pulling away, I began insisting that we could not get on the highway yet.

That I needed, desperately, to go to CVS. Because … I needed Chapstick.

Not because my lips were currently chapped.

But because I thought: They might not have Chapstick in Michigan.

Let me repeat: I thought they might not have Chapstick in Michigan.

It turns out they did exist in Michigan.

But even if it hadn’t … I could have found a way to survive. I was just scared of what came next.

Embrace the uncertainty as your new culture. 

In East Lansing, this meant pizza and beer on Saturdays at 10 a.m. before Big 10 football.

I do not recommend this as a long-term strategy. 

But you often find yourself holding on to things you know are good, safe, and comfortable. It’s human nature.

So don’t worry if they have Chapstick in Michigan.

Your new surroundings will be different, but your life will be richer for it.

Tip #2: Take the hard notes.

At every college address I’ve attended, I was told to go out into the world with confidence — to never let self-doubt creep into my mind.

But you should go into the world full of confidence and as a graduate of one of the best institutions in the world. And embrace that self-doubt will trickle in. Inevitably.

My own research has shown: A little self-doubt can actually be your friend.

It’s a cue to look around, evaluate your situation, and seek feedback.

Asking for honest feedback is one of the hardest things we can do as human beings.

The first time I set foot on Barnard’s campus, I was nervous to talk to my team, and I believe they were nervous to talk to me.

But the best things we’ve achieved have been the result of direct feedback, not just from my staff and faculty but students too.

I remember talking to one first-generation student at a coffee chat.

As many of you know, Dean Grinage and I hold these several times a year for students to talk about, well, anything.

This student pointed out that it was proving extremely difficult to get the money she needed to present her research at a conference she wanted to go to in New Mexico. But we have a program for that, I said.

She then told me she had to go to three different offices to figure out how to access certain forms and resources.

“I just can’t spend all my time doing that,” she told me.

Out of that feedback, Access Barnard was born. It’s one of the programs I’m most proud of, helping make the transition to Barnard easier for international, first-generation, and low-income students.

Out of more feedback came some of our guiding pillars, which have led to: the most diverse student body in our history. More STEM graduates than ever before. Our focus on physical, mental, and financial health. And more.

Feedback and learning are often uncomfortable.

But research shows that when we are told that simple fact, that learning is uncomfortable, we tend to seek out perspectives that are different from our own. There’s research that shows this. When we’re told that learning can be uncomfortable, Republicans spend more time reading The New York Times. And Democrats are more likely to watch Fox News.

It's in that discomfort that we find ways to grow. We understand our own opinions and what we like and don’t like.

Stay in the room after a meeting at work. Go for a drink with colleagues. Find a feedback buddy. Carve out 30 minutes a week.

Listen to — and learn from — them. It will make you better.

Tip #3: Have your “Rosie” ready.

As many of you know, our family decidedly did not have a dog when I arrived on campus.

My daughter, Sarah, was not happy about that.

I was reminded at every dinner.

I was reminded again at breakfast.

And yet … I was stubbornly against change.

It was a journey to change my mind.

There were tears. There was even a Barnard-wide petition. 

[joking] Thank you for that, by the way.

But it only took a once-in-a-century pandemic for Sarah to wear me down.

The exact moment I told her I’d come around … Sarah had the plan ready.

She told me her best friend, Isabella, just so happened to be getting a dog, a Cavapoo. That Isabella’s dog just so happened to be named Daisy.

And here’s the kicker: That Daisy just so happened … to have a sister named Rosie that was looking for a home.

Who was I to be an obstacle?

Sarah was right. But it took a well-planned argument to get me there.

Many of you will soon find yourself in a workplace with people who have been there for quite some time.

Many of them may be hard-to-move on certain issues, like I was.

Understand that which you seek to change.

Learn the counterarguments. Understand the obstacles.

And when the moment is right … spring the plan.

You will be amazed at what is possible. Which brings me to my final tip.

You belong.

You are entering the world at a fascinating moment.

We’re seeing an entire wave of baby boomers — tens of millions of people — exit the workforce and positions of leadership at the exact same time.

And it’s at the exact same moment so many critical fights are being waged: on climate change. Freedom of expression. On the future of work. On diversity.

There is an enormous leadership gap to fill.

If you feel overwhelmed — or have that dreaded feeling that you may not belong — remind yourself, that feeling is normal. We all go through it.

Research shows just doing that one simple thing — reminding ourselves that this is normal, that everyone goes through it — can help us feel better and perform our best.

Think back to those first few moments on campus. Feeling like a first-year student, admitting and thinking to yourself that your admission to Barnard was a fluke. That you “tricked us” into admitting you.

I’ll remind you: That would mean we are not that smart.

You didn’t trick us. You belonged. You had to prove it to yourself. 

You belong out there, too.

And your story has just begun.

I can't wait to see where you go from here. 

Congratulations, Class of 2023. We’re so proud of you.