Commencement Speech 2026

Earlier this year, I was walking through Quincy Market and noticed a T-shirt in a storefront. At first, I chuckled at the joke, it was a bit of science joke, but then it got me thinking. And over the past three months, I’ve continued to contemplate the image on this shirt.

Before I tell you about what I saw, let me ask you a question. Have you ever been told you are a “glass half full” or “glass half empty” person? Have you ever told someone that they must be a “glass half full or glass half empty” person?

The premise behind this is that people see the world in two different ways- the optimists see the opportunities, a glass half full, while others see what has been lost.

I always had trouble with this. The idea that we can only see the world in two ways does not work for me. So, when I was walking through Quincy Market on that cold March day, I paused in front of the store with this shirt on display:

 

“technically, the glass is always full”

A simple message meant to get a laugh out of people, particularly, people, like me, who enjoy science humor, yet so profound.

But what does “technically, the glass is always full” really convey? We can look at the same glass and tell two very different stories. One person sees what is there. Another sees what is missing. But the shirt offers a third possibility: maybe the first two answers were not wrong, just incomplete. Maybe the question itself is too narrow.

We saw this idea on our own stage this fall in Radium Girls. The play reminded us what can happen when an accepted story goes unquestioned, when people are told there is only one way to understand what is happening, and when voices that challenge that story are too easily dismissed.

Marie Curie, whose work transformed our understanding of radioactivity, is often credited with saying, “Nothing in life is to be feared; it is only to be understood.” Understanding is not passive. It does not mean accepting the first answer we are given. It means looking more closely, asking better questions, and having the humility to ask, “What am I missing?”

Class of 2026, that is one of the habits I hope you carry with you from Brimmer: the ability to pause before settling too quickly into one answer, one interpretation, one story, or one side.

You have practiced this here in countless ways. Around seminar tables, you learned that your first idea may become stronger when someone challenges it. In science labs, you learned that data matters, but so does the way you interpret it. In English and history classes, you learned that texts, events, and people are rarely simple. In the arts, you learned that critique is not meant to diminish the work, but to help the artist see something they may have missed. And outside the classroom you’ve learned to listen to teammates, castmates, and those around you to consider their ideas and how to best work together.

That does not mean you should move through the world without conviction. Quite the opposite. Have strong beliefs. Stand up for what matters. Use your voice. Challenge ideas that need to be challenged. But also do not confuse certainty with wisdom. Do not mistake the loudest voice for the wisest one. And do not let yourself become so entrenched in being right that you miss the opportunity to understand.

As you leave Brimmer, you are entering a world that will try to pull you quickly into categories. Full or empty. Right or wrong. Us or them. Success or failure. But, you’ve learned better than that. You know that most of life is more complex, more nuanced, and more interesting than the first story we hear.

So when you encounter an idea that challenges you, look again. When you meet someone whose perspective differs from yours, listen longer. When you are certain you know the whole story, ask what else might be filling the glass.

Because the world does not simply need people who see what is missing or people who see what remains. It needs people who can see fully. People who can hold complexity. People who can disagree with humility, learn with curiosity, and lead with integrity.

As we come to the close of our program, Class of 2026, I have one final assignment for you. Please stand up and look around the tent. Look at your classmates, the people who have filled your days with conversation, laughter, challenge, and friendship. Look at your families and friends, who are here with pride on their faces. Look at your teachers, who have asked you to think more deeply.

Take a mental picture of this moment.

This, here, is a full glass. Full of memory. Full of gratitude. Full of people who helped shape you. Full of possibility for what comes next.

Class of 2026, may you move forward with confidence, but also with humility. May you speak clearly, but listen carefully. May you hold strong beliefs, but always be willing to look again. And when the world tries to convince you that the glass is only half full or half empty, I hope you remember: technically, the glass is always full.

Class of 2026…You are now officially 100% done. Congratulations.