PENN STATE BERKS · CLASS OF 2026 We Are. Penn State.
I said yes before I finished reading the email. Some things you just don't overthink.
The ceremony was held at the Santander Center in Reading, Pennsylvania. From the moment I arrived — caps, gowns, the whole pageant — something shifted. Time folded back on itself. I wasn't just a guest speaker. I was twenty-two again, standing at the very edge of everything.
Because Penn State isn't just where I went to school. It's part of my origin story.
"We Are": The Moment
Here's a confession: I don't usually get nervous speaking in front of people. But when someone pulled me aside before the ceremony and said, "Oh, you'll be doing the 'We Are' call," I felt it. That little flutter. Actual nerves.
If you're a Penn Stater, you already know. Someone calls out "We Are!" and the crowd thunders back "Penn State!" It's a battle cry, a homecoming, a secret handshake shared among thousands.
Standing on that stage as the one calling it — not responding, but calling — three rounds, full crowd, the whole room erupting back at me — I was absolutely on top of the world.
We Are!
Penn State!
We Are!
Penn State!
We Are!
Penn State!
(And yes — "Thank you." "You're welcome.") 🎓
Blank Pages and New Beginnings
For my address, I didn't want to give the graduates a checklist for crushing LinkedIn. I wanted to give them something a little older, something that would endure changing times.
So, I turned to Sprout.
The Book of Sprout is a story about a boy named Woodsprout who receives a blank red leather book from his father when he comes of age. His father tells him: "We've given you the best beginning we could. Now it's up to you to fill the pages of your life."
I told the Class of 2026 they were exactly like Sprout in that moment. Diploma in hand. Book open. Pages blank. And here's something worth remembering: the chemical cocktail in your brain for fear and excitement is literally the same. The only difference is how you frame it. Use that emotion to run and embrace those blank pages with all you’ve got.
The part of the speech that I believe encapsulates it all:
You are the hero of your story.
Not someday. Not when you have it all figured out. Right now.
Because the truth is — we are all, in some way, winging it.
Being the hero doesn't mean having all the answers.
It means you're willing to take the next step —
even when you're unsure,
even when it's uncomfortable,
even when the path isn't clear.
Turn the page. Take the step.
And go write a story only you can tell.
Coming Full Circle
Sprout doesn't know what's going to happen when he walks out the door with his blank red book. Neither did I, on my own graduation day. Neither do these graduates. And that's not a problem to solve — it's the adventure to live.
Getting to stand on that stage, at my alma mater, holding a book that I helped bring back into the world, talking to hundreds of young men and women who are right at that
beautiful, terrifying, wonderful starting line. I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon.
To the Class of 2026 at Penn State Berks: it was an honor. Go fill those pages. Make them surprising. Make them yours.
The most authentic stories are the ones worth telling — and you are the only one who can write yours.
And whenever you need a reminder of where your story began — just call out "We Are."
You already know who'll answer.