By Deborah Yanez
To the extraordinary high school Class of 2025,
Words cannot fully express how proud I am of all that you’ve accomplished. You’ve worked relentlessly. You’ve pushed through setbacks, disappointments, and doubts. And tonight, we’re not just celebrating where you stand—we’re celebrating every single step you’ve taken to get here.
You’ve made your outcomes look easy, but we know better.
We know the late nights. The early mornings. The sacrifices. The tears. The unrelenting determination that powered your success. You turned effort into achievement and big dreams into real, tangible opportunities. And now, as you prepare to spread out across this country like the deep roots of a mighty oak tree, I want to leave you with a message not just of pride, but of preparation.
Because the reality is: you’re stepping onto college campuses at a moment of profound challenge.
You’re walking into a higher education system under attack. Pipeline and bridge programs that once offered a foothold for students from marginalized communities are being defunded. Affinity spaces are being questioned or dismantled. Diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts—hard-won and long overdue—are being rolled back across the country. We’re watching an open assault on higher education itself, from faculty being silenced to entire programs being gutted. This is the context you’re walking into.
And still, you walk in with power.
You are more than enough. You belong in every space you’re about to enter. No one handed this to you. You claimed it. You did the work. You made the sacrifices. Your talent and tenacity brought you here.
So when fear, self-doubt, or impostor syndrome tries to creep in—as it surely will—I want you to remember what you’ve already survived. You graduated from high school in the shadow of a pandemic. You began college in one of the most uncertain job markets in recent history. You’ve been forced to grow up fast, to think fast, to pivot faster. And while that may feel exhausting, it also means you are brilliantly resilient.
Lean on each other. The connections you’ve built so far aren’t just friendships—they’re lifelines. Keep them close. Check in. Be connectors not just for this next chapter, but for life. Support each other and remind each other of the truth: you didn’t get into college by luck or chance. You’ve earned it. You’ve proved it over and over again.
And when you enter spaces full of privilege—environments that may feel unfamiliar, even intimidating—I need you to remember this: you do not walk in alone.
Bring your full self, your story, your values, and your heritage. Be unapologetic about that. Your background and your journey are not liabilities. They are your assets. In fact, they are your superpower.
You stand on the shoulders of those who came before you. Your path may not have been paved with privilege, but it has been rich with love, sacrifice, and purpose. So every classroom, dorm, or office you enter, carry your community with you. Stand tall. Shoulders back. Head high.
And don’t lose sight of what truly matters: people over possessions. Character over comfort. Purpose over prestige.
And above all, never forget that education is liberation.
Be bold. Be brave. Be insane with courage.
Push yourself beyond what feels safe. Say yes to the unfamiliar, the uncertain, the uncomfortable. Who knows—you might even find yourself, like Lola, one of our TeenSHARP alumni who recently graduated from Pitzer College, on a surfboard in the middle of the Indian Ocean.
Take the risk. Make the leap. Learn from your mistakes. And always grow forward.
Our country—and our world—desperately needs your brilliance, your voice, and your vision. Especially now.
So to the Class of 2025: walk onto campus like you own it. Because you’ve already survived more than most. You’re not just ready—you’re necessary.
And we’re behind you every step of the way.