May 16, 2025
President Robert W. Iuliano
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
As Delivered.
Members of the Class of 2025, families, friends, and colleagues, it is my pleasure to welcome you to our Baccalaureate Ceremony. Today is an opportunity for you to pause and reflect, to catch your breath, and most of all, to savor this extraordinary milestone in your life.
You have worked extremely hard to get to where you’re at this afternoon. I’d invite you to take it all in. The pomp and circumstance. The music. The traditions. It’s a special day. You have earned every bit of it.
And as hard as it is to believe, Class of 2025, tomorrow morning we will gather for your graduation. Together, you will walk out of Penn Hall and into your future, bookending a walk that you took into Penn Hall on your very first day on campus, during your Opening Convocation.
And what a bright future it promises to be for you! Congratulations!
I’ve been a runner all of my adult life. For me, there is no more inspiring place to run than here in Gettysburg, especially in the early mornings when the mist hovers just above the monuments and witness trees.
Mind you, I rarely see students at that early hour, unless they’re coming home from something—but if you’ve ever run on the Battlefields before sunrise, you know exactly what I mean.
The ground is still. The air is crisp. And you can see just a few feet ahead of you. The rest—the cannons, the wooden fencing, the stone walls, even the path itself—is hidden from view.
Still, you press forward. Step by step. Into the mist.
In those early mornings, it’s not always clear where the path will turn next. Sometimes it’s a straight shot. Other times, the trail veers off unexpectedly. All you can do is trust your feet and your training to guide the way.
This feeling of moving forward—even when you can’t quite see where the road is taking you—is what I’d like to talk with you about today, on the eve of your graduation.
Because if there is one thing life asks of us, it is courage in the face of uncertainty.
Today, you stand at a new starting line. Maybe it’s graduate school or your first job. Perhaps it’s the Peace Corp or Teach for America. Maybe you don’t know what’s next for you and you’re still figuring it out. That’s okay!
No matter your plans, in this formative time in your life, I can imagine it feels as if your tomorrows are blanketed in that same thick haze. The future hidden from view.
In these defining moments, what gives us the courage to take that first step forward?
I’d encourage you to embrace three values that will guide you in times of uncertainty:
The first value is belief.
Belief in who you are and who you were created to be.
In times of doubt, turn to the people who believe in you.
Your parents and grandparents and friends here today, who run beside you and who are always there when you need them most.
Your devoted faculty—like Professor Joceyln Swigger and Professor Richard Russell—who saw something special in you and fanned the flame.
Your program directors—like Jill Titus and Ricardo Hernandez—who cultivated your talents and potential.
Or, your athletic coaches—like Coach Taylor Dyer and Coach B.J. Dunne—who challenged you to be your very best.
It’s the role models in our lives and their belief in us that inspires us to not only keep running, but to run toward something. To run with a sense of purpose.
The second value is determination.
Your will to keep going.
We rarely make progress by standing still. Sometimes it’s simply the act of pressing forward—slowly even painfully—that allows the fog to lift, shapes to emerge, and our life’s direction to become clearer.
You’ve built this grit over your four years here.
From late nights in Musselman Library when you pushed through to finish that 15-page paper, to how you put in the extra work to meet the high standards that Professor Michael Birkner expects of his students in his courses.
It is this drive to overcome that will serve you well in life’s marathon.
And the third and final value is hope.
Hope is what lets us see possibility in uncertainty.
It’s what lifts our eyes past the mist and dares us to imagine the good on the other side.
On the heels of the pandemic, you didn’t know quite what to expect by enrolling at Gettysburg. Your hope led you through the mist at that time in your life—and here you stand, now on the other side.
Hold on to that hope. It will fuel your success.
As Nelson Mandela reminds us, “Courage [is] not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it.”
Courage is the decision we make to keep running, to take action, even when the fear of a misstep or a stumble can feel overwhelming.
So, when you graduate from this great College tomorrow—this community that has shaped you—remember what the Battlefield at dawn has to teach us.
Clarity doesn’t come before action. It comes because of it.
And courage isn’t one single grand gesture—it’s the quiet commitment to take one step after another after another.
Even in the most uncertain times, there is meaning waiting to be revealed. If only we choose to press forward.
Once again, I am eagerly awaiting tomorrow, rain or shine, when you will cross that stage and we will shake hands. I will hand you your diploma—a symbol of how much you’ve grown, how much you’ve achieved, and just how far you’ve come.
Congratulations, Class of 2025.