2025 Speeches and Media

Greetings Dr. Favazza, Abbot Isaac and Honorary Degree recipients. On behalf of my classmates, I would like to thank our Saint Anselm Abbey Monks, faculty, staff, coaches, family and friends who helped bring us to this day. And to my fellow members of the class of 2025, did you ever think this day would come? 

Looking back three years ago, we had just finished our freshman year here at Saint Anselm. For some of you, freshman year may seem like it was yesterday while others remember it only as a distant memory. But no matter how well you recall your conversations in the JOA common rooms or your shenanigans in Dominic Hall, I think it is safe to say that throughout these past four years we have all become new–and hopefully improved--versions of ourselves. 

This self-improvement project began with a year-long pilgrimage called Conversatio. You remember, that word our computers kept auto-correcting to conversation. And what a conversation it was! Conversatio, as you’ll recall, is one of the three solemn vows of a Benedictine monk meaning the way of life. As freshmen, you and I didn’t take any vows, but we did all complete a project in which we described our own Conversatio of a good life. When my turn came, I had identified my Conversatio as knowledge.

But what I discovered over the next three years as I learned more and more is that knowledge by itself does not lead to a good life. It’s just one of the things we gain in striving to live a good life. Life doesn’t afford many opportunities for re-do’s, so if you do not mind I would like to take my last few moments as a Saint Anselm College student to redeem myself by presenting my updated version of the Conversatio of a good life.

First of all, the good life must constantly be uncomfortable. We grow best when faced with new experiences and learning along the way. We might not always know where our finish line is or how we plan to reach it, but our ability to adapt in the face of unexpected challenges allows us to forge forward. The Conversatio of a good life requires the willingness to take the risk of losing one version of yourself for the purpose of growing into another. Ray Bradbury described this best when he said “jump off the cliff and build your wings on the way down.” We might not know what our future has in store or how exactly we will make it there, but the courage to take this risk is essential to the Conversatio to a good life.

All of us have taken risks in our lives. Some of those risks probably worked out better than others, but no matter the outcome, we learned from all of our successes and failures. If I’m honest, one of the biggest risks I have taken in my life was coming to this college. I vividly remember driving on to campus for the first time asking myself “What have I gotten myself into?”. I, like many of you, was comfortable at home. But, we all took the leap to uproot our lives and come to Saint Anslem College. We learned to live with strangers, joined sports teams without knowing a single teammate, took the chance to join clubs we were interested in, and became members of a spiritual community that before we couldn’t have imagined.

We came to campus and were told we were Anselmians. But what is an Anselmian? To understand what this means, to truly become an Anselmian took the courage to embrace this new identity. Buying into this new way of life may have been immediate for some and gradual for others. But pretty soon we were the orientees who became the orientation leaders, the transition mentees who became the multicultural center mentors, the first-years who became team captain, the CELs who became Meelia site coordinators, and faith seekers who became peer ministers. We learned by example to lead by example. And it is through our courage to grow at Saint Anselm College that we all evolved into new versions of ourselves. The Anselmian version!

We all had somehow found the courage to pursue a liberal arts degree even as the wider world expressed its doubts about our pursuit. Biology majors have discussed the artistic styles of paintings. History majors have explained cellular respiration, and business majors have had debates surrounding the categorical imperative. We have passed classes that may not have been our strongest subject, or even a topic that interested us. But it’s these classes that have made us thrive outside of our comfort zones, that have broadened our understanding of ourselves, our world, and what makes life good. Members of the class of 2025, look to your classmates beside you. Feel the weight of your graduation cap on your head. Recognize and remember how you feel in this moment. The pride you take in earning your degree, the built-up exhaustion from studying over these past years, the sadness of an era coming to an end, and the joy of a new chapter beginning. The reward of having taken the risks, the surprise at how well you and others have built your wings on the way down. The gratitude for being able to take flight.

Where that flight takes us, who knows? 400 different places! Like this beloved statue of Saint Anselm behind me. We are looking forward to the start of a journey. The paths we follow in life will change us, and that is okay. Four years from now we will be ready to offer yet another version of our Conversatio of the good life. And if we have the courage to embrace change, we will be revising it again and again and again. 

So there it is. My re-do.

But, I guess the important thing isn’t whether we present about the good life, but that we live one. So, classmates: no matter how far away you travel from this quaint Benedictine college, bring your good life, your Anselmian values, with you. Involve yourself in your new communities. Radiate kindness. Show up for others. Hold the door for the person behind you. And Hawks keep building your wings! Congratulations!

Each year the Saint Anselm College Chapter of the American Association of University Professors presents the Distinguished Faculty Award. The award reads: "For excellence in teaching and scholarship, contributions to the academic community through active and positive relations with colleagues and students, and an involved concern for humanity." 

When the committee reviews the nominations for this award, we are sometimes surprised to see that someone clearly deserving of the award has yet to receive it. This year’s recipient is one such case. They have collaborated to create a more inclusive campus and to highlight marginalized voices and perspectives. This persons’ colleagues, students, and family all spoke glowingly about their mentorship and their devotion to using their knowledge to help others to fully develop themselves and their interests. As one colleague notes: This person “influenced my ideas and actions almost every day. From them I learned to study and write about things I truly love and that I want to teach to students.”

This year’s recipient is well published, including multiple books. They are acknowledged as a campus leader by their peers, having been elected as a Faculty Senator for multiple terms and having served as a Department Chair. But what stands out the most when you talk to students, alumni, and faculty about this person is that they are an amazing educator. As one student puts it: “They wants every student to succeed and grow, and they will push their students to make sure that happens.”

This year’s recipient grew up in Indianapolis, before moving to New York. There, she put herself through her PhD at Columbia University working as a server in a pub, ultimately specializing in 20^th-Century British Literature. She taught at Golden Gate University and the University of San Francisco before joining the Saint Anselm faculty in 1994. Not content with just writing about Americana musicians in her recent volume on Townes Van Zandt, she also performs across the state in multiple bands with her husband. 

I reached out to one of the recipient’s daughters for a quote to include today. I received a 1,200-word speech in return that was so full of love and admiration for the recipient that I had to print it out to include with the award that I am about to hand to her. It was difficult to select a single quote, but I think this one summarizes the feelings of award winner’s colleagues and students: “I hope she realizes that she's given me the most important things a parent, or a teacher, can give: a rich internal life, healthy esteem for my own intelligence and creativity, and my own place in relation to the great works of human imagination.”

I’ll end by again stealing a quote from her daughter: “You deserve all the accolades coming your way, and I can't wait for you to have a retirement where you get to live your values, take some time to relax, and become a frequenter of every coffee shop in New Hampshire.”

It is my honor to award the 2025 American Association of University Professors Distinguished Faculty Award to Professor of English, Dr. Ann Holbrook. 

Let me start by with a word of thanks to our speaker Lindsey Dunn for her inspiring words. I also want to extend a special thanks to Joe Parody-Brown, Chair of our Alumni Council, for being here today to welcome you, our graduates, into the family of Saint Anselm College alumni all over the world. 

And I want to thank our graduates from the Class of 2025. This year’s Senior Class Gift campaign was nothing short of extraordinary—and it wouldn’t have been possible without the passionate leadership of our tri-chairs: Massimo DiMatteo, Olivia Korb, and Caroline Larson. The senior class came together to exceed our participation goal, raising more than $4,400. Your generosity will support current and future Anselmians for years to come. What a powerful way to say thank you—and to leave your mark. As you take your next steps beyond the Hilltop, we hope you’ll continue to return, stay connected, and give back each year as proud Anselmian alumni.

Like many of you, I was astounded at the election of Robert Francis Prevost as Pope taking the name Leo XIV. While an American, it is more truthful to say that he is from the America’s, since he also holds Peruvian citizenship (cheers to you, Carlos!) In world and a church divided politically, religiously, culturally, and in a million other ways, Pope Leo has his work cut out for him. (See, there are jobs tougher than being a college president!). It is unreasonable to think that he can bridge all that divides us, but he can, following the example of Pope Francis, model an approach focused on dialogue as a path to overcome disunity, disharmony and dis-information. To me, genuine dialogue can only begin if we cultivate a practice characterized by one word and it is a word that isn’t spoken much in common parlance. The word: forbearance. Say it with me: forbearance. One more time: forbearance. I want to spend a few minutes meditating with you this morning about its meaning. And I choose to do with you, graduates, because as you commence from this Hilltop, I want to remind you that knowing and learning stuff is simply not enough. To live authentically in relationship with others, you must understand how you know and how others know and allow that understanding to create some space for empathy especially for those who claim truths quite different from you own. 

To understand forbearance, you must first understand relativity. Not Einstein’s theory (though no doubt some of our physics majors could help us out with that) but another kind of relativity. It is an indisputable fact that when we see things in the world, we are seeing things from a particular place and with a particular lens. We make judgments based on the conclusions we make about what we perceive. So, for example, if we are approached by an unhoused person on the streets of downtown Manchester asking for money, we make a judgment. We judge the person to genuinely need assistance and we help them either with money, or buying them a meal, or bringing them to others who can provide assistance. Or we judge that the person needs assistance and we don’t have the means to assist so we walk on. Or we judge that the person’s request is not genuine and they are only looking to score some alcohol, drugs or something else that is not essential to live. The point here is that we all make a judgment AND, and this is critical, we don’t all make the same judgment. We make these judgments relative to the lens we view the world. This is what I mean by relativity. 

What I don’t mean by relativity is that all truth is relative. No, I absolutely believe in one unifying truth, a spiritual and a divine truth that transcends each of us. Relativity reminds us that because we always perceive the world from a particular place with a particular lens, we never will grasp truth in its entirety. We all see some of it but not all of it. 

And this is how my meandering reflection gets us back to, you guessed it, forbearance. If any of you have actually heard this word before, it might have been to describe a loan such as your student loan. Loans can be put into forbearance which literally means that while the bank or the government has a legal right to the money that is owed to them, they can decide to pause repayment of a loan due to some unforeseen event. So, for example, student loans were put into forbearance during COVID. 

But I want us to expand our understanding of forbearance. Literally, the word means to bear or to carry something forward. It also connotes patience and restraint. If we live a world that is divided and if we recognize that all that we perceive about that world is relative to a particular place with a particular lens, the first step towards dialogue and the rebuilding of a divided world is to practice forbearance. What this means is that rather than immediately calling someone stupid, or uninformed, or immature because they disagree with you, pause for a moment and think about the fact that they are looking at this issue from a particular place with a particular lens just like you and that neither of you possess the entire truth. If we can just pause to realize this, we are practicing forbearance. And in practicing forbearance, we are creating a small space, perhaps just a crease or a crack, for empathy. To be clear, practicing forbearance will not create agreement with others with whom you disagree. It will, however, create a pause in your disagreement, a pause to help you see with the eyes of another and set the groundwork for genuine dialogue and understanding. 

And so I come full circle to make the same point I made earlier, graduates. As you commence from this Hilltop, knowing and learning stuff is simply not enough. To live authentically in relationship with others, to overcome division and create common cause, you must understand how you know and how others know (relativity) and let that understanding pause your judgment to create some space for empathy especially for those whose truths are quite different from your own (forbearance). If you can do this, success will find you and you will leave the world, just as you leave this Hilltop today, better than how you found it. 

Congratulations, Class of 2025. Go make the world better. And take Carlos’ words to heart: don’t forget to read!

President Favazza, esteemed members of the board of trustees, Abbott Isaac and members of the monastic community, honored graduates, and relieved parents – thank you for inviting me here this morning.

Today, I want to talk about reading because, to be honest, it’s the only thing I really know how to do. I took a vocational aptitude test in high school, and my mechanical skills were so bad that that score didn’t even register on the chart – it was just a flat line.

But I was good at reading and writing. And in my jobs as a columnist, I spend most of my day reading, and the rest of the day writing about what I’ve read. And, if I believe what I read, I’d have to conclude that no one is doing much reading anymore.

According to the National Endowment for the Arts, in 2022 fewer than half of American adults read even one book – of any kind. And a Department of Labor study found that Americans ages 15 or older spend only 15 or 16 minutes a day reading anything at all for personal interest. That is barely 1 percent of each day.

We’ve heard the explanations. We’re too busy, too distracted, or too stressed, too attached to our devices, too hooked on YouTube or TikTok to read anymore. 

But I wonder if part of the issue is that we don’t know how best to read. I read every day, and I know you’ve read a lot during your years here, holed up over in the [Guy-Sell] Library. But, just maybe, we’re doing it wrong. 

There are articles, videos and books out there on how to read like a professor, like a lawyer, like a CEO, even how to read like a genius. 

But I want to suggest another way of reading – a better one, I think – and that is, how to read like a human being. We’re not all going to be CEOs or professors (at least I really hope not). But we are all human. So… How should a human read?

First, treat your books like your friends.

You may have a best friend, or several close friends. Some you see all the time, others you see rarely but when you reconnect it’s like no time has passed. Trust me, that’s how it’ll be with the friends you’ve made here at the Hilltop. 

Books are like that, too. 

Sometimes it feels great to hang out with a single book. But you can also spend time with several at once. I usually have 3-4 going at the same time. That way, no matter your mood, no matter the ups and downs of your life, at least one of your books, like one of your friends, will be there for you when you need it.

I have books that have been lifelong friends. I met Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh when I was in elementary school – and trust me, we still hang out. 

And just like it’s fun when you bring together friends from different circles and suddenly they just click, it’s wonderful when different books you’ve read in different moments of your life start connecting. The more you read, the more your books will speak to each other. It’s like your brain is throwing a party, and everything you’ve ever read is invited. 

Second, don’t look for yourself in books. 

Humans are curious. We’re explorers and travelers; we like to encounter new cultures and food and people. Difference is appealing; sameness can get boring. 

Books are like that, too. Opening a new book is like visiting a foreign country.

Some people say that we should read books we can personally relate to – and that schools should assign books in which students can see their lives reflected. 

I get the logic, but I’m not sure that I agree. Imagine if all your friends were just like you; that would get dull quick. I don’t always want to see my story reflected in what I read. I’d rather delve into worlds that are entirely different from mine – and then feel that shock of recognition when I find slivers of myself in distant lands. 

Harriet M. Welch was a wealthy kid with a live-in nanny who attended a snooty private school on the East side of Manhattan. On the surface, she and I had very little in common. But when Harriet’s middle-school classmates found her private diary and read the stuff she was writing about them – sometimes nasty stuff, but always honest – she became afraid.

I know that fear. You know that fear. It’s the fear that asks: What will they think of me once they know who I really am? 

When we can feel our own fears – and our joys – in the lives of others who seem unlike us, we are touching something universal. We are reading like humans. 

Third, you should fight over books. Even better, fight with books.

Humans are contentious. We compete and we argue. So, be open to books that fight with you, that challenge what you think you know about the world and about yourself. A friend of mine goes so far as to say that we should read books we hate – meaning authors we don’t like, topics or genres we’d rather avoid. 

She says that reading what you hate helps you refine what it is that you value. Don’t just toss a book aside if it contradicts your instincts. Keep reading and ask yourself – what about this book bothers me – and why? 

Wrestle with those demons! You might pin them down, or you might discover that they’re actually angels. Reading is how you’ll come to understand what you believe and why you believe it, whether the person you think you are is, in fact, who you really are, or who you want to be.

That’s why banning books is so insidious. It doesn’t protect our minds; it flattens them. It feeds our certainties and starves our imaginations. The more you banish ideas you don’t like, the more you’ll start to reject any new ideas at all. After all, with that mindset, books you disagree with are dangerous; and books you do agree with are redundant. So why learn anything new at all? 

Harriet’s beloved nanny, Ole Golly, tells her that “life is a struggle, and a good spy gets in there and fights.” The more you fight with books early in life, the more your books will be there for you later on, fighting on your side. 

Fourth, don’t just read books. Re-read them. 

Humans like to make and preserve memories. We take photos. We write in diaries. We keep records of everything. Our books are a form of personal record-keeping. I love re-reading books that I read long ago. Especially if I have the original copy – I can see the passages I underlined, the notes I made in the margins. And I wonder, why did those ideas strike me so much back then? Maybe something else seems important to me now in those same pages. 

Books are a record of our own minds – not just for the author but for the reader, too.

You know those school reading challenges you had as kids, where if you read like 5 or 10 books during the summer you got a prize? I’m not a fan. I think reading a single book 5 times, over the years, can be just as exciting. Get to know one book really well, and you’ll know yourself better, too.

The first few times I read Harriet the Spy, as a kid, I was fixated on the title character. I even decided that if I ever had a daughter, I’d name her Harriet. (I do have a daughter now, and I also have a wife who vetoed my plan.) But as I got older and read the book again, this time with my children, I found myself understanding Harriet’s parents so much more. I used to think they were just goofy and distant, but they became much more vital to the story. The book hadn’t changed; it showed me how I had changed. 

Fifth and finally, be a messy reader.

Humans are messy. I’m sure everyone here has had at least one messy roommate. (If you don’t think you had a messy roommate, then, I hate to tell you – you were the messy roommate.) 

That’s okay. Your reading life should be gloriously messy.

That means reading all sorts of books in all sorts of ways. Read nonfiction to learn facts; read fiction to learn truth. Read classic works and read random ones. (Sometimes the random ones become classics to you.) Read books that seem silly and books that seem serious; over time, the books in those categories might flip.

Read in whatever format you like – hardcovers, paperbacks, audio books – but remember that the best reading is the kind you do when it’s the only thing you’re doing.

Read alone or read in community. But if you join a book club don’t be the person who doesn’t finish the book but pontificates about it anyway – trust me, everyone can tell. As you get older, read with your children, for as long as they can stand it, which is longer than you might think.

Before I came here today, I asked some smart people I know about their reading habits. And several said that if a new book doesn’t excite you in the first chapter or so, you should stop reading it. Life’s too short, they say, to read a book that doesn’t grab you. 

With all due respect to those smart people, they’re idiots. Life is too short to not read those books. You all know someone who, when you first met, you found kind off-putting– but eventually became quite dear to you. 

Books can be like that. And that’s because your ideas, your views, your taste – they’re not as set as you think they are. They’re still messy. Don’t read to affirm who you are; read to discover who you are, as a person, as a friend, as a citizen. 

One of my favorite moments in “Harriet the Spy” is when Harriet is rehearsing for the sixth-grade school pageant. All the kids are assigned parts of a Thanksgiving dinner, and Harriet is assigned the role of an onion. At first she hates it. But, to her credit, she gives it a shot.

“Harriet tried to feel like an onion. She found herself screwing her arms up tight, wrapping her arms around her body, then buckling her knees and rolling to the ground. . . Harriet rolled round and round the room. It wasn’t bad at all, this being an onion.” 

Then Harriet asks herself: I wonder what it would be like to be a table or a chair or a bathtub or another person.   

If your reading leads you to ask, “I wonder what it would be like,” then you’re doing it right. You’re reading like a human. I wonder what it would be like if we spent two percent of our days reading for fun instead of one percent – 30 minutes instead of 15. It could be nothing. Or it could be revolutionary. 

So, treat your books like your friends. Bond with them and fight with them. Look for difference, not sameness. Make memories out of your books, visit with them again and again and again.

After today, you’ll always be a Hawk. But a life of reading will make you fully human, too. If you’re lucky, it might even make you an onion.

Thank you so very much – and congratulations to the class of 2025.

It is finally here. What looked like a forever away in August of 2021 is now here: Commencement Weekend. And here you are; you made it!

Here you are, surrounded by family and friends who have come from near and far. They are beaming and smiling with happiness and delight. They are so proud of you and so pleased with what you have accomplished. So, believe me when I say: this is a great time to ask for money!

It is also a great time for you to express your thanks and appreciation to all those who have supported and encouraged you; to all those who have taught and challenged and tested you; and to all those who dared you to strive for what at times seemed to you to be too hard, too difficult, too outside your abilities to achieve. But here you are, in part because of your hard work and effort, and in part because of them. So, thank them.

It is also a great time to pray for yourselves and your classmates and to ask for prayers from those who stand around you today,that you might always make good choices in your life, choices that will enable you to be true to what you believe, to be courageous in following the right path, to be good and faithful friends and to be honest in your dealings with others. Remember this simple teaching from the prophet Micah: “You have been told what the Lord requires of you. Only this: to love what is good, to do what is right, and to walk humbly with your God.”

You probably have been asked before and may be asked in the future: why did you choose to attend Saint Anselm College? I am sure you all have a number of reasons for that choice. But a question of more importance to me than why you chose to attend Saint Anselm College is why did you choose to stay at Saint Anselm College. Part of an answer to that question, perhaps, is that you felt you belonged here, that it was the right place for you to be, that this place had something to do with the way you wanted to move forward in your life, however indefinite or unclear that way forward was to you at times.

A way forward. From Saint John’s account of the Last Supper, we heard Jesus tell his disciples, “Where I am going you know the way.” Thomas immediately raised a reasonable objection: “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” What, he was asking, was the way forward for the disciples whom Jesus seemed to be abandoning?

Jesus’ answer is well known to us: “I am the way, the truth and the life.” I am the way. Do you want to know the way to where I am going? Then live in the way I have shown you: be compassionate, be merciful, be forgiving, be generous, be thankful, be willing to sacrifice yourself for the sake of the good of others, be prayerful, give praise to God for his many gifts and blessings. This was the way forward for the disciples at the Last Supper. It is the way forward for all who are called to be Christ’s disciples. It is the way forward for you and for me.

There are times when that way forward for us will not be completely clear, when we will realize that to be truly fulfilled we will have to make some mid-course corrections, however difficult they may be. Saint Paul could certainly talk to you about that. He began as a zealous persecutor of the Christian faith, but made an astounding, indeed miraculous about-face, to become, as we heard in the first reading this afternoon, a staunch and intrepid defender of the Christian faith. He came to realize what it really means to be a child begotten by God. We must not shirk from making such corrections when they become clear to us. While your way forward will be your way, make it a way that reflects deeply and truly the way of Jesus.

Well, here you are, at your Baccalaureate Mass on the eve of your Commencement. Where you will be in coming years is something time will tell. May your way forward bring you a life well-lived, a life of good choices, a life filled with the love and grace that come from Jesus Christ.

At this moment, though, here you are. So here, in this special time and in this special place, may God bless you and all your loved ones, here and everywhere and always.