Sunday, May 24, 2026
by Sharon Davidson Chang ’84, P’19, Chair of the Board of Trustees

Good morning, Thank you, President Bradley, Noah Baumbach (who is a fellow alum), distinguished members of the faculty, fellow trustees, parents, families, and friends—and on behalf of our Board of Trustees, enormous congratulations to you, Class of 2026! 

It is both humbling and a joy to share with you this morning. I’ve had the privilege of getting to know many of you. You are deeply passionate, intellectually curious, and wicked smart.

In my post-Vassar life, I’ve had many opportunities to engage with young people like you—mostly those in their 20s—whether one-on-one or before large audiences. One of the questions I’m asked most often is this:

“If you could speak to your younger self and change some things, what would you say?”

For years, I tried to come up with answers that sounded profound or polished. I’d say things like, “Follow your passion more.” Or “Don’t be afraid to fail.”  But those types of answers often felt trite and superficial, so over time my answers evolved and became much more grounded in my personal truth.

So this morning, I’d like to share three things I would now say to my younger self—and perhaps they may resonate with you as you step into this next chapter of your lives.

First: Spend less time being performative and more time simply being yourself.

I work in an industry that prizes coolness, smarmy-ness—where image often feels like currency—and I spent too much energy trying to fit into a prototype that was never really me. For several years, I showed up as who I thought people expected me to be rather than who I truly was.

The truth is, I was more of an Issa Rae-style awkward, quirky, effervescent Black girl trying to navigate spaces that didn’t always celebrate that kind of authenticity. I thought I needed to perform a version of myself that felt more acceptable.

But I eventually learned something important: People-pleasing is exhausting, and pretending is unsustainable.

So my first piece of advice is this: Embrace your awkwardness. Embrace your quirks. Be fully yourself. Don’t become a prototype of what your industry, your peers, or society expects you to be. The very things that make you different may ultimately become your superpower.

Second, I’d say, “Sharon, be careful of being ‘force-riped.’”

“Force-riped” is a phrase in Caribbean culture that refers to something being pushed to mature prematurely or artificially. When fruit is picked from its tree too early, it may look ready on the outside, but it’s still sour, not sweet, and needs time to ripen.

When I was younger, I wanted everything quickly. I wanted the promotion, the progress, the next opportunity. But sometimes what we actually need is time, maturity, and life experience so that when the big moment finally arrives, we’re truly prepared for it.

Sometimes the waiting season is where your character is built, where your resilience is strengthened, and where clarity begins to emerge. Some things simply need patience to ripen and align with God’s timing for your life.

Finally, I would say: “Sharon, widen your aperture.”

My friend Katie Couric recently said something in an interview with comedian Trevor Noah that deeply resonated with me. She gave me permission to share this.

She said: “I think we’ve become intellectually lazy, where we automatically go to our side of the argument. Our ability to look at something critically and dialectically, I think, has been lost.” 

That idea feels especially important right now.

Some of the greatest gifts Vassar has always offered—through your esteemed faculty, some of whom are seated behind me on this stage today, along with faculty who shaped my experience here in the early ’80s—are the tools to think critically and dialectically.

AI wasn’t a thing when I was your age. I was still using an electric typewriter when I wrote my thesis, and personal computers were still in their infancy. But the message is the same—and perhaps is more important now than ever: Don’t take everything at face value. Engage complexity. Resist retreating into algorithms, echo chambers, and ideological bubbles. Do the research. Stay curious, informed, and well rounded.

You have every right to disagree with opposing views—but do it with civility and a willingness to listen.

We live in a world increasingly designed to confirm what we already believe. But growth rarely happens there.

Growth happens in curiosity.

Growth happens in discomfort.

Growth happens when we remain open enough to listen, learn, and evolve.

So, as you step into this incredibly troubled, unpredictable—yet deeply exciting and adventurous—next season of your young Vassar alum lives, I encourage you to hold onto these three things:

• Be unapologetically yourself.
• Allow yourself time to ripen.
• And never stop expanding your perspectives.

Class of 2026, the world you are entering needs people who are thoughtful, compassionate, and curious, people willing to lead with both conviction and integrity. Our beloved Vassar has given you the tools to embody those qualities, and that gives all of us tremendous hope for a future that you will help shape.

Congratulations, Class of 2026!