Welcome, faculty, families, and friends. I am so delighted to welcome you to celebrate the graduating students from the class of 2026!

In a few minutes, this class will join the more than 335,000 alumni of this university — as innovators, community leaders, and visionaries building a better tomorrow. 

You’re about to show the world what this generation of Aggies can do.

Commencement is a tough gig. Thousands of people want you to land just the right note.

So, like any Aggie would, I did my research.

What I found is that everyone is talking about optimizing themselves. In video after video, influencers are looksmaxxing, auramaxxing, and even something called rotmaxxing.

Those of us in the know realize this trend is yet another UC Davis innovation. Peer-reviewed studies indicate that Cheeto has been chonkmaxxing since at least 2011.

If you’re my age, don’t worry. The rest of the speech will make sense.

As we gather, some of you already have the job of your dreams lined up. Some are headed to graduate school. And some are still figuring out your next step.

And that is absolutely okay. No matter what anyone tells you, most of us aren’t sure most of the time.

Everyone here today is filled with pride for what you have achieved and hope for what you’ll become. But this spring, something else hangs in the air, too ...

Worry.

A recent survey found that 70 percent of college students are anxious about their futures. That worry — about the job market, about whether the world still needs what you spent years learning — feels new.

I want to assure you today that it is not.

Exactly 100 years ago, in 1926, a small group of students graduated with the first four-year degrees from this campus, which would later be called UC Davis.

You might guess that you share very little in common with them.

You would be wrong. They were worried, too.

New technology was changing the economy faster than people could understand.

An economist back then said they “were witnessing the birth of a world where the cleverness of the engineer is making the skill of the craftsman obsolete.”

Even our 1926 yearbook featured an ad for a milking machine that promised to cut labor — and with it, demand for the very farmers this campus was training.

Those Aggies wondered whether there was a place for them. But they didn’t just endure. They held on to hope, and they thrived.

Flash forward 50 years. The same question came back, sharper. The computer age threatened more careers, with automation reaching every industry.

In that era of uncertainty, one of the greatest thinkers of the 1970s stepped forward with an answer.

Stevie Wonder.

I know — that reference might land harder for the parents than for the graduates.

You may know he's my favorite musical artist — and a genius. Stevie partnered with audio engineers to make synthesizers capable of producing his unique sound.

He didn't see a machine that could replace musicians. He saw a way to get the music out of his head.

As he put it, "It's just a bunch of wires and knobs. You have to put your own life into it."

In 1976, Stevie recorded my favorite song, “As.” In the song, he promises to love “until the day that eight times eight times eight is four.”

I know. That sounds like something ChatGPT would hallucinate.

But it is a profoundly human truth. Sometimes we know things with more than mathematical certainty.

We know in our soul. And that is the part of us that AI cannot touch.

And today, in an age of endless optimization for the algorithm, another philosopher is making the point that we must not lose faith in ourselves ...

Bad Bunny.

Critics said he could never succeed without performing in English, but Bad Bunny chose his irreplaceable humanity. He chose to perform in Spanish. He chose Puerto Rico and won the world over.

When he sang at the Super Bowl, he answered the doubters, saying, "I never ever stopped believing in myself.”

To the class of 2026, I want to echo his words: “You should believe in yourself, too. You are worth more than you think. Believe me.”

After countless hours studying over matcha, working in research labs, and building experience at internships, you are ready for your moment.

Believe me.

Finally, let me leave you with one word that links that first class of graduates, the musicians who inspire us, and what lies ahead of you ...

Hope.

Choose hope. Choose to believe in your community. Your preparation. Your irreplaceable identity.

You've spent years at UC Davis optimizing. You’ve been Busmaxxing, Quadmaxxing, and Picnicmaxxing.

I'm asking for one more: Hopemaxxing. 

All in. No moderation.

Because something is as true today as it was in 1926: Creators create, innovators innovate, and Aggies — no matter the era — choose hope.

You are ready. You are resilient. And you are Aggies.

Congratulations, Class of 2026!