The Commencement Speech I Can't Stop Thinking About
My sister sent me a video clip last week.
There stood Conan O'Brien in Harvard's Tercentenary Theatre—the historic yard where generations of students have gathered for commencement ceremonies—wearing full academic regalia and preparing to receive an honorary doctorate. He was also promoting the latest Toy Story movie.
The contrast made me smile.
A man best known for his wild hair, self-deprecating humor, and decades of making people laugh was now standing before thousands of graduates wearing doctoral robes and delivering a commencement address.
It also made me think about how little any of us know about where life will take us.
If you had asked the Harvard graduate of 1985 what his future held, I doubt "late-night television host," "Toy Story voice actor," and "honorary doctorate recipient" would have appeared on the list.
Which turned out to be one of the themes of his speech.
Most commencement addresses focus on hard work, determination, and following your dreams. Conan talked about those things too. But he spent surprising time discussing something we don't often acknowledge: luck.
The chance encounter.
The unexpected opportunity.
The person who crossed your path at exactly the right moment.
The teacher who saw something in you.
The colleague who opened a door.
The friend who made an introduction.
Hard work matters. Talent matters. Persistence matters.
But luck matters too.
And perhaps the greatest gift of acknowledging luck is that it keeps us humble.
One of the most memorable moments in the speech came when Conan reflected on all the people who helped him reach this point in his life. If he were to thank every one of them, he suggested, the theatre would not be large enough to hold them all.
I loved that image.
Graduation ceremonies often focus on parents and family members—and rightly so. But Conan's point was bigger than that.
None of us gets where we are alone.
Our lives are shaped by communities. Some people stay with us for years. Others appear for only a brief moment and leave an impact we never forget. Some relationships are carefully cultivated. Others seem almost accidental.
Yet all of them become part of our story.
Another observation from the speech stayed with me.
Conan joked that being a Harvard graduate wasn't always an advantage when he began his comedy career. In some situations, it actually worked against him. People made assumptions. They questioned whether he belonged.
Today, being a Harvard graduate is practically the last thing people know about him.
That struck me as a lesson worth considering.
We spend a lot of energy pursuing credentials, titles, promotions, awards, and recognition. There is nothing wrong with achievement. Accomplishments matter.
But over time, those accomplishments become only part of our story.
What remains are the relationships.
The people who taught us.
The people who encouraged us.
The people who challenged us.
The people we helped along the way.
For those of us who care about building stronger workplaces and stronger communities, there may be an even deeper lesson.
What if success isn't about being the star of the show?
What if it is about sharing the stage?
What if leadership means acknowledging those who paved the way for us while helping prepare those who will eventually take our place?
Every generation inherits something from the people who came before. Every generation leaves something behind for those who follow.
Perhaps that is the real work.
As I listened to Conan's speech, I found myself wondering whether one of the greatest gifts we can offer each other is relief from the pressure to constantly prove ourselves.
Maybe we don't have to be the hero of every story.
Maybe we can spend a little more time recognizing the people who helped us get here and creating opportunities for others to flourish.
Congratulations, Class of 2026.
May your accomplishments be meaningful.
May your communities be strong.
And may you never forget the many people—some planned, some unexpected, some simply lucky—who helped shape the journey ahead.
Warmly,
Mary