Video summary
Elizabeth Mugo was elected by her graduating classmates in both the Masters of Public Policy and Masters of Public Affairs programs to deliver a commencement address that blends personal reflection with broader observations on resilience. Before arriving at Michigan from South Carolina, she worked extensively in public policy research focusing on child welfare and economic mobility, yet initially approached her decision to attend the Ford School with hesitation due to its distance from home. She admits that upon first visiting Ann Arbor for spring preview, she hoped to dislike the experience so that leaving would feel easier, but instead found an immediate sense of belonging among future classmates and professors, realizing quickly that this was where she needed to be despite her fears.
Her speech vividly captures the transformative journey shared by the cohort, moving from intense academic struggles like cramming for econ exams to joyful moments such as eating donuts at Dexter Cider Mill and celebrating after finals. Mugo highlights how the community has evolved through deep conversations ranging from debating pasta shapes to analyzing complex policy issues regarding PFAS and algal blooms, illustrating a unique bond that transcends typical social interactions. She acknowledges that while they have gained knowledge, confidence, and new friendships over these years, they also carry with them exhaustion born of hard work, yet she emphasizes that the collective laughter, support, and celebrations make the Ford School community her favorite aspect of the experience.
However, Mugo shifts the tone to address the stark reality facing graduates as they step into a world that looks entirely different from when they began their studies. She points out that many desired jobs no longer exist, government departments have been significantly reduced, and research fields once deemed vital are now defunded or considered irrelevant. Beyond professional setbacks, she speaks honestly about the profound personal losses suffered by loved ones, neighbors, and fellow students due to detention, deportation, war, and rising global tensions, noting that these hardships affect people regardless of political opinions. Rather than dampening the celebratory spirit of graduation, she uses this context to underscore how graduates have found ways to grieve, adapt, and continue their work despite an uncertain future shaped by systemic inequalities related to race, gender, finances, immigration status, and disability.
Concluding her remarks with a poem by Morgan Harper Nichols, Mugo offers wisdom that encourages the class to embrace uncertainty rather than trying to fix or solve every problem immediately. She suggests that peace can still be found even amidst changing circumstances, urging graduates to let each season of life unfold naturally without feeling pressured to control everything around them. This message serves as a reminder that their ability to take leaps of faith in the past has equipped them with resilience for what lies ahead, allowing them to grow and find stability within chaos. As she thanks everyone for making her time at Michigan an honor, she closes by expressing gratitude for knowing each graduate and reaffirming her pride in wearing blue as they move forward into their next chapters.
Read the full video transcript
[applause]
>> You rocked it.
Thank you so much, Bria. That was
wonderful.
So,
the graduating Masters of Public Policy
and Masters of Public Affairs classes
elected Elizabeth Mugo to speak on their
behalf.
>> [applause]
>> Elizabeth calls both
re- Ruweyu, and I've worked on this all
day.
Um Kenya and Irmo, South Carolina home.
She earned her Masters of Public Policy
from the Ford School and served as vice
chair of the Student Affairs Committee.
Before Michigan,
Elizabeth spent more than 4 years in
public policy research at Mathematica,
focusing on child welfare, economic
mobility, and education. Here at
Michigan, she completed her internship
as a policy and research fellow with the
Executive Office of the Governor of
Michigan. She plans to work in state or
local government, advancing economic
mobility through education access and
poverty alleviation.
And I have to add, Elizabeth has been an
elected student speaker before. She was
elected to speak for her undergraduate
college as well. So, it feels especially
fitting to have her with us in this role
today.
Many of you also know that you can
almost always find Elizabeth at the
community table in the Career Services
Office. Always a delightful presence.
Elizabeth, it is such an honor to
welcome you to the podium, and I invite
you to come forward.
>> [applause]
[applause]
>> Good afternoon, everyone.
As the last speaker before graduates
cross the stage, I'll try to keep my
remarks brief.
I want to start by thanking all the
family members, friends, loved ones, and
supporters here today in person, in
spirit, or online.
Including my cats, Tyson and Penny, who
I left this live stream on for.
I know each of us here today is where we
are because of our hard work and the
support of all of you. So, thank you.
Over the past few weeks, as I thought
about what I wanted to share today, I
drew a blank.
Fellow 40s, while we're all happy to be
done with tests, papers, and homework,
I'm sad that this chapter of our time
together is coming to an end.
So, I thought I'd take us back to the
beginning for a moment.
On February 6th, 1997,
I was born.
I'm just kidding. I'm just kidding. I'll
fast forward a little bit.
When I initially applied to graduate
school, I almost didn't apply to the
Ford School. Apart from a brief family
trip, I'd never spent a lot of time in
Michigan and never seen Ann Arbor.
And while the Ford School has and
continues to have a strong reputation as
one of the number one schools in social
policy and policy analysis,
Michigan felt far from my home in South
Carolina.
All I knew was that the University of
Michigan was a really big school in a
really cold place.
And at the time, the NCAA National
Champions in football. Now, the NCAA
National Champions in men's basketball.
Go Blue.
But after a lot of thought and a lot of
applications, I figured, what was one
more?
When it finally came down to make my
decision, I was down to two schools. A
program closer to my family and the Ford
School. A program that would place me at
the furthest I've ever lived from home.
As you can imagine, the prospect of
having me, their darling and hilarious
daughter, close to home
was a dream for my parents. So, when I
set foot in Ann Arbor for spring
preview, I wanted to hate it.
I thought hating it would make the
decision easier.
I wouldn't have to worry about making a
tough decision because the decision
would be made for me.
But I didn't hate it.
I loved it.
I spent that entire day trying to find
something not to like, but after meeting
my future classmates, future professors,
and feeling so at home, I knew in my gut
this is where I needed to be.
And even though I was scared, on that
day on April 12th, 2024, I made my
decision to come to the Ford School.
And I'm so grateful that I chose to take
that leap of faith because those past
few years with all of you have been
amazing.
Over these years, I've watched myself
and so many of you grow
from econ review sessions trying to cram
as much information as possible onto a
single sheet of paper
to donuts at the Dexter Cider Mill, down
indeed left and right.
From late-night study sessions for
program eval to Casa Doms immediately
after the final.
It's the laughter we've shared, the
support we've shown each other, and the
celebrations we've had that are the
reason why I always tell people that my
favorite thing about the Ford School is
the community. All of you.
There is probably no other group of
people I know who can move effortlessly
from debating best and worst pasta
shapes
to writing memos about PFAS and algal
blooms to analyzing the latest episode
of Real Housewives
and eulogizing the dual authentication
app. Rest in peace.
>> [snorts]
>> We are not the same people who walked
through the doors of Weill Hall that
first day. We are leaving with
knowledge, with confidence, with new
friendships,
and yes, with exhaustion, but hopefully
with joy, too.
At the same time, the field of public
policy and our country as a whole looks
entirely different than it did when we
applied for this program.
Jobs we had wanted or planned to return
to no longer exist.
Government departments we had dreamed of
working for were gutted nearly
overnight.
Research we had hoped to spend the next
stage of our lives doing was declared
irrelevant and defunded.
And the losses haven't only been
professional.
Loved ones, neighbors, and fellow U of M
classmates have been taken from their
homes and from our campus, detained or
deported.
Wars have been waged, global tensions
have risen,
innocent lives have been taken in our
very nation and abroad.
And I don't say this to bring down the
celebratory nature of this day, but to
be honest that regardless of anyone's
political opinions, these past couple of
years haven't been easy.
But we are here.
Not because the world got easier, but
because we found ways to grieve, to
adapt, and to do the work that brought
us here in different ways.
Now,
I'd hoped to offer you wisdom that would
inspire you all to take on the world.
That's why I always love commencement
speakers.
But the truth is, I feel scared and
uncertain of what's to come next,
just like I did that day in April for
both myself and for the world.
What I do know is living in uncertainty
has never been a distant possibility for
many people in this room, myself
included.
It's been a lifelong companion shaped by
race, gender, finances, immigration
status, disability, and so much more.
And yet, the same leap of faith that led
me to the Ford School, that brought so
many of us here not knowing what these 2
years would bring or what we'd find on
the other side of this program, has
something of us now.
And so, with that in mind, I'd like to
end with the last stanza of a poem by
American songwriter and poet Morgan
Harper Nichols.
These are words I've been holding on to
these past few weeks amid the
uncertainty of what's to come next after
today.
It goes,
Let July be July.
Let August be August. And let yourself
just be,
even in the uncertainty.
You don't have to fix everything. You
don't have to solve everything.
And you can still find peace and grow
in the wild of changing things.
Thank you all. It has been the pleasure
of my life to know you, and go blue.
>> [applause]