ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú

Speech by ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú President Denise A. Battles

All good stories offer some background, so let me start in Oswego County, NY. There I grew up in an agricultural community, where few of my classmates even considered or could afford college. Fully half of my father’s formal education took place in a one-room schoolhouse, down the road from the family farm, leading to a high school diploma and a job working at the local iron works. Dad is one of those people who is good with his hands and seemingly can fix or do anything. Importantly, his early jobs allowed him to develop his natural artistic talents to become a graphic illustrator. My mother’s roots were similarly humble. She and my father married soon after she earned her high school diploma and went to work as a secretary. A few years later, with baby Denise on the way, they creatively procured my first home by offering to buy a little farmhouse that was slated for demolition on the site of the forthcoming Nine Mile Point Nuclear Station and moving it to my grandparents’ nearby strawberry farm fields. They paid $105 for the house and $2,000 for its relocation.

My parents raised me and my three brothers to respect family, work hard, and serve the local community. They were deeply involved in supporting our village library, including its major expansion and renovation. I remember the evenings they spent at our kitchen table, reviewing construction plans and pursuing grant funding, vivid memories that may have foreshadowed my passion for our Milne Library’s renovation. Once we kids were old enough, my mother entered college, attending night school to earn her associate’s degree in library science, and to my chagrin, went to work in my high school library. Although I assiduously avoided her in the school’s halls, I admired her courage in pursuing higher education as an adult and mother. 

So, like many of you, I was the first of my family to earn a four-year degree. My parents’ role modeling prompted me to prioritize education to maximize my options in life. I devoured books and studied, eventually graduating at the top of my class. I found my way to Colgate University, which offered a financial aid package that was just enough for me to attend. Wandering the shores of Lake Ontario as a child, I had a fascination with the rocks that composed the shoreline, wondering where they came from. That interest turned into a major in geology. As a student at a pricey private university, I was dependent on loans, work-study, summer jobs, and scholarships. Even though I graduated in three years as a cost-saving strategy, I amassed debt that would take 14 years to pay off. Next came a cross-country trek to UCLA for the PhD that would enable a career as a college professor and then administrator. Thus began my passion for high-quality, affordable, public higher education. Over the years, I worked in a series of public universities and advanced through the academic and leadership ranks, until an exceptional once-in-a-lifetime opportunity presented itself: to return to my New York roots and serve as leader of this amazing college.

As I finish my tenth year of service as president, I feel I, too, am graduating from ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú. Like you in the Class of 2025, I have taken on a course of study, been tested, worked with world-class faculty and staff, and made lifelong friends. I majored in ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú, the College, the village, the alumni, the faculty and staff, and most of all, you— our incredible students—the reason we are all here. I have learned much in the past decade, about the college’s past and future, those who built this renowned institution and will shape what it will become, and about myself. But I have learned the most from you, our students, about what is most important and why this public honors college must continue to thrive and fulfill its mission to educate the next generation of leaders who will shape our nation and the world. I have dedicated myself to that goal and will continue to advocate for ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú and public higher education in the next chapters of my life. 

Commencement gives us all a chance to pause and consider what has been but also will be in our lives and where we will put our energies. Careers, yes. Families and friends, surely. But we all owe a debt to this place, this college, and to those who helped us reach this point. The diplomas you receive are emblematic of your accomplishments, the toil and victories, but they carry with them a solemn responsibility to pay back all who made this day possible. You’ll do so by taking your place as contributing citizens in your communities, making them better places, and ensuring that public education survives into the future. But that debt also extends to ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú itself, as the College will need you in the future to contribute your time, talent, and yes, even treasure, to keep it thriving.

So, I charge you, our graduates, to take up this cause to foster and champion our beloved college and public higher education more broadly. Extol their virtues and advance the case for support with others, including elected officials. Advocate for ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú by recruiting prospective students. Tell them about the affordable, accessible, and excellent public liberal arts college perched over the Genesee River; urge them to seek out the wonders you have found here. You are the best of what the College is and our most effective advertisement. You are what we work so tirelessly to nurture—the lucky few who today join the long line of exceptional ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú alumni out there making a difference. The diploma you receive is more than an acknowledgement of your accomplishments and intelligence. It is a reminder of where you have come from and your passport to what lies ahead. It also signifies that you are now and forever ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú. 

I’ve said it before: ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú sticks. As graduates, it is part of who you are. It’s in your DNA, which has been passed down through generations of graduates since the first commencement ceremony in 1872. As you leave this place, you’ll carry with you the sunsets, the valley, and many memories. Throughout your life, you will look back with fondness to your time on campus—the friendships, the struggles, and the triumphs—and tell stories to family and friends about what you did, saw, and experienced here. You’ll ache for those who will never quite understand what it is like to hurry to class across Sturges Quad or cheer the Ice Knights on a Saturday evening. You are ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú now and forever, equipped to take on all that life will throw at you and prevail, to lead and serve your future communities, your nation, and the world.

ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú is also part of me; deep in my bones, I feel its power. In the years to come, I will think of the first buds appearing on the trees on the College Green, marking the arrival of spring in the Genesee Valley, and remember the excitement of that first day of classes. Do you remember how you felt that day? Nervous, excited, perhaps a bit intimidated and apprehensive about that first class, exam, semester? I, too, was somewhat daunted, awed by the responsibilities entrusted to me to lead this renowned institution, and proud that I had been chosen to join such distinguished faculty and staff and oh-so-talented students. 

We have traveled a similar path, you and I, undertaken a profound educational journey that has led to this moment. We have done much in the past four years: fought our way out of a pandemic, revitalized the campus’s infrastructure, reopened Milne Library, and earned ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú the moniker of Honors College. Perhaps no class has experienced the amount of construction you have. While I hope you viewed it as positive transformation, akin to that which you have personally experienced at the College, I’m eternally grateful for your understanding and patience. Maybe we should be awarding you honorary hard hats along with your diplomas. 

I envy the adventures that await you, the Class of 2025, as you spread out across this state and nation to shake up the world. We need problem solvers, daring leaders who will step forward to make real changes to improve all our lives—in business, education, the arts and sciences. You are graduates of New York’s Public Honors College and have much to do in the coming months, years, and decades.

Let me end here with a note of thanks. For the past four years, we have lived together here in the village, strolled the campus, and sat together to watch dusk paint the sky red over the valley. The demands of being a modern college president are significant and continual, leading to an average tenure of five or so years. I have served 10 and been grateful every day for the honor of doing so. The secret to my longevity lies with you, the students. Your enthusiasm and energy always reinvigorate me when I wander campus between classes or stop by MJ to check in and remind myself of why I do what I do. I can little imagine how much I will miss this village, this college and community, and most of all, you—the students. You are the heart of ºÃÉ«ÏÈÉú. I am so proud of every one of you and cannot wait to hear about what you will do next.