We Belong

Sam Levitan ’24, a biology and biotechnology major, gave the following student address at the undergraduate commencement ceremony on May 10 at the DCU Center.

On a cool October evening in 1901, history was quietly made around a dining room table as Booker T. Washington sat with Theodore Roosevelt, becoming one of the first Black guests to dine privately at the White House with a president. The meeting sparked outrage, with headlines essentially reading that this man, a man born into slavery 45 years prior, a man whose ancestors had built the very halls in which he dined and served their inhabitants, did not belong—not in that building, at that table, or with that host.

President Wang, members of the Board of Trustees, esteemed faculty, staff, students past and present, loved ones, and the triumphant Class of 2024, it is my honor to be here today. And it is my privilege to ask you to reflect on this word: belong. Ponder for a moment, what does it mean to belong or to feel a sense of belonging?

I think at least part of that question can be answered by the rest of Booker T. Washington’s story. See, that epic did not end with the outrage of his existence but rather with the prosperity of his work. Washington, in the face of hate, stood with the power of knowledge and made a hostile environment one in which people could begin to belong.

Fourteen years after that dinner, he visited our forebears here at WPI. No one was better suited to speak at the ceremony than Washington, a titan of transformative education and the embodiment of WPI’s theory and practice, with his emphasis on the combination of classroom studies and vocational training. At WPI’s 50th Commencement, in 1915, Washington spoke on America’s transformation since the ending of slavery. And, while at that point in history America had made great strides toward equity and justice, I’m sure it was lost on no one that there was plenty of work left to do.

We’re here today on the precipice of life, eager to move on and enter the “real world.” Nonetheless, we are still grappling with what it means to belong somewhere and what it takes to
reach that coveted sense of belonging.

We were born in the wake of America’s most tragic days, spent our formative years learning during one of the world’s harshest economic downturns, graduated from high school in the middle of a pandemic, and now are leaving college to enter one of the most turbulent and divided political landscapes our country and world has ever seen—what more could go wrong?

It’s almost comical to think about how, at every turn, the world has seemed to give us signs that we don’t belong, that we can’t change things for the better. But, Class of 2024, I’m here to remind you—not to tell you, but to remind you—what you already know, even if it’s deep down … that you belong here. You belong at this institution, at this ceremony, on this stage, in your field, and, more broadly, in STEM; you belong, and you’ve got the proof to back it up. With the early mornings and late nights, the hard work (even when there seemed to be no end in sight) you persevered through a rigorous four years and showed why you deserve a seat at the table.

But here’s the dirty little secret: You belonged before any of that. In the words of Mister Rogers, “You don’t ever have to do anything sensational for people to love you.” It’s hard for us to see this simple but profound fact, but I’m sure that if you asked your parents or any loved ones here today, they’d agree that it’s true.

But you’re graduating from WPI. You have done something sensational. You truly earned this degree and today is a day to reflect on and celebrate that. Yet it is not your extraordinary efforts that led to your being loved and belonging; rather, it was belonging and love that led to you being extraordinary—love from our parents, teachers, friends, and mentors. Love is the prelude to belonging and belonging is the prelude to great things. Our generation is the most diverse, accepting, and socially conscious generation in history. We have created, and must continue to create, a community around belonging from which we will change the world.

Technically, belonging is a necessary human feeling of deep connectedness to people and places. But we have proven that belonging is deeper than a feeling. It is about valuing yourself and the people around you. It’s an understood consensus that we will make a space for all. Belonging is an active process that we have been engaging in since we stepped foot on WPI’s campus. We see it every day, when we embrace our friends and make new ones; when we share our ideas and listen to others’; when we stay focused on our common mission toward a better, more just world; when we understand that shared failure leads to shared learning and success by many different metrics. And, overall, that belonging is better when we’re together. We belong.

To learn about cutting-edge technologies and scientific discoveries at WPI takes an open mind. But no matter where you go and no matter what you do, an open heart is just as important. Remember that you belong, wherever that may be, and that the people around you are counting on you to believe that they belong too.

As history has shown us, when we stand united in times of trouble—as we have for the last four years—there is no challenge too great for our generation to meet. But it’s not just about raw perseverance through a situation; it’s about how we look out for one another and make sure no one is left behind. And, later, how we reflect on that situation and make change for the better. As in the wake of this campus’s darkest days, the memory of students we so tragically lost reminds us just how important belonging, acceptance, the ability to change the status quo, and an open heart really are.

Before I conclude I’ll leave you with an old saying from where I’m from in New York. Maybe you’ve heard it: “I’m walkin’ here!” Soon you will be walking here—quite literally! But what that saying means is that you have your path, even if it’s not linear. When people try to get in your way, you need to remind them that it’s your journey nonetheless. So, when they tell you that you don’t belong, that you’re not smart enough, that you don’t look the part, or that you don’t sound the part, you stand up tall, you remember your grit, your resilience, your strength, and your love, your belonging, and you tell them to fuggedaboutit and proclaim (say it with me): “I’m walking here!”

Levitan is currently working as a medical assistant for a group of primary care physicians before starting a master’s degree program at Columbia University this fall. He also plans to apply to medical school in 2025.