Dean - Speeches & Writing - 2026 Graduation Academic Regalia Ceremony

Alright, I’m going to cut to the chase. As an interim dean, this is likely my only chance to deliver one of these addresses. The faculty are timing me to keep this under 10 minutes, so my time is tight. (Looking at you, Lipson.)

So, with no further ado, I am here to share with you none other than … the meaning of life.

You ready?

I have long believed that the secret to the good life comes down to two very simple things: experience and impact.

OK, maybe not the most profound insight ever delivered at a graduation ceremony. But bear with me.

First: experience.

Experience all this world has to offer. Travel. Seek adventure. Take chances. Do not be complacent with routine. Challenge yourself. Be unafraid to be silly. Make yourself uncomfortable. And always, always seek to learn.

When I was contemplating pursuing a Ph.D., an influential mentor of mine, Yacov Haimes, a legendary systems engineering professor here at UVA, challenged me in a way that changed mt life. As a kid from a steel mill town in Pennsylvania, I did not come from means. I had no network to draw upon. Professor Haimes told me to invest in my most valuable asset: my brain.

Become a life-long learner, he would say. Seek experiences that challenge the mind and enrich the soul.

Experience.

Second: impact.

The measure of a woman or man is the positive impact that they have on others and the world. I challenge all of you to aim big. Innovate solutions. Launch ventures. Finance new technologies. Create products and services that address critical challenges. Improve human health. Address climate change. Lead ethically and with purpose.

Have impact. Make impact.

So, is it just that simple? Experience and impact?

When I was a younger man, roughly the age many of you are today, during a lighter time better known as the 1990s, I read an article in Outside Magazine that inspired me to create a list of 50 life experiences I hoped to have.

(For the younger students here today, a magazine was an ancient document printed on glossy paper. Ask your parents.)

My list included lots of travel and adventure: see the Great Wall of China, hike the Swiss Alps and learn to surf. There were accomplishments too: write a book, lead an organization.

My biggest regret was placing “shoot par in golf” on the list. Given my handicap of 20-plus, that seems highly unlikely.

But buried on my list of experiences was one peculiar entry: teach my son how to box out in basketball. To be clear, I made that list before I had children, let alone a son.

But somehow, 27-year-old Mike stumbled onto something important: that a quiet moment between a father and a son in a driveway might matter just as much as any grand adventure — maybe more.

Nearly 30 years later, I still carry that list in my wallet. It reminds me not only of the aspirations of my younger self, but also how much I value those quieter moments now than I did back in my pre-iPhone twenties.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to appreciate that the most cherished experiences in life and the most consequential impacts we make are rarely the “big E” experiences or the “big I” impacts.

They are the small e’s and the small I’s.

The daily ways we show up for one another.

A funny moment with colleagues. A smile exchanged with a stranger. A knowing hug for a friend in need.

Graduates, today is unquestionably a big-E experience. Remember this day. Celebrate it.

But I am willing to bet that your most cherished experiences from your time at Darden, the things that you will remember most fondly, will be all the small “e” experiences.

The late night preparing tomorrow’s OPS case with your learning team in a study room.

Pounding the table and singing your section song despite the ungodly 8 a.m. class start. Coffee with a faculty member in Café 67.

A Cold Call on Flagler Court on a warm spring evening, with dogs and children milling about and good cheer everywhere.

Watching ice skaters, right where I’m standing now, on what became known as Snowcrete.

And similarly, your biggest impacts at Darden were not those big-I moments: being elected a club president, landing that coveted internship, or surviving a cold call from Elena. (Though I will admit that the last one is genuinely impressive).

Your biggest impacts were likely the smaller moments. Helping a learning team member calculate discounted cash flows.

Teaching a section mate how to bat in cricket before the Darden Cup.

Helping a friend find the courage to appear in the Darden Runway and Glamour Show.

As you begin the next chapter of your lives and careers, I challenge you to seek those small e’s and small i’s.

Do not obsess over your resume self: the accomplishments, the accolades, the titles.

Instead, invest in your eulogy self: the person your loved ones will remember and speak about one day.

My grandfather lived to 96. He helped desegregate Philadelphia public schools. He was an accomplished man. Yet at his funeral, his career received only passing mention. He was remembered as a husband, a father and a friend — a good reminder of a long, well-lived life.

My wife’s grandfather lived his entire life in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina. He did not graduate from high school. He worked at the local paper mill. His resume was brief, if he ever prepared one. Yet at his funeral, dozens and dozens of people spoke about the depth of his impact as a friend and neighbor.

Do not underestimate the power of the small i.

Which brings me to some final pieces of advice.

(How am I doing on time, Lipson?)

I often say that there are three critical decisions in life:

Who are my partners?

What is my purpose?

And where is my place?

First, your partners.

Who do you want beside you on this journey? A spouse. Family. Friends. Your ride-or-die people.

When I was about your age, I once asked an executive at my firm whether he had any regrets about his career. He talked enthusiastically about the intellectual challenges, the excitement of the work, and the money he made.

And then, almost wistfully, he admitted that if he had one regret, it was not spending enough time with his wife and children.

Wow.

Your partners are not a means to some ends. They are the ends.

For me, marrying my wife, Macy, was the single best decision I have ever made. There is nothing more important in my life than my family.

Second, your purpose.

This is something we talk about constantly here at Darden: find your purpose. Pursue your purpose.

And yes, that can be overwhelming.

Hopefully, your purpose aligns with your career. Life is easier when your work and purpose reinforce one another.

Some MBAs like to ask: “How much money do I need to accumulate so I can retire early?”

Now, I’m all for proper retirement planning. But the “nest egg” is a myth.

The few people I’ve known who exited early — all entrepreneurs — lasted about a week on the golf course before starting their next venture.

Human beings are meant to have purpose.

So instead of asking, “When can I stop working?” I encourage you to ask, “What is the kind of work for which I would never want to stop doing it?”

I love being an academic. I am deeply grateful for my purpose. I used to joke that they were going to have to take me out of here on a stretcher.

Though, as I get older, I suspect the students will vote me off the island well before that happens.

Finally: your place.

This is the lesson I took the longest to learn.

Only through dedicated time and commitment can one make a lasting impression on a place. What is the community, organization, or institution that you wish to have the biggest impact?

Now, I recommend that you do not stress out about finding your place at this time of your life. Explore. Move to different cities. Work for a variety of organizations. Wander a bit.

But eventually, ask yourself: where is my place?

For some, it may be a town or community, like my wife’s grandfather.

For others, it may be an institution, such as the many legendary Darden faculty and staff who have shaped this school across generations.

I am grateful every day for finding my place: this university, this school, this community.

Which brings me back to this moment. This nexus of people, purpose, and place.

To share one last bit of advice:

Love.

Love one another.

Love your fellow travelers on this journey through life.

At the heart of experience and impact are the connections we make with one another: our partners, our purpose and our place.

Go forth and be responsible leaders with purpose. Do big things.

But understand that the good life is lived in the small letters: the little e experiences and little i impacts shared with people you love, in pursuit of meaningful purpose, in the place you choose to call home.

Graduates of the Darden community: Congratulations.

Now, go forth and lead with joy and gratitude.

And most importantly — love.