“A decision to pursue a career in public health is a noble and worthwhile decision, and to do so especially right now, is in and of itself, an act of radical courage.”

“Keep dreaming and remain in unapologetic and in active pursuit of making those dreams a reality, just as you did with your degree. Change can’t wait. And neither can the world—for you.”

Video (YouTube)

BOSTON – In case you missed it, Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley (MA-07) delivered the keynote address at the Boston University School of Public Health’s (BUSPH) 2025 Convocation in which she shared a powerful and personal message of hope, urgency, and moral clarity. In her remarks, Rep. Pressley described her own journey at Boston University, discussed the critical role of public health professionals amidst the Trump Administration’s anti-health, anti-science, and anti-research agenda, and encouraged graduates to continue doing the work necessary to build a more just and healthy world.

A transcript of the Congresswoman’s remarks, as delivered, is available below, and the full video is available here.

Transcript: Rep. Ayanna Pressley’s Keynote Address at Boston University School of Public Health’s Convocation
May 17, 2025

Thank you, Dean Stein, for that warm welcome and introduction. I am so deeply disappointed to be joining you by Zoom. This is what you call a hard pivot. I was in the airport for some seven hours—planes, trains and automobiles trying to get to you all. 

I’m so sorry that weather got in the way of that, but I am so glad that I’m joining you, at least virtually, because nothing ultimately was going to stop me from congratulating the BU School of Public Health on this incredible milestone in your life and this incredible occasion.

And it’s full circle in so many ways—you know, for me, as I’ve said many times before, Chicago is the city that raised me, Boston is the city that changed me, and Boston University had so much to do with that. So again, I’m so grateful and humbled to be invited to be your convocation speaker this year. 

Again, Boston University, even virtually, it’s good to be in community with you. Chicago is a city that raised me, Boston is the city that changed me, and Boston University is the place that forever changed the trajectory of my life. 

It is the place where I arrived as an idealistic teenager, eager to continue my education and expand my horizons. 

So what a gift, truly, to share this life milestone and achievement for these 440 scholars and very soon graduates,  the Class of 2025. 

This is one of my favorite times of the year: commencement. A time to pause and recognize the extraordinary achievements of students here at BU and beyond, who have persevered and sacrificed in order to make this day a reality for themselves and their families. 

Now I don’t know each of your stories, but I know that you each have one. I know you’ve overcome life obstacles. I know that there were days you questioned what it’s all for and wanted to quit—where you were overwhelmed by life, fatigue, self doubt. But you persisted. And I’m so damn glad that you did.

A decision to pursue a career in public health is a noble and worthwhile decision, and to do so right now—to do so, especially right now, is in and of itself, an act of radical courage.

An act of faith in a belief in something greater, a belief that another world is possible—one not dominated by greed or a culture of grievance, one that sees and centers the humanity, dignity, and health of all people. 

As you all know, while we may be in the wealthiest nation in the world, we also face unacceptable and persistent disparities in outcomes that are too often determined by the zip code you live in or the color of your skin. 

To be clear, these outcomes are human made. They are the consequence of moral failings, budgetary neglect, and policy violence. 

You need look no further than the case study of the Massachusetts 7th, right here, where a simple three mile bus ride from Harvard to Roxbury sees life expectancy drop by 30 years. 

No doubt you’ve heard this statistic before—you may have even heard me recite it before. I imagine folks are tired of hearing it, but I don’t care, because what matters most is how tired people are of living it. 

These are the challenges that the class of 2025 will face head on, against the backdrop of an anti-science, anti-research, anti-data, anti-equity, anti-health, anti-people agenda. 

The essential mission of public health is under attack right now. The landscape you will be forced to navigate is unprecedented. The systems that public health professionals have poured their sweat equity into building are being dismantled with carelessness and a cruelty that is shocking, that will have devastating consequences for generations.

There is a greed that pulls too many, to look past the humanity of those who are struggling or less fortunate. These decisions are driven by greed—and cruelty is the point.

Some people think cutting pediatric cancer research is a fair trade for an unnecessary tax cut. Some people think taking food out of the mouths of hungry children to pay for a private jet is acceptable. Some people think government efficiency means making people hungrier and sicker. 

It is easy to lose hope in the overwhelm of it all. In fact, that is just the point. That is the design of it all. 

The current occupant of the White House and his dangerous conspirators want you to see their dark vision for our country as an inevitable fate, but I know better. You know better. We know better.

We possess the superpower that is hope. Hope that is strengthened by the moral clarity and resolve each of you have demonstrated to arrive at this very day. 

You have chosen to devote your lives to literally saving lives. 

Please hear me when I say you have made the right choice. You are on the right path. 

It is the brilliance and impatience of your generation who did not come to play, who will see us through these turbulent times.

And when we get to the other side of this—and we will—you will be able to tell your children and your grandchildren about where you stood and the choices you made. 

You’ll be able to tell them when everything was at stake, when it would have been easier and perhaps even safer, to retreat, to be silent, to change paths—you held firm. 

You chose to stand for truth. You chose to stand for justice. You chose to stand for your neighbor, by your neighbor, and for humanity. You chose to stand for public health because you believe like I do, that our greatest wealth as a nation is the health of our people. 

Here in Massachusetts and in Boston, we are lucky to have some of the brightest minds in public health, in the arts, in biotech, in higher education, and on and on. I know that the amazing faculty and dedicated staff here at BU have prepared you well to join that distinguished club.

Whether you are preparing to join the workforce or planning to continue your education, just know that we need you. 

We need your ideas and idealism. We need your passion and perspectives. We need your empathy and expertise. And I know the diversity of this year’s class will only serve to strengthen the solutions to our most pressing challenges. 

You know, it’s hard to believe diversity is more frightening to some than a dictator and the rise of fascism. It’s hard to believe there are men in leadership who care more about growing their millions and billions than preventing measles outbreaks. And yet, here we are. 

But I digress. While the current occupant of the White House carries out a coordinated attack on our public health systems, you are prepared to stand in the gap. 

From the Black maternal health crisis to the opioid epidemic to the lingering impacts of COVID and those living with long COVID, there is no shortage of work to be done. As the Congresswoman who represents Massachusetts’ 7th, one of the most unequal districts in our Commonwealth and country across all outcomes, especially health — I know the need for care is great. 

Our communities need you. Our communities deserve you. The years you have spent learning, growing, and forging partnerships here at Boston University will be brought to our nonprofits, our hospitals, our board rooms—and we will be the better for it. 

For many, you may be the first person in your family to receive a master’s or a doctorate—impressive achievements that I hope will carry you in difficult times.

Your next role will have its difficulties. You may be in rooms where no one else looks like you, grew up where you did, or shares your background. While that can be daunting, it is also essential in order for our communities to have the best policies.

There have been times in my life, from my first internship while a student at BU—at a satellite office in Roxbury, working for former Congressman Joseph P. Kennedy II—all the way to my own time in Congress, where I was the only Black woman in the room.

And when I entered, I called the question, I raised different questions that would not have come up otherwise. We’re all better served when solutions are being developed through a diverse prism, not through one that is monolithic and homogenized. 

This is why personnel is policy. We live intersectional lives that demand intersectional policies. Any organization can’t be its best if you do not have a diversity of perspective, opinion, and thought around the table. 

And in this work, I have relied on and benefited from two Boston University School of Public Health grads to legislate health, wellness, and justice. As a Boston City Councilor, my longtime Chief of Staff, Jessica Ridge, was a proud BU School of Public Health graduate, and her experience here — her unique lens and attention to the intersectional nature of health outcomes — were critical to our policy agenda.

From fighting for more walkable sit down restaurants and communities to literally rewriting the sex ed curriculum at Boston Public Schools, she connected the policy decisions to outcomes. And together, we centered the people who stood to be the most impacted in crafting the solutions. 

That’s where my ethos, “the people closest to the pain should be closest to the power, driving and informing the policy making,” came from. The practice of cooperative governing, being proximate to those closest to the pain, to better understand the nuances, complexities and intersectionalities, but also to harness the best solutions. 

That practice continued in Congress. My first senior advisor in DC, Lynese Wallace, used what she learned on campus and her own lived experiences as a Black woman to shepherd our shared work to address the Black maternal mortality crisis. 

Now for you. There is a set path laid before you as a researcher, clinician, practitioner, policymaker, or whatever role sings to your soul and your passions. 

I know the degree you walk out of this ceremony with today will give you the foundation to make a difference. It has to me, and the constituents that I serve.

And ultimately, we are all better served by the policies advanced when we include different approaches and perspectives in writing them. 

As a former BU student, I’m especially proud that the School of Public Health has not in any way run away or retreated from your commitment to diversity, equity and inclusion, even as assaults on these programs and initiatives rage on across the country. I hope that your courage is contagious.

While there are active efforts underway to perpetuate fiction rather than to teach facts, it is a fact that systemic oppression, codified in our laws and budgets, has discriminately harmed women, people of color, the LGBTQIA community, persons with disabilities, and other underserved communities in this country. 

I’m so glad that you have been called. I’m so glad that you have been compelled to pursue a career in public health because you want to undo the harms of past injustices and prevent future harms. You want policies and systems that are just, equitable, and people-centered. 

It is the challenge and the responsibility before each of us during these deeply consequential times to summon our unique gifts and talents in service to our communities to mitigate harm and to advance progress. 

The moment in time — this moment in time — isn’t merely about how to survive the next four years. It is about shaping the next 100 years. 

And I am enlisting each of you as architects in that shaping. I believe it is possible. I believe another world is possible. You do too.

Cling to that and pass it on. Radical work begins with a radical dream. 

I dream of a world where health equity is a given, not an afterthought. 

I dream of a world where Black men grow old. 

I dream of a world where gender affirming care is a right, and trans children are not political props. 

I dream of a world where pain is believed — everyone’s pain is believed — in healthcare settings. 

I dream of a world where you can be Black and birthing and safe and live to raise your child. 

I dream of a world where housing and healthcare are rights, not privileges. 

I dream of a world where no one knows hunger, water is drinkable, air is breathable.

Radical work begins with a radical dream. 

Graduates, keep dreaming and remain in unapologetic and active pursuit of making those dreams a reality, just as you did with your degree.

Change can’t wait. And neither can the world for you. 

Congratulations, graduates!

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