Commencement Address 2026

Good evening, faculty, parents, friends, members of the clergy and most importantly, the Tyburn Academy of Mary Immaculate Class of 2026.

When I was asked to speak today, I felt incredibly honored. But I also questioned if I would have enough of a connection to the graduating class to offer a meaningful message. And then I realized we do have a connection....and that connection is 17 Clymer Street.

You see, while I may not have attended or taught at Tyburn Academy, my introduction to a Catholic education started at 17 Clymer Street...when my two children attended what-was-then St. Mary’s preschool and elementary school. Like most of tonight’s graduates, 17 Clymer Street provided my first real exposure to the power and uniqueness of a Catholic education. It was where I, as a parent, began to see my children’s lives, values and faith enriched in ways I did not know was possible. It was where I witnessed a wonderful and gracious community that cared deeply about each student and each other. That same community – today called Tyburn Academy – is still – thankfully -- transforming lives at 17 Clymer Street.

Let me take you back to a morning in September of 1993. A visionary priest named Father Albert Shamon had a bold dream to open a new Catholic high school in Auburn. When the doors swung open for the very first time on that bright autumn morning, do you know how many students walked through them? Three. Just three students.

I want you to imagine that for a second. You might think you are a small class within a small school. But imagine being one-third of the entire student body. Now look at this church tonight. Look at this wonderful graduating class. Tyburn has grown. You have grown. But at your core, you have proudly maintained that beautiful, intimate, "small-school" DNA.

I love small schools, and Tyburn Academy is the definition of a great one. There is something truly magical about graduating with a close-knit class. In a massive high school, you can hide. You can blend into the background. You can be a face in a crowd. But not here. In a class of 13, anonymity is a myth. Think about it. If you were absent, Mr. O’Donnell probably texted your mom. If you were having a bad day, everyone knew it. You aren't just classmates. Let’s be honest. You are practically related. You know each other’s quirks, playlists and favorite foods.

But there is a beautiful upside to this. Because Tyburn is small, nobody got lost in the shuffle. You couldn't hide your talents even if you tried. If the weekly chapel reflections needed someone to lead them, you stepped up. If the soccer team needed a bench, you sat on it. If the Spring Retreat needed leadership, you provided it. You were forced to grow. You were forced to step up. Look around this church. Look at your parents and your grandparents. Let’s be real for a second. They didn't just invest tuition money to get you here. They invested in endless gas. They survived countless fundraisers. And they probably offered up enough prayers to get you through Mr. Delaney’s English class.

And look at your teachers. They didn’t just grade your papers. They knew your story. They stayed late when you didn’t understand the homework assignment.They believed in you...when you forgot to believe in yourself. You are the product of a community that truly looked at you and saw you. As you know, Tyburn Academy has a unique name. Most Catholic schools are named after a single saint. But your school’s founder, Father Shamon, named this institution after a place—the Tyburn Crossroads in London. That is where, between the 16th and 17th centuries, over 100 Catholic martyrs gave their lives because they refused to compromise their faith. They stood firm in the truth when the culture around them demanded they bend.

Now, I am not suggesting that you will be asked to face physical harm. But you are entering a culture that will ask you to compromise what you know to be true. In the weeks and months ahead, you will be heading off to college, joining the military or entering the workplace. You are going from a place where everyone knows your business to places where you might just be a number on a spreadsheet.

At first, that might sound liberating. Perhaps you can sleep in. Or sit in the back row. Nobody will text your mom if you skip a lecture. But eventually, that big world can start to feel a little lonely. Our modern culture measures success by numbers. It cares about how many followers you have. It cares about your job title. The world looks at the crowd. But your education at Tyburn has taught you a different metric. It taught you that God does not look at crowds. He looks at hearts. In the book of Isaiah (43:1), God says, "I have called you by name; you are mine." He doesn’t say, "I have called you by your student ID number." He says your name.

Like the martyrs of Tyburn, you are called to stand for something. The world will try to convince you that you are small, anonymous, and insignificant. Do not believe it. Your value was fixed the day you were created. You don't have to earn it, and you certainly can't lose it.

So, what do you do with this?

Your mission out there is simple: take the Tyburn mindset into this massive world. Your job is to make big, lonely places feel small and warm. When you get to your dorm or your new job, keep your eyes open. Notice the person sitting alone in the dining hall. Notice the coworker who looks overwhelmed. Walk over to them. Introduce yourself. Ask them their name.

Why? Because you went to a school where you couldn't look away. You learned how to notice people. You learned how to build community. That is your superpower. And as you navigate this next chapter, keep your faith active. Don't make it complicated. God doesn't need formal poetry. He just wants to hear from you. Talk to Him in your dorm room. Talk to Him on your drive to work. A messy, conversational prayer in the middle of a stressful week is worth more than a perfect prayer you don't mean.

Class of 2026, you are ready for this.

You have the foundation.

You have the faith.

You have each other.

I want to leave you with four final pieces of advice.

Work hard.

Pray harder.

Call your mother.

And never forget where you came from...17 Clymer Street.

In closing....May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be always at your back. And may you always find a parking spot right before Sunday Mass starts.

Congratulations, Tyburn Academy Class of 2026!