Governor Moore Delivers Johnson C. Smith University Commencement Address

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ANNAPOLIS, MD — Governor Wes Moore today delivered the commencement address to the Johnson C. Smith University Class of 2026. The governor urged the graduating “Golden Bulls” to lead as “citizen-scholars”: stepping into spaces unapologetically, building something that lasts, and leaving no one behind.

The following is Governor Moore’s remarks as delivered:

What's going on, my fellow Golden Bulls, how are we doing?

J-C!

[Audience responds, "S-U!"]

J-C!

[Audience responds, "S-U!"]

J-C!

[Audience responds, "S-U!"]

See, I am an alum now, so I can say that. I am so grateful. And I am humbled, and I am honored to be able to be up here.

And first, Madam President, you are absolutely outstanding. And can we please give it up for President Kinloch and the amazing work that she does and continues to do? 

Sincerely, your reputation, not just in North Carolina, but all around the country, is just spectacular. So we are so grateful for you. 

I'm thankful that I have a chance to be here with leaders that I admire.

Provost Martin and Chairman Boyd, God bless you all, and thank you so much.

What a distinct honor it is to be here in your presence.

Congresswoman – my friend – Congresswoman Adams, God bless you, and thank you for the leadership you continue to show. And the leadership you show not when it's easy, but when it's hard.

I'm grateful to have a chance to be here and to be in the city of Mayor Lyles.

I'm grateful to have a chance to be here with this Board of Trustees, this faculty, this staff.

And by the way, can we please give another special shout-out to Kyla and Jaden for the remarkable jobs that they have done? You continue to hold the light high.

But most importantly, to this class.

To the ones that everybody is here to see, and everybody is here to celebrate.

Every alum, every faculty member, every friend, every family member is here to watch you shine because you have earned that with everything that you have done.

To this class, congratulations.

And it is so powerful to me, Madam President, to be here with somebody who is not new to this institution, but who is true to this institution. This is an institution that shaped her.

That is the power of Johnson C. Smith. That's the story of Johnson C. Smith. And that's the legacy of Johnson C. Smith.

That this institution takes in students and it produces leaders.

It produces leaders who the world needs right now.

And to every single one of you graduates, I want to tell you that the world needs you now as much as ever before.

That despite a pandemic potentially shaping your entry into this institution. Despite the fact that for so many of you, you were holding down multiple jobs, despite the fact that for many of you, there was no road map for you. You persevered, and you made it. That the beauty of the degree that you're going to get today is very clear in one simple phrase. Nothing was given. Everything was earned. And you earned today.

And I know that for every one of you, as you're graduating today, you had a whole bunch of questions.

You're going to be met with more.

They're going to ask you questions: What was your GPA? And what is your major? And what are you going to do next?

I know when I had a chance to meet many of you earlier on, I asked those same questions.

And it's going to feel annoying. And it's going to feel unnecessary.

But the truth is, when people ask you what your major is or what you're going to do next, I do want to be clear that those might feel like important questions right now.

But those questions will fade.

They might feel like they're the most important questions in the world right now. And eventually, people will stop asking.

Because the truth is, I graduated decades ago, and nobody ever anymore asks me what my college major was. Nobody ever asks me about my GPA. No one ever asks me about how I did on that test that I stayed up all night studying for.

Those questions will fade.

The most important question that you're going to be asked is not: “what did you study here?”

The most important question you're going to be asked is who did you choose to fight for?

Who mattered?

Who did you choose to fight for when it wasn't easy?

Who did you choose to fight for when it actually might cost you something?

Who did you choose to fight for when, at first, it might have just been you standing up there alone fighting for them?

And it was okay. Because you didn't do it because it was simple. You did it because it was right. And you would do it over and over and over again if asked.

Who you will fight for is truly what you have learned at this institution.

Johnson C. Smith was built for a moment like this, because Johnson C. Smith was built in a moment like this.

In the spring of 1867, during Reconstruction, a small group of Presbyterian ministers met in a church and signed a charter for this school.

The first classrooms on this hilltop were not built with new lumber. They were built from wood from the old Confederate Naval Yard in Charlotte. That this place was built with wood that was used to wage war. This place was built with wood that was used to enslave our ancestors. Wood that would eventually become buildings of education for our ancestors.

The founders of this institution knew who they were fighting for. And that's why they never stopped fighting.

The founders of this institution fought for the hope of you – and for the hope of today. And that's why they never stopped fighting.

Class of 2026, that's the assignment. To be citizen-scholars. To know that what you learn will be the foundation of your contribution, but your courage and your participation will be the fuel that ignites the citizens that we need you to be right now.

We need it. 

Because the contributions of the citizen-scholars from generations before are now under attack right now.

The contributions of those who founded this place are being questioned right now.

That right now, we are watching the greatest assault on Black voter representation that we have seen in generations.

We are watching political redlining happening in real time.

It's happening across this country, and it is happening right here in North Carolina. For the fifth time in just six years, this state's lawmakers have now drawn new congressional maps.

The goal is deeply obvious.

It is to silence Black voters. To suppress Black leadership. And to make the pain that we are feeling permanent.

We are now in a situation where, for all you graduates, your children are now threatened to have fewer voting rights than your parents.

That's where we are.

And we must refuse to live in a society where we allow our freedoms to be rolled back.

It is not lost on me that I am here as the only Black governor in this country – and only the third African American ever elected as governor in the history of the United States of America.

But I do want to be clear. That's not something to be proud of. It's an indictment. Because in no way, shape, or form am I only the third African American ever qualified to be a governor in the history of this country.

It's a recrimination against the progress that has come too slow in this country.

With states re-examining maps, I have been clear from day one. If there is going to be a national conversation about fair maps across our nation, then my state, the state of Maryland, would be part of that conversation. And Maryland is still very much going to be a part of that conversation.

Because I refuse to sit quietly. And the audacity of anybody who is going to tell us to sit quietly shows that they have no understanding of the journey of so many who came before us.

This weekend, people are marching in Alabama and all across the South as part of the All Roads Lead to the South Day of Action.

And I want to be crystal clear that as Governor of the northernmost southern state in this country – a state where the Mason-Dixon Line runs through our soil, a state where the bloodiest battles of the Civil War took place in the state of Maryland – we cannot and we will not sit quiet while the freedoms that others fought for are being stolen from us in broad daylight. Not now. And not ever.

Class of 2026, you are entering the world in the middle of a battle. And we need you all to soldier up.

And I believe it does come down to some basic principles. 

And the first thing, as you take these degrees today: step into places and spaces unapologetically, even when it is tough.

We are going to need you in boardrooms. We are going to need you in classrooms. We are going to need you in courtrooms. We are going to need you in hospitals. We are going to need you in halls of power. We are going to need you taking up your rightful position of leadership. 

And I want to be very clear: every room that you are in, you are not in that room because of someone's kindness. Every room you are in, you are not there because of someone's benevolence. You are not there because of a social experiment. You are not there because someone wanted to sprinkle diversity to the room.

You are in that room because you belong in that room. You are in that room because it was incomplete until you walked in.

Never be afraid to show your excellence. Never bow your heads. Make them bow theirs.

The second thing that this school has taught you is to build something that lasts.

Because anybody can destroy. Anybody can break down. But leaders build. Smithites build.

Builders are the ones that we remember.

Builders like J. Charles Jones.

Both of his parents taught here at JCSU. In his senior year, he became a spokesperson for the Charlotte Sit-In Movement. He organized lunch counter sit-ins and desegregated downtown Charlotte. And a few weeks later, he traveled to Raleigh and helped to co-found the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee. A Smithite, sixty-six years ago, built an institution from this campus that gave Black young people more power.

He knew what it meant to build. And you know who else knows what it means to build?

Isabella Gonce. Your Student Government Association President knows what it means to build.

Good to see you, Madam President.

Because this year, Isabella strengthened – I was about to say please stand up, keep standing. Because this year, she strengthened the Student Government Association's constitution. She built the first-ever judicial branch in the history of the university. She worked with her peers to ratify with a two-thirds Senate vote.

And as Isabella put it, “Passion and personality can start change. But systems are what protect it. It's about building systems that respect people, that create clarity, that continue working even when the faces in the room change.”

Madam President, well done, you are a builder and you make all of us proud. God bless you.

Showing up not when it's easy. Showing up when it's necessary.

And that leads me to the third thing that this school has prepared you all to do.

Leave no one behind.

I remember when I was 17 years old when I first joined the Army.

I was so young my mother had to sign the paperwork for me. But after my teenage years, my mom signed whatever paperwork that the Army put in front of her.

And I learned that on my second day in the military – leave no one behind. Ever.

And I know who also understands that is a Smithite named Rose Gaines. Who graduated from Johnson C. Smith a year after Bloody Sunday. She went on to law school, and she became a civil rights attorney. She became the first Black woman ever to serve as a judge in the entire state of Alabama. And today we know her as Faya Ora Rose Touré. Who founded the National Voting Rights Museum and Institute in Selma and is still working to organize in Selma to this day.

Do you know who also understands that? Marvin Brown.

Marvin, can you stand up again, please? We are going to give you exercise; keep standing up and sitting down like this, brother.

Marvin is from South Carolina. At 17 years old, he worked two different jobs. He earned a James B. Duke Scholarship to come to Johnson C. Smith. He is graduating today summa cum laude – one year early at the age of 20. This brother's going to go celebrate and have a soda. I love it.

He’s heading to Georgetown Law, and he’s getting a Master's in Public Policy.

And last September, he stood on this campus and introduced three leaders born in his hometown.

One of the people that he introduced was Councilman Malcolm Graham. I had the honor of spending time with Councilman Graham a little earlier. And he was also sharing that his sister, Cynthia, was one of the nine people killed at Mother Emanuel in 2015.

I went back and I took a look, and I just want to share something that Marvin said that night: “From the pain of tragedy can come a purpose. And from Charleston's story comes a call for courage.”

Councilman, first, I want to let you know how much we all, and our entire society, continue to lift you and your family up in prayer. And knowing how you have turned pain into purpose has been an inspiration to each and every one of us. God bless you, and know you have a prayer angel surrounding you every single day.

And Marvin, I want to say for each and every one of us, we're not just rooting for your success. We need it. And we need you to keep on leading.

To this entire Class of 2026.

The weight will feel heavy. It will feel like a lot.

You are walking into a world where for many people it feels like it's upside down. You're going to have to walk into leadership spaces where, frankly, we have people who have very big titles who are doing absolutely nothing with them. You are walking into a society where people are intentionally using their power to hurt other people who don't have the same amount of power.

We need you in these spaces. We need you in these rooms. We need you to lead with values, with love – unapologetic and unafraid. We need you to be able to go into the rooms where you belong. We need you to build better systems. We need you to leave no one behind.

If you do these things, you will not just represent this school with distinction. You will also lift others up as you climb.

Because that has always been the mission of this institution: To lend a hand to a child in poverty. To lend a hand to the factory worker who is trying to earn a good wage. To lend a hand to the single parent who is struggling to raise two kids. To the person who wants to make sure that their vote matters and their voice matters. Or to the young man who felt handcuffs on his wrists at 11 years old – whose mother did not get her first job that gave her benefits until he was 14 – but who now stands in front of you as the 63rd Governor of the state of Maryland.

If you don't fight for our folks, who will?

We know who's attacking them. We now need to know who's going to fight for them.

So I leave you with the question that this school has been asking since 1867. The same one that J. Charles Jones answered at a Charlotte lunch counter. The same one that Faya Ora Rose Touré is still answering in Selma.

Who are you going to fight for?

Who will matter?

Who are you willing to stand on the wall for?

Who will you let know that it mattered that you were even here in the first place?

The people who carved Sit Lux into a cornerstone in Biddle Hall in 1884 did not put those two words there as a wish. They put those words together as an instruction – and as the assignment.

“Let there be light.”

And may you all be the ones to make sure that everybody can see it.

God bless you all. Congratulations, Class of 2026. Keep leading, keep fighting. Do not give up, and keep pushing for the people.

God bless you guys, and congratulations.

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