On paper, Canisius University was everything I wanted: small class sizes, a strong communication program, and a mission rooted in Jesuit values—justice, service, and community. And for a while, it felt like the right place. I met professors who challenged me, friends who uplifted me, and classmates who taught me what solidarity truly means.

But to leave it at that would be dishonest. Because for every inspiring class discussion or meaningful connection, there were moments that left me drained, angry, and disillusioned. Beneath the surface of Jesuit ideals lived a culture of cliques, hypocrisy, racism, homophobia, transphobia, and institutional silence. I often found myself navigating an environment that failed to live up to the values it claimed to hold dear.

I’ve protested at Canisius more times than I can count. I’ve stood on sidewalks with signs. I’ve handed out Plan B to students who deserved access to basic healthcare. I’ve organized, spoken out, and pushed back—even when it meant campus police were called on me for doing so. My activism was not fueled by hate. It was fueled by love—for people, for justice, and for the potential I believe Canisius still holds.

One of the proudest moments of my time here was receiving the 2024 Dr. I. Joan Lorch Award for Women & Gender Studies—a recognition for students who exemplify the pursuit of liberation and justice regarding sex, gender, and sexuality. I was honored for the creation of Gender Gazette and for organizing a pro-choice demonstration in response to the Canisius Students for Life’s “Everybody Deserves a Birthday” event.

In collaboration with Queen City Feminist, we set up just off campus, distributing over 200 boxes of free Plan B. We spoke with students, handed out pins and stickers, and debunked misinformation about reproductive health. We showed up because students deserve to feel safe. They deserve access to accurate information and the ability to make decisions about their bodies without shame or manipulation.

When I gave my acceptance speech for the Lorch Award, I talked about gender justice—not just as a concept, but as a lived reality. I reflected on the way abortion rights intersect with media messaging, masculinity, and systemic inequality. I joked about “the successful masculine zombie,” a line that got an unexpected laugh, but also underscored a deeper point: our culture is saturated with gender norms that stifle all of us.

Gender justice is about more than just one issue. It includes abortion access, pronoun respect, protection from sexual violence, closing the pay gap, and dismantling harmful stereotypes in every sphere of life. My education in Strategic Communication gave me the tools to understand how media shapes these narratives—and how we can reshape them ourselves.

Canisius has taught me hard truths: that institutions often resist change, that speaking up can be isolating, and that progress is slow. But it also taught me that courage is contagious. I found my voice here—through conflict, through community, and through countless conversations that started with discomfort and ended in transformation.

To the professors who believed in me, thank you. To the students who protested, wrote, or simply listened—thank you. You helped me believe that another world is possible.

I’m leaving Canisius not just with a degree, but with conviction. The fight for gender justice doesn’t end at graduation. It continues wherever I go—and I’ll keep showing up, just like I did on Main Street that day, with a box of Plan B in one hand and my values in the other.

To the next generation of students: keep pushing. Speak up. Organize. Educate. You have more power than you think.