The Westridge community gathered on Frank Field to celebrate the Class of 2026 during Commencement on June 5. Lena Alfi '05, this year's Commencement Speaker, is a dedicated leader with over 15 years of experience in international development, most recently serving as the CEO of Malala Fund, an international nonprofit founded by Nobel Peace Prize recipient Malala Yousafzai. With a deep passion for education and women’s rights, Alfi has spent her career casting strategic vision and forging transformative partnerships to advance education for girls worldwide. At Malala Fund, she led a global team of experts and advocates who work tirelessly to ensure all girls have access to 12 years of free, safe, and quality education. 

 

Commencement Remarks by Lena Alfi '05, 2026 Commencement Speaker

My name is Lena Alfi, and I am also a graduate of Westridge, class of 2005.

To the graduating class: What an honor it is to stand before you today. I remember being in this exact same spot 21 years ago and having some of the same feelings you probably do: nervous, excited, proud, slightly overwhelmed, and feeling like I was stepping into the unknown.

And also… counting every second until you finally get to hold your diploma. Hang tight. You're almost there. I won’t be too long.

My experience at Westridge—I am sure similar to yours—was challenging, inspiring, and I later realized, formative in ways I have only come to appreciate with time.

When I first left Westridge, there were many teachers, classes, and friendships that stayed with me. But looking back now, more than two decades later, I realize the greatest gift Westridge gave me was not a transcript, a college acceptance, or even the confidence to stand before you today.

It gave me something far more valuable: a love of learning.

Learning is not simply about acquiring information. Learning is about expanding your world. It sharpens you. Strengthens you. Empowers you. And if there is one thing I hope you remember from today, it is this:

The most powerful thing you graduate with is not what you’ve learned—it’s your willingness to keep learning. As long as you continue learning, your power will continue to grow.

Before preparing these remarks, I had the opportunity to sit with a group of your classmates, and since we are at Westridge after all, I expected to meet bright young women. What I did not expect was to leave feeling genuinely hopeful about the future.

So many of you understood the privilege of studying and growing at a place like Westridge. So many of you were keenly aware of the world around you. I was struck by your passion for social justice. Your desire to give back to your communities. The way you spoke about one another with such deep respect and admiration.

Your confidence in your identities—not in the sense that you have all the answers, but in the sense that you are unafraid to become fully yourselves.

And then there were the dreams you shared.

Neuroscience. International affairs. Feminist studies. Economics. Dentistry. Public policy. Theater. Playwriting. Film. And so much more.

You are not entering the world waiting for permission to contribute to it. You are already imagining how to shape it. What struck me most was not the specific careers you described. It was your curiosity—the questions you are asking. The problems you aspire to solve. Curiosity is often underestimated, but every scientific breakthrough begins with someone asking, "What if?"

Every work of art. Every meaningful change. It all begins with curiosity.

Curiosity

One class at Westridge that stood out and ultimately inspired my major at USC was AP Art History with Betty Cole. I absolutely loved it. When I arrived at USC and decided to major in art history, I imagined myself spending my career in museums, discovering forgotten paintings in dusty archives.

But art history taught me something much bigger than art. I thought I was learning about paintings and sculptures. What I was really learning was how to ask questions. How to be curious.

Why did people create what they created? What did they value? What inspired them to create and share their work with the world? The answers mattered. But curiosity mattered even more. And that curiosity followed me to USC and beyond.

Over time, I realized that what fascinated me was not simply art itself, but people. Human experiences. Human stories. Human potential. How life was captured through art. How experiences differed from place to place and era to era. Why did they differ?

Then I took a general education course in international development, and suddenly a completely new world opened. I became curious about this field and dove into courses about it. I loved it so much that I ended up adding a new major and ultimately pursuing a career I had never even contemplated.  

So, piece of advice: It's okay to change your mind. You may be graduating today, certain about what you want to do and who you want to become. Stay curious. It may change. Be open to that change.

That curiosity changed the trajectory of my life. It taught me something I hope you carry with you:

Curiosity is not just a personality trait. It is a tool. It fuels learning, and learning expands what is possible.

Because my parents were as wonderful as they were—and because they came to this country as immigrants in pursuit of a better life—they made sure my siblings and I understood the privilege we were living in.

They taught us that the bubble of Pasadena was not the world. They reminded us that for much of the globe, life is defined by struggle, perseverance, sacrifice, and the hope that the next generation might have more opportunities than theirs.

After graduating from USC, I pursued a career in international development and kept asking questions about why some people are afforded the lives they have while others are not—and how that can change.

I traveled, volunteered, interned, and worked wherever I could. Over the years, I found myself in classrooms, villages, and bustling cities around the world. I met children for whom education was not the norm, but a hard-won opportunity. I met families for whom safety was not a given, but a daily uncertainty.

And none of the most meaningful opportunities in my life came from having all the answers. They came from remaining open enough to keep asking questions. Every new experience was a lesson that expanded my understanding of what was possible.

Listening & Humility

As you continue your pursuit of learning, what may be even more important than asking questions is your ability to stay humble and listen. Again, this is a tool that you can hone that will take you far: your ability to listen.

Years ago, I was working in a refugee camp in Jordan that housed Syrians displaced by the civil war. Around 80,000 people were living there, and the camp was filled with aid organizations from around the world. Everywhere you looked were people in cargo vests and tennis shoes trying to solve enormous problems: housing, food distribution, water systems, healthcare, and education.

Each organization arrived with expertise, resources, and a plan. There was one challenge, however, that seemed impossible to solve: reliable internet.

Experts were brought in. Thousands of dollars were spent. Different systems were tested. Yet for months, internet access remained unreliable or nonexistent in large parts of the camp.

This wasn't simply an inconvenience. Families relied on internet to communicate with loved ones. Students needed it to continue learning. Aid organizations needed it to coordinate critical services.

At the time, I was working with an organization that ran informal education centers to help children make up for the years of schooling they had lost. Over time, I began hearing rumors that there were parts of the camp where the internet worked surprisingly well. Because my family is originally Syrian, I spoke the language and developed close relationships with some of the families living there. Eventually, some parents explained what had happened.

The internet problem had already been solved.

Not by the engineers. Not by the consultants. Not by the international organizations.

It had been solved by a group of teenagers living in the camp.

These young people had figured out how to build and share a functioning network across sections of the camp. While experts kept searching for solutions, the people living with the problem every day had quietly found one themselves.

When I asked why more people didn't know about it, one parent gave a simple answer: "Nobody asked."

Some of the organizations were so focused on solving the problem themselves that they never stopped to listen to the people closest to it. And perhaps more importantly, they never expected the solution to come from a group of teenagers.

Time, money, and effort had been wasted because people had overlooked the knowledge already present in the community. They overlooked it because they weren't listening. That experience taught me something I have carried with me ever since.

Curiosity may open the door to learning, but humility is what allows us to walk through it.

Knowledge and talent are everywhere. But we only gain access to them when we are willing to listen. When we assume we already know the answer, we stop learning.

The organizations in that camp weren't lacking intelligence. They were lacking humility. And humility is what keeps learning alive.

So stay humble and listen more than you speak. Some of the most important lessons of your life will come from people you least expect.

Learning creates power.

Throughout my career, I have seen one pattern repeat again and again: Learning changes people's lives.

And nowhere is that more evident than in the education of girls.

Most recently, I ran an organization called Malala Fund, founded by girls' education activist Malala Yousafzai. Malala Fund works to ensure all adolescent girls can access and complete their education by funding and supporting education activists to fix broken systems around the world.

Study after study tells us the same thing: one of the greatest investments we can make in the future of our world is educating girls. When girls are educated, societies become safer. Families are healthier. Economies grow stronger. Innovation thrives. And communities become more resilient in the face of change and conflict.

But the value of educating girls goes beyond access to textbooks.

The gold standard is education that develops the whole person—education that teaches students how to ask questions. How to be humble. And that is what you experienced here at Westridge. An example of what education can and should be for every girl around the world.

We often hear the phrase "knowledge is power." It has become so familiar that it risks sounding cliché. But after spending my career working on this, I have come to believe something slightly different:

Learning creates power.

Knowledge matters. But it is the continued pursuit of learning that transforms lives. Especially for women and girls.

Learning creates the power to make informed decisions. The power to adapt. The power to imagine a future different from the present. And perhaps most importantly, the power to help others do the same.

Today, there are 122 million girls around the world who are out of school and do not have access to that power.

You do.

And there will be moments in your life when you forget just how powerful that is. Sometimes we all need a reminder. I'd like to share one I received recently.

Last year, I met a girl in a rural part of Tanzania. By coincidence, her name was also Lena. I promise her name is not what made her remarkable—her spirit is. Lena is thirteen years old and absolutely full of life.

When I met her, she spoke with enormous enthusiasm about her love of learning. Every day, she walks nearly three miles to school along a long and often dangerous road and then makes the journey home carrying liters of water she fills at the school fountain for her family.

She told me that despite the challenges in her life, school is her "hub of power"—the place where she discovers her potential, expands her world, and imagines the future she wants to create.

It is that sense of power that fills her with hope and inspires her dream of becoming a doctor. She knows she is one of the fortunate ones, and she considers the opportunity to learn a privilege worth every step.

What has stayed with me is her conviction that her future will be bigger than her circumstances. She has a hope that persists despite the obstacles in her path.

Since meeting her, I have thought often about her phrase: "hub of power."

Not hub of achievement. Not hub of success. Not hub of prestige. Hub of power.

Because she understands something many adults forget. Learning is not valuable because it guarantees a particular outcome. It is valuable because it expands what is possible.

Every person you meet. Every book you read. Every idea you encounter.

Expand your ability to navigate the world. To contribute. To lead. To shape what comes next.

And as I look out at all of you today, I see that same power. Not because your journeys have been identical to Lena's. But because you too have been given the tools to shape your future and the opportunity to make a difference in the world around you.

The hope that young woman carries because of the power she knows she holds despite the odds against her is the same hope I feel when I look at each of you today.

Use the power.

Now, I want to return to the conversations I had with some of you last month. Alongside the gratitude you expressed, there was another feeling. Fear. While you feel prepared academically for what comes next, you are nervous about the world beyond Westridge. And honestly, I understand it.

The world you are inheriting can feel overwhelming. Social progress is fragile. Conflict and genocide dominate headlines. Climate change presents enormous challenges. And artificial intelligence is transforming nearly every industry and raising questions none of us can fully answer yet.

It is natural to feel uncertain. But uncertainty is not something to fear. It is something to prepare for.

And your greatest defense against uncertainty is continuing to invest in your learning. To grow it. To nurture it. To expand it.

You expressed that you may never again find something quite as safe and supportive as what you experienced here.

And the truth is, you might not. You may never again find a community exactly like Westridge. But what you will find is other kinds of beauty and sources of learning. Beauty in friendships with people whose lives look nothing like your own. Beauty in unfamiliar ideas. Beauty in challenge.

You have just completed the first chapter of your journey. The next chapter is about to be even fuller.

Adulthood is not about recreating the comfort of the places that shaped you. It is about allowing those places—like Westridge—to give you the courage to step into spaces that will continue shaping you.

So, what do I hope you take with you today?

Stay curious. Because curiosity fuels learning.

Stay humble. Because humility sustains learning.

Keep listening. Because there is so much to hear from so many sources.

And never stop learning. Because learning grows your power.

To the parents and families here today: well done. Thank you for choosing your girls. For believing in them. For investing in them—not just financially, but emotionally, intellectually, and wholeheartedly. Everything you sacrificed and poured into them is among the very best investments you could have ever made.

And to the graduates: You did it. You made it to the first finish line.

Keep going. Keep learning.

Congratulations, Class of 2026!

The world’s future is much brighter because you are stepping into it.