A Special Message to the Class of 2026
Sage Johnson, GSSEM Gold Award Girl Scout 2024, Congratulates the Class of 2026
May 18, 2026
Good evening everyone,
To the graduating seniors, your families, your troop leaders, and the Girl Scouts of Southeastern Michigan community, thank you for this moment. Being here brings me back to what it feels like to be surrounded by people who have watched you grow, believed in you early on, and helped shape who you are becoming.
Tonight is an ending, but even more than that, it is a beginning.
When I think back to myself at the end of high school, I remember being excited, but also unsure. I was headed more than 1,000 miles away to Louisiana for college. I had plans to get involved, to do well, to figure it out as I went. But I did not really know what life there would feel like. I had confidence, but also doubts about whether I would actually thrive in a completely new place. And if I am honest, I was scared because everything felt unfamiliar.
What I learned pretty quickly is that growth does not come from having everything figured out. It comes from moving forward anyway, even when things are unclear, even when it is hard, and even when it is uncomfortable.
And in that process, you start to realize you are more capable than you thought. New environments have a way of testing that. There are moments when you wonder if you belong, if you are prepared enough, or if you are good enough. But those moments are not proof that you are out of place. They are usually proof that you are growing into it. You do not end up in those spaces by accident. You earn your place in them.
A big part of learning has also come from understanding people. The people around you shape so much more than you realize at the time. For me, my troop was one of the clearest examples of that. The relationships you build in spaces like that stay with you. They shape how you lead, how you show up, and how you see yourself.
That idea starts long before college, with your first village. The people who ground you, support you, and influence how you move through the world before you ever step into something new.
Then you leave that space and build another one. College becomes a new village. The people you meet there are figuring things out right alongside you. They become part of your everyday life, and they shape your habits, your mindset, and your direction more than you realize in the moment.
My mom used to say, “Birds of a feather flock together,” and over time you learn how true that really is. The people you choose will influence who you become. So be intentional. Invest in friendships that are real. Choose people who support you, challenge you, and align with where you are trying to go.
Girl Scouts is where a lot of that first took shape for me.
It was not just something I participated in. It shaped how I lead, how I think, and how I see service. Before I even had language for leadership, I was practicing it. Working in teams, taking initiative, speaking up, and learning how to serve others in ways that actually matter.
I remember when I was about 14 years old, I set a goal to sell 1,000 boxes of Girl Scout cookies. At the time, it felt huge. Honestly, it felt almost impossible. But what that experience taught me was not just how to sell cookies. It taught me persistence. It taught me how to talk to people, how to handle rejection, and how to keep going even when things felt uncomfortable.
Later in life, when I found myself applying to competitive programs, stepping into leadership roles, or pursuing opportunities that felt intimidating, I realized I had already practiced that mindset. I knew what it felt like to set a big goal, face challenges, and keep pushing forward anyway.
Service became one of the most meaningful parts of that experience. Not as a requirement, but as something I genuinely cared about. I started to understand that service looks different depending on the situation, but every version of it has value.
That is something I was able to carry into my Silver and Gold Award projects, especially as I connected it to my passion for medicine.
For my Silver Award, I created a website to support siblings of children with serious illnesses. They are often overlooked, even though they carry their own emotional weight. That project taught me to think more deeply about care and what it really means to support someone fully, not just the part that is most visible.
For my Gold Award, I created “Medical Minds of the Future,” a project focused on increasing diversity in medicine. I created educational videos and organized hands-on experiences for children from underrepresented backgrounds, working with medical professionals and community partners to bring them to life.
Those experiences changed how I understand medicine. They showed me that medicine is not only science. It is access. It is a representation. It is whether people feel seen when they walk into a space. And it helped me realize I do not just want to be in medicine. I want to help shape it.
Once I transitioned into college as a biology major on the pre-med track, those lessons started showing up everywhere. Group projects, leadership roles, and new environments all felt familiar in a way I did not expect. While others were learning how to collaborate for the first time, I had already practiced that. While others were figuring out leadership, I had already been in spaces that required it. And when things felt uncertain, I found myself more willing to try anyway.
That willingness has created opportunities I did not expect. It pushed me to apply for programs in community health outreach and research that once felt out of reach. Walking into those spaces was intimidating, but I learned to rely on what I had already built by showing up, taking responsibility, and staying engaged even when I was unsure.
And through all of that, another lesson kept showing up. Responsibility does not end when an experience ends. The mindset you build through service and leadership follows you. It becomes how you move through every space after.
Eventually, you also realize that no one is going to guide you step by step anymore. There are fewer instructions and more decisions. That shift can feel overwhelming, but it is also where you start to fully step into yourself.
In those moments, you lean on what has already been built. You remember the times you led something that did not go perfectly. The times you had to adjust, problem solve, and keep going. The times you showed up, even when it would have been easier not to. Those were not just experiences. They were preparing.
And not everything will go right the first time. Some things will fall short. Some opportunities will not work out. That does not define you. What defines you is how you respond when that happens.
Growth is rarely clean. It is usually messy. It looks like trying, learning, adjusting, and trying again.
You are also allowed to change. You are allowed to grow out of things you once thought you wanted. You are allowed to become someone different over time. That is not failure. That is development.
As you move forward, what matters is not leaving everything behind, but carrying what grounded you here. The values you learned through Girl Scouts are not tied to a moment in time. They are tools you take with you. Leadership, service, resilience, and the ability to care about something beyond yourself all continue to matter in every space you enter.
And impact does not have to be large to be real.
Sometimes it is one conversation. Sometimes it is one decision to speak up. Sometimes it is simply choosing to show up for someone else. Those moments matter more than they seem.
You are stepping into a world that needs your voice, your perspective, and your leadership.
There will be pressure to follow a certain path or meet certain expectations. But you do not have to rush to define everything right now. Your path will take shape over time, and it does not have to look like anyone else’s.
When you think back on your Girl Scout experience, the moments that stand out most are probably not just the achievements. They are the growth, the challenges, the people, and the small moments that shaped you in ways you did not fully see at the time. Those moments are still shaping you now.
And who you are becoming is someone capable of more than you can fully measure yet.
Your story matters. Where you come from, what you have learned, and how you have grown all carry weight. And that story is still being written.
Hold onto your confidence, even when it is tested. Hold onto your curiosity, even when things feel uncertain. And hold onto the belief that you are capable of building something meaningful for yourself and for others.
To the graduating seniors, this is your moment. Take it in, be proud of how far you have come, and move forward with courage into what comes next.
Congratulations, and thank you.
