Every June, there is a moment at Frost Amphitheater that falls short of the highlight reel. Just before the ceremony starts, families are waiting in line at the general admission area, graduates are filing through the Grove Gate, and Lasuen Street’s oak trees are illuminated by the morning California light. No one is taking pictures of it. However, those who have been there will tell you that it lasts longer than the diploma.
This year’s Baccalaureate celebration at Stanford, which takes place on June 13, is one of those occasions that, while ceremonial on paper, feels different in person. The university refers to it as a bookend to the Opening Convocation that welcomed these same students four years ago. It is officially defined as a multifaith event for graduating seniors, graduate students, and professional students. That framing is true. In addition, it’s a bit chilly for what takes place inside that amphitheater.
Lerone A. Martin, a Stanford professor, writer, and director of the Martin Luther King Jr. Institute, is this year’s keynote speaker. It’s not a subtle decision; it’s a conscious one. In a room full of emotionally charged people—graduates sitting with four years of memories, families watching children who have somehow grown up—Martin adds a particular kind of moral weight. It’s difficult to predict in advance whether his comments will be consoling or piercing. However, it seems that the selection committee wasn’t just searching for someone to celebrate. They were looking for a challenge.
This year’s student speaker is Lamya Butt, an economics major with a number of leadership positions on campus. At Baccalaureate, student speakers are typically the ones who express their emotions aloud; they are the ones who take the stage and manage to convey ideas that the audience as a whole was unable to fully express. In previous years, students have drawn from spiritual traditions they had quietly carried for four years, as well as spoken word artists and reflective essayists. However, it seems appropriate for Butt to take on that role, which raises subtle concerns about what economics majors actually learn outside of the models.
This year’s logistics have a peculiar footnote. The same Saturday is set aside for a FIFA World Cup match in the Bay Area, which could result in truly chaotic traffic on regional highways. The Stanford website is already encouraging visitors to depart early. One of the biggest athletic events in the world and one of the most subdued customs in higher education collide in an odd way. The Frost Amphitheater has a limited capacity, and admission is still first-come, first-served. Overflow overflows into the adjacent Bing Concert Hall, where a livestream is broadcast. Though something is unavoidably lost in translation between watching on a screen and sitting outside, it’s a workable solution.
The scale and tone of Baccalaureate are what really set it apart from the main Commencement ceremony, which is held the next day with thousands more people. It is not as big. more personal. openly interfaith without being overtly religious. The 2025 speakers, Alexander Nemerov and student Noah Hao-Lin Tan, discussed finding wisdom in place and moment. Based on how widely their comments circulated afterward, it was evident that this theme struck a chord.
There’s a sense that Stanford has figured something out as you watch this specific tradition change over time. Everywhere, graduation ceremonies run the risk of turning into spectacles. Baccalaureate opposes that. This year’s version may still be overshadowed by logistical difficulties or traffic chaos. However, if previous years are any guide, people who are seated at Frost Amphitheater at 10 a.m., with the sun already warming the stone seats, will leave feeling that the early alarm was worthwhile.
