When Harvard University celebrates its commencement each May, it isn't just a ritual of diplomas, robes, and eloquent orations. For many, it's the culmination of years of quiet sacrifices, late-night study sessions, and personal ambition colliding with academic tradition. But this year, in a shift that says as much about the evolution of higher education as it does about the institution itself, the broadcast spotlight will shine not only on historic Tercentenary Theater but on the emerging faces of online scholarship — individuals who, until recently, might never have had the opportunity to stand beneath Harvard’s famed gates.
At the heart of this year’s celebration is Alexis Redding, a senior lecturer at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, who will serve as the sole commentator during the university-wide commencement broadcast. It’s a role that carries symbolic and practical weight, especially given the exclusivity of in-person attendance. The limited seating in Harvard Yard means that thousands of families, friends, and supporters — from Boston’s suburbs to distant corners of the globe — rely on the broadcast for their only glimpse into the institution’s most cherished traditions. Redding’s task isn’t simply to narrate. It’s to make the invisible visible, to give digital attendees a genuine sense of presence and belonging 🌍.
Redding’s voice will guide viewers through the pageantry, but more importantly, through stories — of graduates who navigated war zones, parenting challenges, and full-time careers while pursuing a degree from one of the world’s most elite universities. These aren't just touching anecdotes; they're illustrative of the changing demographics of elite education and the expanding vision of what it means to be a Harvard student in 2024.
One such story belongs to Adam Milano, a behavioral health officer in the U.S. Army who joined Harvard’s new Online Master’s in Education program. Unlike traditional students who can stroll Harvard Square on a crisp autumn morning, Milano Zoomed into his classes from military bases. His reality included camouflage uniforms, early morning drills, and an unyielding dedication to both country and classroom. His enrollment in the program wasn’t simply an academic pursuit — it was a calculated, courageous investment in education leadership, one that carried the weight of personal ambition and professional transformation.
Then there’s Kamal James from North Carolina, a father juggling a full-time job, coursework, and parenting duties. Harvard’s hybrid platform meant that sometimes he joined advising meetings from the front seat of his car, waiting for his daughter to finish ballet class. Other times, his toddler’s voice echoed in the background as he presented on equity in school systems. It wasn’t picture-perfect, but it was real — a reflection of the messy, beautiful balance many modern learners must master. These real-life scenarios, once considered outliers in higher education, are fast becoming the new norm thanks to innovations in virtual learning platforms and the growing recognition that intellectual rigor doesn’t require geographic proximity.
The Online Master’s in Education at Harvard is more than a logistical adjustment — it’s a profound shift in how elite institutions define access. With rising Harvard tuition and the burden of graduate student loans, particularly for mid-career professionals or those supporting families, remote learning has become not just convenient but essential. And yet, the prestige remains. There’s still a palpable sense of awe in the phrase “I’m earning my master’s at Harvard,” whether it’s spoken in a Cambridge lecture hall or whispered on a Bluetooth headset in a parked car.
Redding, who has devoted much of her academic research to the student experience across Harvard and Radcliffe Colleges since 1940, brings an unusually rich perspective to this year’s broadcast. Her insight stretches beyond ceremony and toward substance. She understands the historical weight of this moment — not just because Harvard is nearly 400 years old, but because this year’s cohort represents a convergence of tradition and transformation. In planning her commentary, she visited Pusey Library to curate archival artifacts, including W.E.B. Du Bois’ original dissertation and 19th-century daguerreotypes that functioned as the university’s first unofficial yearbook. These delicate objects, too fragile to leave the vault, hold echoes of past commencements — reminders that while the form may shift, the essence of scholarship endures 📚.
Redding’s own experience on live broadcast, including her impromptu commentary during Claudine Gay’s inauguration, prepared her for the gravity of commencement. But this time, with more preparation and intentionality, she’s shaping a narrative that celebrates not only Harvard’s legacy but its growing inclusivity. It’s not about breaking with tradition; it’s about evolving the lens through which tradition is viewed. Her hope is that families watching from afar — be it from a studio apartment in Chicago or a military base in Kuwait — will feel just as connected to the ceremony as those seated in Harvard Yard.
Also stepping into the broadcast spotlight are HGSE alumni who now serve in key university roles. Alysha Johnson Williams, a 2020 graduate, now guides first-year students at Harvard College, while Anabella Morabito, class of 2022, works on equity and inclusion initiatives across the university. Their professional presence within Harvard’s infrastructure is more than a postscript — it’s proof that the Ed School’s influence extends far beyond its own brick walls. These women are reshaping student support systems, designing inclusive community models, and contributing to an Ivy League education that reflects contemporary values as much as academic excellence.
In a university often associated with privilege and exclusivity, these stories reflect a quiet revolution. Education technology, online master’s programs, and remote accessibility have begun to shift the center of gravity in higher education. And it’s not just about convenience — it’s about who gets to dream, who gets to apply, who gets to attend. In an age where digital transformation is redefining industries from healthcare to finance, it’s fitting that higher education — especially at the Ivy League level — is also undergoing its own metamorphosis.
Families who once might have believed that a Harvard education was out of reach are now watching their loved ones graduate in real-time from laptop screens, sometimes with tears in their eyes, sometimes with children on their laps. They’re witnessing the fruit of years of labor — nights spent writing policy papers after bedtime stories, weekends sacrificed to online group projects, financial planning around tuition payments and education grants.
The broadcast also offers a rare opportunity to explore how Harvard positions itself in a complex sociopolitical moment. The past academic year has been anything but smooth for American universities. Debates around diversity in admissions, rising student loan debt, faculty labor disputes, and campus protests have dominated headlines. As Redding has acknowledged, there’s a delicate balance between celebration and self-awareness. Commencement must be joyful, but not blind. It must honor accomplishment while acknowledging the challenges that persist — for students, faculty, and the institution itself.
And yet, despite those complexities, the joy remains. The thrill of being admitted. The first virtual class with strangers who quickly become academic siblings. The night before a final paper is due, heart pounding, fingers typing furiously. The simple, overwhelming moment of hearing one’s name read aloud — not just a name, but a story of persistence and vision.
For Redding and her team, it’s not about crafting a perfect broadcast. It’s about truth. Truth in the messy details of graduate life. Truth in the fierce resolve of nontraditional students. Truth in the idea that excellence is not a fixed location, but a fluid pursuit, open to anyone with the intellect, passion, and support system to chase it.
From a production standpoint, the decision to streamline the commentary team to just one voice reflects a new ethos — less scripted, more intimate. Redding’s hope is that this creates space for deeper stories, fuller conversations, and a more diverse chorus of voices from across the university. Not just professors and deans, but students, parents, and behind-the-scenes staff who make the university run every day.
This emphasis on storytelling — authentic, grounded, sometimes imperfect — is perhaps what makes this year’s commencement so timely. In an era where artificial intelligence, machine learning, and automation dominate discourse, the value of human connection stands out all the more. It’s easy to forget, amid tuition calculators and graduate school rankings, that education is ultimately about people: their ideas, their journeys, their shared humanity.
One could argue that the real commencement doesn’t happen in the Yard or on a stage, but in the quiet realizations that come during a broadcast viewed at home. A child sees her father, who studied late at night after working a ten-hour shift, receive his diploma. A grandmother in California watches her granddaughter’s dream come true, even though she couldn’t travel for health reasons. An Army base cheers as one of their own becomes a Harvard graduate. These moments don’t show up in official transcripts, but they are etched into the memory of what higher education can — and should — be 💡.
Harvard, for all its ceremony and structure, is a living institution. And this year, as Alexis Redding offers her commentary beneath the shadows of Widener Library and the echoes of centuries past, she will be speaking to a new generation of learners, leaders, and loved ones who have joined the community not through privilege, but perseverance. The camera may pan across Gothic spires and crimson robes, but the heartbeat of the day will lie elsewhere — in kitchen tables turned into study desks, in late-night FaceTime study groups, in the unwavering belief that education at the highest level must also be the most inclusive.
And so the broadcast becomes more than a stream. It becomes a bridge — from the ivory towers of Cambridge to living rooms around the world, from tradition to transformation, from Harvard’s storied past to its unfolding future.