Americans United President and CEO Rachel Laser was invited to give a baccalaureate address to graduating seniors at Lehigh University in Bethlehem, Pa., May 18. She stressed the importance of living authentically and helping others do the same, noting that these concepts are protected by the separation of church and state. The text of her remarks follows.

When The Rev. Dr. Lloyd Steffen asked me to deliver the baccalaureate address for your graduation, I was deeply honored.
It’s exciting and humbling to participate in your graduation weekend and to help celebrate such a meaningful accomplishment in your and your families’ lives. I said yes immediately.
But pretty quickly after that, things went seriously downhill.
It’s one thing to accept the invitation, but it’s a whole other matter to write the speech. As the President and CEO of Americans United for Separation of Church and State, I write all the time — a monthly column in our magazine, a weekly email to our members. In recent years, I’ve written op-eds for The Washington Post and The New York Times.
But I’ve also always struggled with writing. As a kid, I thought I was a terrible writer. As an adult, I often wonder whether my writing will be compelling to others.
For this speech, my writing anxiety was on steroids: This is such a special time for you all. I have a unique opportunity to convey a message from my years of life experience. I have three Gen Z kids of my own whom I really don’t want to embarrass!
I have given many talks throughout my career, but they’re generally to audiences of like-minded progressives. Or sometimes I speak to conservative audiences who want to hear a progressive perspective.
But this audience, presumably, has folks from all across the political and ideological spectrum. You’re also from many generations, different socioeconomic backgrounds, you’re multi-racial and I would presume you hold a variety of different religious and nonreligious beliefs.
You probably have expansive areas where you would agree with each other but also plenty of areas where you would profoundly disagree.
And what about my own differences from many of you, the power dynamics of our differences and the ways my identities can make me insensitive to your experiences?
How could insights from my own life possibly reach across this sea of people and touch each and every one of you?
My breakthrough happened on a Saturday night in early March. I called my sister, who is 17 years younger than me, much cooler than me and a published author and writer. I was miserable. I told her that I had just spent the afternoon striking out for the third time trying to write this speech. What I had was boring and didn’t sound like me. I was stuck.
She was filled with empathy. “Why do you think so many writers are so unhappy” she half joked. She told me how hard writing is for everyone, but had unwavering confidence that I’d get where I needed to be. Her suggestion: Go back to my computer and write about all the ways I was struggling to write this speech.
I share this story with you all not simply to complain about the writing process, and not just because I’m sure all of you — with all-nighters in Fairchild Mart and dozens of college papers behind you — can relate. But because this struggle illuminated what I wanted to say: That asking for help is brave and being yourself, even when it means being someone who is struggling or different from those around you, is essential — for our individual successes and for our collective one.
So here it goes. Here are some insights that emerged from the struggle of writing this speech.
They reflect my best wisdom to impart to you about how to ensure that you, and all of us, live life to its fullest, and that our country continues to thrive at this delicate moment in our history.
My first piece of advice is: Ask for help.
In America, there’s a whole ethos about “rugged individualism” and “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps.”

Rachel Laser to give Lehigh’s baccalaureate speech
But when you’re stuck or struggling, being vulnerable enough to ask for help is a great way to solve problems and feel better. We all have different perspectives, skills and talents, so asking for help from someone with strengths in the space where you’re stuck can bring you valuable information and insight.
My sister is a poet. Jessica Laser — google her. She’s a fantastic writer. And she teaches writing. Given her unique skills and talents, she realized that my struggle to write this speech was a possible way into writing it.
Jess’s advice helped me better understand what I wanted to say to you. In my life, asking for help has been critical to discovering who I am and expressing myself.
Here’s another thing about asking for help — people generally love to help other people. It feels good to help someone. It feels good to know that you have something to offer.
And it connects you to someone else. You witness their humanity. You get to be part of their world, to be part of a shared endeavor.
I texted my sister the day after my breakthrough to let her know that thanks to her help, I had finally gotten somewhere.
Her response was: “It was SO sweet that you called to talk about your piece and I’m so glad you found a way in — SIX EXCLAMATION POINTS. SIX!!!!!
I was happy; she was happy! It was great for both of us.
It’s not always easy to know where to go for help. I didn’t think of calling my sister until I was pretty panicked, even though in retrospect she was an obvious choice. But you can ask for help with that, too. Friends can help you figure out what type of help you need. So can colleagues, professors, therapists and religious leaders.
Here is one last crucial point: You may think that asking for help is a sign of weakness because you’re admitting that you’re struggling and can’t get past it on your own, but it’s really a sign of strength.
Asking for help shows that you are strong enough to admit that you are human and need other people.
So: Push yourself to ask for more help than you naturally would. And offer your help to your friends when you see them struggling.
My second piece of advice is: Be authentically yourself.
Because, if you want to bring your very best self to your community, your country, your world and your planet in this very short life, your best bet is to be true to yourself.
Here’s a real life example of what I am talking about.
When I was applying to be the head of Americans United, Rev. Barry Lynn had just retired from over 25 years of being its beloved leader.
Barry and I are very different people. He is a male, Christian pastor from an older generation, who also happens to love to do stand-up comedy. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been as caught off guard as I was when, during my final interview for the job, one of the organization’s trustees asked me to tell a joke. What a nightmare. I’m just not funny — unless it’s accidental.
In a panic, I told some pathetic joke about the chicken crossing the road, but I’m proud that I then made myself say that I would be a different leader than Barry was. I remember feeling calm and grounded as I explained that I couldn’t be Rev. Barry Lynn even if I tried. That I would be the best version of Rachel Laser that I could be.
Among other things, I am Americans United’s first female and non-Christian leader in its 76-year existence. And by the way — while I’m not funny, male or a member of the clergy, I’m self-aware, able to talk about complex things and brave — all qualities I would bring to my leadership of AU. I think the AU Board of Trustees saw who I was that day.
I’ve learned over the years that being authentic is not only the best way to bring your greatest contribution; it’s also a powerful way to connect with people.
Here’s another story. After law school, I took a job at a law firm, didn’t love it, then clerked for a great federal district court judge, but didn’t love that job either, and then went to another law firm, which I also didn’t love. I was following a well-charted, prestigious and lucrative path — one that works for many people, including my amazing husband and my own twin brother. But not for me. Practicing corporate law didn’t excite me or use my best skills. I just wasn’t into it, and, as a result, my work was failing to meet my own standards.
I remember well the day I mustered the courage to walk into the office of the law firm’s managing partner and tell him that I was leaving. I explained that my real passion was advocating for reproductive freedom, and shared that I had accepted a job serving as general counsel for Planned Parenthood Metropolitan Washington. As soon as I spoke my truth, my nervousness dissolved into that same feeling of calmness and groundedness that I described having in my job interview — a feeling I have come to listen to as an indicator that I am acting in alignment with my true self.
At the time, I didn’t know how the managing partner would take my news, especially since I was confessing that big law, which he had spent his career practicing, wasn’t for me. But it went great. He was genuinely happy for me and shared that his sister had similar interests and was chair of a college women’s studies department. He also offered the law firm’s free help in my next job — which I took him up on soon thereafter. During that exchange, the managing partner and I connected with each other in a way we never had before.
Here’s a theory as to why being authentic connects you to others. When you’re authentic, you’re putting yourself out there. You’re making yourself vulnerable. And when you’re vulnerable, others connect to that strongly. Because it’s a shared human experience. People relate to it. They admire your courage. They get inspired to be authentic too.
Being authentic even works to forge connections when your differences from others feel stark and irreconcilable.
I have one last story to share on this point. One day back in 2005, shortly after I had just started a new job working at a think tank called Third Way, my boss walked into my office all excited to tell me about a new idea. Evangelical Christians and progressives had been able to find shared values on some issues, like caring for the environment, he noted. My assignment was to find common ground on abortion.
My stomach hurt. I had just spent years of my career on the front lines of abortion policy and judicial nominations battles at the National Women’s Law Center. How could I find common ground with the folks who were opposite me in every fight?
Little did I know that our project, which we called “Come Let Us Reason Together,” would inspire the first-of-its-kind pro-life, pro-choice abortion bill in Congress. We were able to find common ground on the idea of reducing the need for abortion while leaving intact the right to have one.
When I reflect back on the success of the project, one of the key factors that comes to mind was the authenticity of every member of the group.
As the project leader, I tried to model that from day one. I remember first meeting one of our group, Pastor Joel Hunter, and his wife Becky at the Legal Seafood restaurant then located at Reagan National Airport. It was our first meeting after I had sent a “cold” email to Pastor Hunter to see if he would be interested in joining the project. He had answered that we could meet to discuss it during his upcoming layover in D.C.
When we met up that evening, I remember thinking how different Pastor Hunter and I were. He was a megachurch pastor in Florida, and more than 20 years older than me, who had recently been the president-elect of the Christian Coalition — a job he had ultimately turned down because the organization wouldn’t let him expand its agenda beyond opposing abortion and marriage equality. I, by contrast, was Jewish, pro-choice, pro-marriage equality and grew up with hippie parents who were immersed in the civil rights movement.
At my dinner with Pastor Hunter, instead of hiding our differences, I highlighted them as the reason it was so meaningful to try to lessen the hostility between our communities and find shared values. I will never forget the silence as I paused to hear if Pastor Hunter was interested. My fish was getting cold, but I couldn’t eat. Pastor Hunter said yes — he wanted to participate, assuming Third Way’s website checked out for him, which it ended up doing.
Each new participant came to our shared table with their defenses down. We owned our differences, and dared to sit down with the “other side,” letting go of stereotypes and taking heat from leaders in our own communities for doing so. “Come Let Us Reason Together” thrived because of the authenticity and vulnerability of the individuals who participated. It created an atmosphere of mutual respect, active listening, empathy and ultimately unity.
We accomplished what many people thought was impossible. We made lasting friendships with people from dramatically different religious and ideological backgrounds. The project turned out to be one of the highlights of my career so far.
The lesson I hope you will take from these stories is to bring your authentic, vulnerable self as you move through your life and career. Don’t hide who you are. It risks making you and your work lifeless, uninspired, and less effective. Take the opposite approach. Embrace who you are.
My breakthrough in writing this speech was realizing that my best chance of connecting with you stemmed from making myself vulnerable and being myself. That the path to conveying something meaningful was telling you about my struggles and trusting in the value of what I am sharing today. I owned that my authentic self is my best self. And YOU need to own it, too, to revel in your own unique beautiful combination of life experiences, struggles, identities and talents. Seek to be the best version of YOU.
Some of you may be thinking: But I don’t KNOW who I am. That’s fair. You’re multifaceted; there isn’t just one you. And who you are is constantly evolving. Own that, too. Authenticity is not the same as certainty.
It takes work and time to know yourself. And there are, of course, practical considerations to being yourself. It’s not always possible to leave your job as quickly as you might want to, or to find a way to pay your loans and still devote as much of your time as you would like to your passions. Being yourself is a challenge. So be authentic about that, too.
But, I urge you to do your very best to figure out how to live your life in a way that honors who you are and shares it with others.
A world of authentic people is a more flourishing and connected world. And I think we would all agree that given the colossal divides and challenges we face today, here at home and across the globe, we need to find ways to come together.
My third and final piece of advice is short and simple: Help others be themselves.
There are many ways to do this, and I’ve already talked about a few of them. You can reach out to your friends and offer to help them figure themselves out when they’re stuck. You can make recommendations about who else might help them get in touch with themselves. You can model being authentic and vulnerable, which inspires others to do the same.
But our country also has to be a place where people are able, legally and safely, to be themselves. We have a lot of work to do to make this a reality.
Some of you may already be considering dedicating your career to working for a more inclusive America. Maybe you’re thinking about working for a member of your state or federal legislature who promotes these values. Maybe you’re considering running for office yourself some day. Or maybe you plan to work at a nonprofit advocacy group. That’s been my approach. The reason I’m proud to lead Americans United for Separation of Church and State is because this separation allows people of all religious beliefs, the nonreligious, and all of us who do not pass one religion’s litmus test to be ourselves, no matter our religion, race, sex, sexual orientation or gender identity.
Obviously, advocacy and political jobs are not for everyone. If they aren’t authentically you, I hope you know what I’m about to say — don’t do them!
But here are some things we can all do: We can all work hard to ensure that every community we’re part of — whether it’s our friend group, our workplace or our house of worship — is inclusive and welcoming for all. We can all volunteer for or support the candidates we admire. And we can all vote. Voting is one of the most powerful ways we can express our authentic selves.
Tomorrow, many of you will complete four years of building this incredible, diverse community; four years of debating each other and your professors; four years of learning and living alongside people who are different from you; four years of coming into yourselves.
Think about what a privilege it is to be part of such a thriving community. What a privilege it is to be able to all sit together in this chapel today across our many differences and share this experience. Communities that invite everyone to be their authentic selves are communities that thrive.
My hope is that as you launch into the next phase of your lives, along with your deserved pride, you take with you a commitment to be vulnerable, to be authentic, and to champion everyone’s right to be the same. Because the quality of your lives and the future of our country will be better for it.
Congratulations, Lehigh Class of 2024!