As America prepares to celebrate its 250th birthday, it’s tempting to focus only on the milestones: from the ratification of the Constitution, to the abolition of slavery, to the suffrage movement, to the moon landing, to the civil rights victories that expanded the promise of democracy to more of its people. But anniversaries invite something deeper than celebration. They invite reflection. Reflection on what it has taken, and what it has cost, to build a resilient nation over 250 years.
Two hundred and fifty years ago, our nation’s founders dared to imagine a country that had never existed before. Their vision was imperfect. The ideals articulated in our founding documents often exceeded our collective ability to live up to them. And yet what has distinguished America throughout its history is not an absence of hardship. It is our willingness to demand something greater of ourselves, generation after generation. That willingness is the root of American resilience.
I also know that not everyone approaches this anniversary with unbridled optimism. And that is okay. You can care deeply about this country and still hold its history honestly. Progress here has never been a given, and our country’s story has never moved in a straight line. Communities have had to fight for their place in it. And with every generation, we the people get to decide whether to build on the promises of our country or to let them erode. The lesson is not that we have always gotten it right. History makes clear we have not. The lesson is that our greatest moments have come when vision exceeded fear, when courage overcame cynicism, and when ordinary people committed to doing extraordinary things. That honesty does not diminish this milestone. It is what makes it worth celebrating.
Resilience, not ease, has been the defining feature of our national story. Not as mere survival, but as a practice. As the willingness to endure, to learn, and to build something greater on the other side.
One of the most enduring vehicles for that resilience has been higher education. Long before independence was declared, colleges were being established on American soil with an audacious belief: that investing in human potential would shape the future of democracy itself. The American experiment and higher education grew up together. The ideas incubated in lecture halls, libraries, and laboratories, from scientific breakthroughs to social movements to economic innovation, have fueled the progress of this republic and continue to make an outsize impact today. The pursuit of a more perfect union has always been inseparable from the pursuit of knowledge, and the institutions that have carried that knowledge forward have helped make this country what it is.
As CEO of TIAA, that history resonates deeply with me. TIAA was founded in 1918 to serve the educators, researchers, and healthcare workers who dedicate their lives to others, and that mission has kept us anchored for 108 years through wars, recessions, and periods of profound national uncertainty, giving me a front-row seat to what these institutions look like at their best. At a time when trust in institutions has declined, America’s 250th offers an invitation to remember what enduring institutions have made possible. The first colleges on American soil were founded before independence was declared. Their survival and evolution across 250 years of war, economic crisis, and social upheaval is itself a testament to resilience.
I was reminded of this recently when I gathered with 250 of our higher education institutional clients in Arizona, some of them stewards of institutions founded even before this country was. Leadership is not simply about navigating when things are going well. It is about how you show up when things are more challenging, anchored in the knowledge that the impact on the other side is worth it. Even as they navigate real pressures today, including federal funding uncertainty, shifting student demographics, and the rapid rise of artificial intelligence, they continue doing what they have always done: investing in human potential and expanding access to opportunity. That is what institutions look like at their best. And it is worth remembering, and protecting.
When I think about what resilience looks like up close, I think about my own family. My parents grew up under segregation, and yet they told me to reach for the moon, because even if I missed, I would land among the stars. That is not a contradiction. That is the very definition of resilience. My mother anchored us in faith and taught us that whatever you do, you do with excellence. I carry those lessons into every hard moment I face. When my brother passed away suddenly, when I was navigating a company through a pandemic, when grief and the weight of leadership collided, it was that foundation in faith, family, and clarity of purpose that kept me standing, so that I could move forward stronger.
Resilience is not simply bouncing back. It is moving forward carrying the weight of experience and the wisdom of hard-won lessons. It is what educators do every day when they invest in students whose potential they may never witness fully bloom. It is what parents do when they pass down values that outlast them. And it is what leaders must do, in every era, in every organization, in every generation.
When I reflect on what 250 years means, as an American, as a leader, and as a mother, I keep coming back to this: the future is always in front of us. It will always require resilience to reach it. And it will always be up to all of us, not some of us, to do the work. Everyone plays a role. Progress is never handed down. It is built, together, one generation at a time.
As America marks its 250th, my hope is that we honor this milestone honestly. Not by papering over what has been painful, but by holding the full complexity of this country’s story with both honesty and love. That we embrace the shared responsibility that self-governance demands of us. And that we build a future worthy of those who will inherit it.
The work of building resilience, not just to survive but to truly thrive, in our institutions, in our communities, in our families, and in ourselves, is as American as the anniversary we are about to celebrate.