Choose to live. Write the song. Do the thing that scares you: Reflections from a Marymount Alumna to the Class of 2026

By Inés Guzmán, Independent Non-Executive Director at one of Spain’s leading banks, where she chairs the Digital Transformation, Innovation and Technology Committee

“For sixty years, the world worked one way.

Humans wrote instructions. Computers followed them.

And now, a completely new chapter is beginning.

You are graduating at one of those rare moments in history when the future suddenly opens up in entirely new ways. There are only a handful of times when an entire generation steps into the world exactly as it is being reinvented.

This is one of them.

I cannot think of a more exciting moment to begin.

Good afternoon, everyone.

Mrs Giblin, distinguished faculty, proud families and above all the extraordinary Class of 2026.

My name is Inés Guzmán, and it is a real joy to be here today.

I studied here. Walked these corridors. And on graduation day, I left through that gate thinking: right, world – here I come.

There is one thing I should confess. I graduated from Marymount in only one year. I had completed all my credits ahead of schedule, so I left before my own class. It sounds impressive. But if I’m honest, there were moment were I wondered what I missed – that final senior year, the friendships that deepen in those last months, the feeling of crossing the finish line with the people you started with.

I was in such a hurry to get to the future that I didn’t fully live in the present.

So here’s my first piece of advice: don’t rush this moment. Enjoy today. Fully.

I left this school wanting to build things. And while still at university, I started a technology company. We had absolutely no idea how to start a company, raise money, or run it. I genuinely thought: how hard can it be?

It turns out… very hard.

Staying alive as a company was the hardest part. It was also one of the best things I’ve ever done. Because the sooner you become comfortable with failure, the further you go. And every failure teaches you humility.

I’ve spent my career in technology and business. I’ve lived and worked in different countries, launched mobile companies, and worked with submarine cables. Along the way, I’ve had the privilege of meeting extraordinary — from Steve Wozniak to Arianna Huffington — and of working with the best teams.

And I can tell you this: the people who thrive are the ones who lean in – not step back.

My career began at the start of the PC revolution. Yours begins at the start of the AI revolution. And I honestly cannot imagine a more exciting moment to enter the world. Artificial intelligence is transforming business, healthcare, science, creativity — almost every industry you can imagine. The world needs people who can think clearly, work across cultures, and stay steady in complexity.

That is you.

The IB didn’t just teach you subjects. It taught you how to think, how to question, how to stay curious. And that’s everything.

Choose to live. Write the song. Do the thing that scares you. Apply for the job you’re not ready for. Do it anyway.

Because the truth is… you are far more prepared for this world than you probably realise. And that brings me to something I only properly understood years after leaving Marymount: what this school was really giving us all along.

This place gave us the world before the world was one click away. It was unusually open, unusually curious. Through books, ideas and people, this school encouraged us to think bigger.

But perhaps the greatest thing Marymount gave us was each other. Lifelong friends. Decades later, I am still meeting those women. We still show up for each other. That is everything.

It also taught us something equally powerful: the importance of excellence.

Being recognised — through things like the National Honor Society — wasn’t just an achievement. It was a signal: maybe I can do more than I imagined.

For me, that mattered deeply. I didn’t grow up in an environment where academic ambition was openly celebrated. Here, it was. And that quiet shift built something powerful: the confidence to believe you can go out into the world and take it on.

And there was something else this school taught me. I grew up in Bilbao, in the north of Spain — home of Athletic Club, a football team famous for only signing local players.

Coming to Marymount was quite the adjustment.

This school taught me how powerful it is to live among different cultures and perspectives. Understanding people different from you is one of the most important skills you will ever have. And I truly believe the world needs more of that. This is the unique educational experience you carry with you for life.

But with time, you also learn something else. You learn that joy matters, achievement matters, ambition matters. But none of those things are the most important thing. Because eventually, life teaches you what really is.

Family.

In the years ahead, you will be busy — gloriously, chaotically busy. And it becomes easy to forget the people who matter most.

But when things go wrong — and they will — the people still there are your people. The ones who show up and love you without conditions.

So call them, visit them, thank them, love them. Not just today with flowers and photographs — but on an ordinary Tuesday, years from now.

Right now, look at the people who came here for you today. Take a proper look. And before the day ends, give them a very long hug.

Remember this moment.

And if I could leave you with one final thought… it would probably be this. The best advice I ever received did not come from a CEO, or a professor, or a business book.

It came from my grandmother — the absolute centre of gravity of a very large, very loud, very wonderful family.

She once told me: divide your energy carefully. A third into your work. A third into your people. A third into looking ahead at what’s coming. And always keep something just for yourself — for your happiness, for the things that make you, you.

You are graduating from a school that believes you are meant to do something meaningful — to lead, to contribute, and above all, to leave things better than you found them.

My family sat in this audience many years ago and believed that about me.

And today… I believe it about you.

No generation has entered the world with more powerful tools — or greater opportunities — than yours.

So be curious. Be stubbornly kind. Be gloriously ambitious. Hold on to your lifelong friends. Take care of your people.

And above all — choose to live.

Congratulations, Class of 2026.

You’re ready.

Off you go.”