Jennifer Cronenberg, Interim CEO

Do you remember the last time you graduated? Maybe you were at the top of your class, proudly wearing your special stoles or cords, or maybe you just barely eked your way through and were secretly hoping no one was going to realize they had made a mistake before you had a diploma in hand. Either way, you graduated.

In a way, graduations are the ultimate equalizer. Yes, you may have had differences during school. Yes, some of you may have had an easier path, better grades, more friends. But on graduation day, for at least a moment, none of that really matters. You all reached the same finish line, and you’re all crossing it together. Everyone cheers for everyone else. There’s a moment of beautiful unity.

Last night, at my 5-year-old’s pre-K graduation, as a slideshow rolled showing each kid with their baby picture, all of the other kids shouted out the kid-on-screen’s name and cheered and giggled with delight. To be clear, not all of these kids like each other on the daily. Just last week my kid told me that all of the girls in his class are his mortal enemies. But on graduation day, there he was, cheering proudly for his “enemies.” They were unified by their collective accomplishment.

The trouble is, after a certain point, we don’t have graduations anymore. We don’t have any moments where, despite our different paths, we take a moment to celebrate the amazing feat that is reaching the same finish line together. And I know that once you’re a real grown-up out here in the working world, the work continues year-round – there isn’t a clear finish line – but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pause and collectively celebrate one another.

That pre-K graduation I mentioned? It’s a year-round school. This morning, those new “graduates” woke up, got dressed, and went back to the very same classroom that they just graduated from. But do you know what my kid said to me this morning, with pride in his voice, as he got ready to return to that very same classroom? “I can’t believe I graduated last night! We did it!” He was taking a moment to relish how far he had come (even as he was getting ready to go back and do more of the same). You, and your colleagues, deserve this moment of pride and reflection too.

This work is hard. It can be maddening and frustrating and devastating all in the same day. But the work we do matters. We matter – to our clients, to our colleagues, and to this entire disability adjudication process. And we deserve a collective moment of recognition and celebration. That’s what I hope NOSSCR can be for all of you – a place where we can celebrate together as a team. It may not be a finish line, per se – the work continues, the phone is still ringing, the outdated jobs are still getting listed – but that doesn’t mean your work and your path isn’t celebration worthy.

Is this a long-winded way of encouraging you to come to our conferences? Maybe. Most things I say eventually circle back to that. But not just because of the CLEs or the networking receptions. I encourage you to come because this work can feel isolating, and it’s easy to forget that there are thousands of other people out there carrying the same frustrations, the same responsibilities, and the same commitment to helping claimants through an incredibly difficult system.

Our conferences are among the rare moments when we all get to pause together. To swap stories with people who truly understand this work. To celebrate victories that no one outside this field can fully appreciate. To reconnect with the reason we keep doing it, even on the hardest days. There may not be a true finish line in this profession, but there is something meaningful about looking around a room and realizing you’re not running the race alone.

So, in the spirit of graduation, my takeaway is this: take a moment and appreciate how far you’ve come. Cheer for the guy next to you and how far he’s come. Consider joining us for our next conference so that we can celebrate with you in person. While you may be past your season of caps and gowns, it’s never too late to pause and admire all that you’ve accomplished this year – the people you’ve helped, the folks you’ve employed, the connections you’ve made, the new skills you’ve acquired. You’re doing great work, and we’re proud of you. Now…keep going.

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