Practice kindness, bring meaning into the ordinary, and carry gratitude wherever we go

Read the valedictory address of Dr Nadine Chua Lim during the 2025 Ateneo School of Medicine and Public Health Commencement on Saturday, 30 August 2025. 

Today, I stand before you one last time, grateful for the joy of serving, learning from, and growing alongside all of you these past five years.

Five years, they really did fly by—the days were long, but the years were so short. Today, I hope we can stop for a moment and celebrate how far we’ve come, together.

And as I thank all who brought us here—our mentors, families, and patients—I want to thank my mom most of all. She taught me that success isn’t measured by titles and awards, but by hard work, perseverance, and kindness. Everything I am is because of her.

On my last day as an intern, I found myself wishing I could slow down time—seeing friends in the hallway, exchanging tired smiles, hearing someone ask, “Kumain ka na ba?” and our usual response, “May meal stubs pa ba?” These little things are what I will miss most. Through good days and impossible ones, we showed up for each other. That, I believe, is what has made this journey meaningful. And to each of you, my dearest batch mates—thank you for giving me the privilege of knowing you, serving alongside you, and being a part of this journey together.

We live in a world that loves to measure things—exam scores, grading sheets, hours left on duty, even how much pain a patient feels on a scale of 1 to 10. We measure because it’s simple, but numbers can only go so far. They never capture the whole story.

So I’ve asked myself: How do you measure a good doctor?

Medicine will always demand knowledge, skill, and precision. But what will set us apart are the things that cannot be reduced to numbers—the kindness we practice, the meaning we give our actions, and the gratitude that grounds us.

These, I hope, will also be our measures of success.

What makes us worthy of trust? For me, it is kindness.

Kindness isn’t one grand gesture—it’s the daily choice to show up. To push a stretcher. To listen when someone needs to vent. To encourage a junior, or thank a mentor. When we lead with kindness, people open up—and the weight is no longer theirs alone. It’s how the room feels lighter, even if nothing else has changed.

And it is through these acts of kindness—to our patients, to one another, and to everyone we meet in our training—that we grow into the very things our alma mater has called us to be: clinicians with dignity, leaders with compassion, and catalysts with empathy.

I hope that kindness will be one of the measures of our success. Because just as progress is built on steady steps rather than sudden leaps, so too is kindness. Not in rare, extraordinary gestures, but in continuous, ordinary acts we choose each day—the patience to listen, the willingness to help, and the courage to care.

What gives our work meaning? We do.

We create meaning when we kneel to a child’s level to examine them. When we sit with a family to answer their questions, even if we’re exhausted. When we hold a hand in silence because there are no more words left. When we check on each other after long duties. When we stay a little longer, because someone needs us.

Too often we chase the next stage and forget: now is the best time to make a difference.

I hope that this meaning we put into our daily lives will also be one of the measures of our success. Because purpose isn’t stitched into our coats or printed on a diploma—it lives in how we choose to show up, in the small decisions that shape each day.

What keeps us grounded? Gratitude, because it reminds us we never walk alone.

Gratitude is often mistaken for politeness—a quick “thank you” at the end of an email, a reflexive nod of courtesy. But gratitude is never small; it is one of the most powerful forces we can carry into our lives.

Gratitude reminds us that no step is ever truly ours alone—every victory is achieved in the footsteps of those who taught us, walked with us, and believed in us when we faltered.

As leaders, gratitude keeps us grounded. It humbles us to see that influence is never about standing above others, but about standing with them. The most enduring leaders are not remembered for how loudly they spoke, but for how deeply they thanked—for how they made people feel seen, valued, and necessary.

I hope gratitude will also be one of the measures of our success—that we may never forget the people who lifted us up, and that we choose, always, to lift up others in return.

Today, each of us will leave here with the same diploma. But what will define us tomorrow are the choices we make: to practice kindness, to bring meaning into the ordinary, and to carry gratitude wherever we go.

Yes, there will be days we stumble. But no failure erases how far we’ve come. Each time we rise, we grow stronger, wiser, and more human. And through it all, may we never forget what stands at the heart of this calling: people—our patients, who place their hopes in our hands; our colleagues, who carry us through the hardest days; our mentors, who devote themselves to our growth; and our families, who lift us up with their love and faith.

Thank you to everyone in this room, and to those who could not be here but remain with us in spirit—for the gift of this calling, for shaping us into better people, and for the chance to pay it forward in the work that lies ahead.

And finally, thank you, my dearest batch mates—for the gift of your trust, your friendship, and for making this journey one I will carry with me for the rest of my life. As one of our own once said: maybe medical school is really about the friends we made along the way. And I couldn’t agree more.