2026 Gala Spotlight: Alicia Cage

Good evening everyone,

If you had told 11-year-old me, the girl sitting in the corner of a library carrying around a Human Biology textbook like it was a security blanket, that one day I would be standing here as a keynote speaker, I probably would’ve looked at you, paused, and then gone right back to my book.

Because I had things to finish. Priorities.

But honestly, I don’t think I would’ve believed you.

Not because I didn’t have dreams, but because I didn’t yet know what was possible for me.

And that is exactly what Brooklyn Jesuit Prep gave me: possibility. 

When I think about my time at BJP, I don’t just think about academics. I think about the people who saw something in me before I fully saw it in myself.

I think about teachers like Ms. Lococo, who never made me feel strange for asking endless science questions. She leaned into my curiosity and made it feel like a strength instead of something to hide.

I think about sitting in Ms. Meyer’s office crying because I felt behind and unsure of my future. And instead of telling me to figure it out on my own, she sat with me. Years later, when I went back and reread old emails between us, I realized just how much she had continued to show up for me, even long after I left BJP.

That’s what makes this school special.

The teachers here don’t just teach you. They pour into you. They care about you long after you leave these walls. 

And for my mother, that meant everything.

My mom is an immigrant from Jamaica who raised three children while doing everything she could to hold our family together. Like so many parents, she believed it takes a village to raise a child, but trusting that village is hard.

Yet after speaking with the staff at BJP, she trusted that this school would not only educate me, but truly care for me.

And that kind of trust changes lives.

I was raised by a mother who filled our home with books and encouraged my love for science long before I knew what medicine even looked like as a career. BJP took that foundation and built on it.

They gave me confidence. They gave me dignity. They made me feel seen.

BJP was also my first introduction to Catholic education and to the principles of cura personalis and imago dei. But this school did not just teach those ideas through definitions. It lived them.

You could see it in the teachers who stayed after hours to help students. In the way they cared for us not just academically, but personally. They taught us what it means to care for the whole person.

And those lessons shaped the person I am today.

They are part of the reason I am pursuing medicine, because I learned here that people are not problems to solve. They are lives to care for. 

BJP also taught me resilience.

I still remember memorizing “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost and wondering why we had to learn the whole thing. But now I understand. I have never been someone who takes the easy path. I choose the road that creates impact, even when it is difficult.

And that mindset has shaped me into the leader I am today.

I also remember memorizing “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou. At the time, it felt like another assignment. Now, it feels like a way of life.

It taught us how to rise confidently, especially as Black women, in spaces that do not always make room for us.

Those small moments at BJP planted seeds that grew into the woman I am today: a woman of service, leadership, resilience, and dedication. 

And I’ll be honest, BJP was not easy.

The school was strict. It pushed us. It held us accountable. At the time, I didn’t always understand why.

Now I do.

The world we step into requires more than talent. It requires resilience, discipline, and the confidence to keep going even when things are hard.

And BJP prepared us for that.

So when I stand here today, I am not just a product of my own hard work. I am the product of a community that believed in me before I fully believed in myself.

And that is what your support makes possible.

There is a student sitting in that same library corner right now. There is a student asking too many questions. There is a student unsure of their future who simply needs someone to see them and believe in them.

Just like someone once believed in me.

So tonight, I do not just thank you for your generosity.

I ask you to continue.

Because what you are supporting is not just a school. You are supporting futures. You are shaping leaders. You are changing lives.

I know because mine is one of them.

Thank you.