May 19, 2025
Judge Frank Caprio, J.D. ’58, ’08Hon. address to the graduates
Retired Providence Municipal Court Judge Frank Caprio, J.D. ’58, ’08Hon. presented this address as the keynote speaker at the Providence College commencement on Sunday, May 18, 2025.
Thank you for your kind words and wonderful introduction. It’s an honor to be here today with you, your family and your friends, and the entire Providence College community.
I was a judge right here in Providence for 38 years. Thirty-eight years! And after graduation season, my court was inundated with people with parking tickets for parking at graduations. I routinely dismissed those tickets as a graduation gift. Actually, I see some familiar faces out there — in the faculty, too. Unfortunately, I’m now retired, so I’ll try to be as brief as I can, so you won’t get a parking ticket this morning.
The most powerful influence on the way I would make my decisions as a judge was to place myself in the shoes of the person who stood before me, to try to understand their voice, and to allow them to explain any factors that they may be experiencing. Today, I look out at the graduates, and I’m doing the same thing except this one big difference: I actually was in your shoes 67 years ago.
It wasn’t here in the Civic Center. It was at the Providence College campus. But it was wonderful. That was one of the proudest moments for my entire family — and what a family it was. If you’ll indulge me for a moment. I’d like to tell you a little bit about them, because it was their influence that made me the judge that many of you have seen on television.
My parents were immigrants from Italy. My father was one of 10, my mother was one of eight — none of which went beyond the eighth grade. I had about 50 first cousins, and we all lived in Little Italy — that section of Providence which is known as Federal Hill. From the entire group, I was the first person to graduate college, and it was Providence College that gave me that opportunity. It eventually changed the lives of every single person in the Caprio family.
So, I ask if any of you are in the same shoes I was in. Are any of you first-generation college graduates? Please join me in a special round of applause for those people and their families.
When you were looking in the mirror this morning and straightening your cap, I hope you saw the reflection of your forbearers and fully appreciate the sacrifices they made to make it possible for you to be here today, to fulfill the dreams of their entire generation that their children and grandchildren lives would be substantially better than their own. And your hard work has made their dreams come true.
As I was adjusting my cap in the mirror this morning. I saw the reflection of my father, my brother, and myself when I was 12 years old, putting on an old woolen hat at four o’clock in the morning. You see, my father was a milkman, and my brother and I would help my father deliver milk in the early mornings before school started — carrying the heavy glass bottles filled with milk up the stairs of the tenement houses on Federal Hill and bringing the empty bottles back down.
I can hear his voice very clearly right now talking to me, his 12-year-old son, with his wisdom earned by his life experiences, in his beautiful, broken English and accent. And this is what he would say to me: “If you don’t want to do this the rest of your life, then study hard and go to college.”
From that day I had the drive to go to college, and Providence College gave me the chance for a better life and, more importantly, to fulfill my father’s dream.
As a judge, I had a difficult task of passing judgment on matters that appeared before me. Often this required me to either to believe or disbelieve the person who was standing before me.
Now, my court was most different than most courts. As you saw in the video, it generally placed the individual in front of me to argue their own case. In the 38 years that I was a judge, I heard every excuse — every one! I even heard some creative excuses from some of you — and from your professors! Many asked how many I how I tolerated these excuses, especially with a person who clearly violated the law.
However, I rarely found myself tolerating the people who came before me. I rather appreciated them almost every time. How can that happen in a court of law where the judge’s role was most often that of an authoritarian? It’s actually quite simple. You see, although I wore a robe like most judges do around the world, I wasn’t a traditional judge, because under my robe, I didn’t wear a badge. I wore a heart.
I approached each case with an open mind and treated everyone equally with kindness, compassion, and, most of all, common sense. This is not a judicial philosophy that I learned in law school. This is a moral philosophy that was taught to me by my parents at home and right here at Providence College.
And when people around the world see me take the bench on social media, they see a man wearing a robe with a gavel in his hand. But what they don’t see is my mother’s spirit whispering in one ear, and my father’s spirit whispering in my other, to make sure that I act with the tolerance and forgiveness that they instilled in me throughout my life.
As you were walking to your seats today, I hope you remember the excitement of the day you received your acceptance letter from Providence College — the pride in your family’s eyes, the uncertain yet exhilarating challenge ahead. And I am confident that as you proceed in life, you will always, always keep your parents or those who provided you with the strong moral compass on your shoulders, and please listen to them as they whisper in your ears.
Your careers will be full of success, excitement, and making this world a better place for all. That’s the easy part, and it’s what is expected of you. However, you will also not be spared problems. Obviously, there will be setbacks, disappointments, and the rare failure. How you handle them is the real challenge. It is your reaction to those moments that will define your career.
I’m no stranger to setbacks. Trust me, I’m no stranger at all to setbacks. So my advice during those difficult times is just don’t ever give up. Don’t ever give up.
Have faith in yourself and reach deep within you to find the strength to persevere. Each of you, by your very presence here today, has already shown that you have what it takes to persevere.
It’s thrilling to me that Providence College has given each of the graduates a specially inscribed copy of my first book called Compassion in the Court. You all have it? Raise your hand. Make sure you read it.
A few years ago in my 80s, I embarked on a new career as an author. I began to write the book that chronicles the stories of my life — how my childhood without many material possessions was filled with love, compassion, and hard work. How focus on education, faith, and family values can be the springboard to make any dream possible. It can even create a judge who can, from a courtroom right down the street, become a global force of compassion and justice and amassed on social media over 25 million followers.
I am asked the question so often — more often than you would believe — “How do you get 25 million followers?” And it’s very simple: By merely treating people with kindness, compassion, and understanding. Fortunately, that message of compassion and kindness has resonated around the world.
I’m in my 80s, and I’m battling pancreatic cancer. It has taken much of my strength, but it can’t take my faith, it can’t take my heart, and it can’t take my message.
So before I finish my remarks, I have one thing to ask of you. I am confident that all of you will climb the ladder of success, but it is not enough for you to climb the ladder of success. When you reach the top and are fulfilled with all the spoils that you have earned on your hard-fought way up that ladder — personally, professionally, financially, and socially — you must remember the most important obligation of success. And this is what I ask of you: You must leave the ladder down for others to follow.
It’s your duty to reach down to help and pull others up in every aspect of life. And it’s not always financial help. Sometimes it’s as simple as placing your hand on someone’s shoulder and telling them that you have confidence in them, that they can do it. That you love and respect them. Moments like that can make all the difference and help someone get to the next rung on the ladder. It’s that simple.
I ask you to please wear a heart under your robe. Always treat people with kindness, compassion, and understanding — and you will have lived up to the honor that your diploma that you receive today requires.
And as you leave here today, reach deep within you to the soul of what has moved America. Reach for the dreams and values of all those who came before you — those who gave so much and took so little. Think of the homeless, the poor, the downtrodden. Think of the sick, the helpless, the hungry, and the less fortunate. Remember the elderly, your parents, your grandparents. Remember the underprivileged and persecuted.
When the book is closed and we are judged on whether or not we met this challenge, we will be judged not by how much we earn, but by how much we care. We will be judged not by how much we have taken, but by how much we have given. We will be judged not by the dreams we made come true for ourselves, but by the dreams we made come true for others. And lastly, we will be judged by the hope — the hope — that we inspire in the hopeless and the difference that we make in the lives that we touch.
This is the true definition of success, and I ask you to carry it on. And it’s really not that complicated. All it takes is what my parents taught me and what we see at Providence College every day. To listen. To treat people with dignity, compassion, fairness. and understanding.
Congratulations. I wish you good luck. Much success. I hope you enjoy the book, and God bless you.
