Del Reid urges School of Professions graduates, ‘Don’t settle for good enough,’ at 153rd Commencement

Del Reid, ’04, founder of 26 shirts and co-founder of the Bills Mafia movement, delivered an inspiring speech to the graduating Class of 2025 during the School of the Profession’s morning Commencement ceremony on Saturday, May 17.

Reid addressed a full crowd in the Sports Arena for Buffalo State’s 153rd annual Commencement, during which the university conferred degrees on nearly 1,700 undergraduate and graduate students over three ceremonies.

“Don’t settle for ‘good enough,’” Reid said. “Don’t let comfort keep you from greatness. Don’t let fear shrink your dreams. Don’t let the noise around you drown out your own voice. You were made for more. So go out there—and build a life that reflects it.”

Reid holds a bachelor of science in computer information systems from Buffalo State University. He is a passionate community advocate and entrepreneur that has harnessed the power of sports fandom to make a tangible and lasting impact on the lives of those in need. His company, 26 Shirts, combines sports, fashion, and charity by designing limited edition, Buffalo-themed apparel. Each shirt sold donates a portion to a specific beneficiary in need. To date, 26 Shirts has raised nearly $2 million in donations to the community.

Following is the full text of Reid’s speech:

“Good enough.”

It’s a phrase we’ve all heard. A phrase we’ve all used. It shows up when something is fine, but not great. When we do the minimum or accept the default. When we say, “This works,” but we don’t feel proud of it.

Sometimes “good enough” is just a coping mechanism. Sometimes it’s a lie we tell ourselves when we’re afraid to try. And yet—you’re not sitting in that cap and gown today because you chose “good enough.” You’re here because you pushed beyond it. Because you didn’t quit. Because you decided you were worth more—and you worked hard enough to prove it. That matters. And that deserves to be seen.

So let me start with this: Congratulations, Buffalo State Class of 2025. You did it. You really did.

This day holds special meaning for me personally as well. Today, I have the incredible honor of accepting a degree on behalf of my daughter, Delaney — a proud member of the Class of 2025. While she couldn’t be here in person, I want to thank Buffalo State for allowing me to accept her diploma on her behalf. As a father, it’s a moment I will treasure forever.

I was invited to speak here today because I live in this city, I love this city—and I’ve been fortunate enough to start something that brings people together around a cause. I’m the founder of 26 Shirts, a small business built on a simple idea: we sell Buffalo-themed apparel and goods, and everything we sell helps someone in need.

To date, we’ve raised over $2.1 million for families and causes—most of them right here in Western New York. That’s not a number I say with pride as much as I say it with gratitude. Because it never would’ve happened if I had stuck with “good enough.” Let me explain.

Not too long ago, I was managing the IT Web Team at Roswell Park. It was a great job. I had steady pay, great coworkers, benefits, even a pension. And I liked the work. I certainly didn’t hate it. And it wasn’t necessarily burning me out. But I also wasn’t fulfilled.

There was a voice inside me—soft at first, but growing louder over time—that kept whispering, “There’s something more you’re meant to do.” At first, I ignored it. I mean, come on. I had a good thing going. Why rock the boat?

But then that voice turned into restlessness. I didn’t want to build internal hospital dashboards. I wanted to build impact.

In 2011, I was spending time on this new(ish) platform called Twitter. At the time, it was mostly tech talk, but I was always searching for people discussing the Buffalo Bills. One day, while joking around with some fellow fans, I coined the phrase “Bills Mafia.” It was a throwaway comment. I thought it was funny and moved on.

But it stuck. And it grew. Other fans used it. Then players. And suddenly I found myself with a small—and then not-so-small—online platform. That platform brought people my way—not just football fans, but people who needed help. They’d say, “Can you share this fundraiser?” or “Can you help us reach this goal?”

And something in me started to shift. Soon after, I had the idea: What if I sold a new shirt every two weeks—and each one helped a different family in need? Twenty-six shirts in a year. That’s where the weird name comes from.

At first, I treated it like a one-year community service project. I kept my full-time job. I worked nights and weekends on the shirts. But as the months passed, I started realizing… this wasn’t a side gig. It was a calling. Still, I was afraid to let go of the comfort. I had a family. A house. A blueprint.

And then — I got laid off. Funny how the thing you fear sometimes turns out to be the thing that sets you free. When I lost my job, I stood at a crossroads. One path led back to security—a return to the tech world, a steady job, a reliable routine. Back to “good enough.” The other was risky. Uncharted. Humbling. I had no guarantees. Just an idea, some momentum… and a purpose that wouldn’t let go.

With the support of my wife and family, I chose the second path and never looked back. Now, I wake up every day knowing I’m doing the work I was built for.

So why am I telling you all this? Because you’re at your own crossroads right now—or you will be soon. You’re stepping into a world that’s uncertain, fast-moving, and full of opinions about what you should be doing. It’s easy to fall into “good enough.” It’s easy to choose the job that looks safest. To live the life that’s most acceptable. To slowly settle into something that just works.

But here’s my challenge:

Don’t live a life that just works. Build a life that matters. Build a life that feels true. That taps into the weird, specific, beautiful mix of what you care about and what you’re good at. That’s where fulfillment lives.

OK, so, allow me to pass along some encouragement for the road ahead of you.

1. You don’t need to have it all figured out. You’re not behind. You’re just beginning.

2. You will fail at something. And that’s not a sign you’re lost—it’s a sign you’re trying.

3. There is no map. And that’s good. Because it means you get to draw one for yourself. How cool is that?

4. Keep learning who you are. Pay attention to what excites you. What breaks your heart. What draws you in when no one’s watching.

5. Be patient with yourself. It’s okay if your path doesn’t look like anyone else’s. Mine didn’t show up until I was almost 40!

If you ever doubt your ability to handle what comes next, remember this: You made it through Buffalo State. Through long nights and early mornings. Through personal setbacks and academic pressure. Through a global pandemic. Through jobs, commutes, childcare, group projects, self-doubt — all of it. That’s not nothing. That’s proof. Proof that you’re strong. That you can adapt. That you don’t give up.

Don’t forget that version of yourself. That’s the one who’s going to change the world—not in one big leap, but in a thousand small, courageous steps.

If you hear nothing else I’ve said today, hear this: Don’t settle for “good enough.” Don’t let comfort keep you from greatness. Don’t let fear shrink your dreams. Don’t let the noise around you drown out your own voice. You were made for more. So go out there—and build a life that reflects it.

Congratulations, Class of 2025. You’ve already proven you can finish something hard. Now go start something meaningful.

Photo by Jesse Steffan-Colucci, Buffalo State photographer.