Master’s graduate in Information Technology Law Nino Uturashvili: real freedom isn't just the absence of rules – it's the ability to step outside the pattern someone else designed for you

Nino Uturashvili, a graduate of the School of Law master’s curriculum in Information Technology Law, said in his speech at the graduation ceremony in the University of Tartu assembly hall:

Dear guests, fellow students, university administration and professors,

We stand today in a building whose history is deeply connected to Estonia's struggle for identity, language, and independence. Empires rose and fell, but the university remained. And who could feel the weight of that more deeply than a daughter of Georgia, a country that has not only survived its long history of hardship, but is still fighting today to preserve its freedom.

But what is identity? And what is freedom? They say we live in a world shaped by algorithms, where decisions are quietly influenced before we even make them. And here I am, an IT law graduate, telling you that freedom is not a legal concept. It is deeply personal. Real freedom isn't just the absence of rules – it's the ability to step outside the pattern someone else designed for you. It is movement and refusal to be still. For many of us, that pursuit of freedom is the reason we're sitting in this room today.

For some of us, that freedom had a price – it meant walking away from home to choose a future no one had mapped out for us. When I look at my classmates, I see ambitious people learning to navigate new cultures, new job markets, new systems – people who packed a bag full of dreams and went to places where no one was waiting for them the way their families did. People often underestimate how hard that journey is. They see the destination, but not the distance travelled. They see the confidence, but not the loneliness, uncertainty, and rejections along the way.

And I am one of these people. Nino, born in an independent Georgia, but raised on the twelfth floor of a sixteen-story Soviet-era building. I am the girl who used to stand on the balcony, staring out at the view, wondering if she'd ever see anything more beautiful than grey buildings and the silhouettes of people worn down by life. That girl has seen many beautiful things since then, but the most beautiful view she's ever known is still the one from that balcony.

Now, when I look around this room, I don't see grades, diplomas, or achievements. I see stories like mine. I see resilience. But in a world that constantly tells us to chase excellence, we often forget to appreciate ourselves. There is no perfect version of us waiting at the finish line. Perfection doesn't exist – and that isn't a flaw in the design. It is the design.

And before we rush toward the next goal, the next degree, the next promotion, I want us to pause and simply appreciate where we are. Look around this room. Look at the people who supported you – even if that support came from your own reflection in the mirror.

However, no journey like this is ever walked alone, so before I close this chapter, I want to say thank you to the people who made this possible. Thank you, professors, for the knowledge you shared. Thank you, administration, for your support. Thanks to my classmates for the inspiration, and for agreeing to come to my home party five times, even though none of them happened. Thank you to my family for their endless support – my mother, my father, my brother, and my incredible husband, Beso.

My mother travelled here today to celebrate my graduation. What she didn't know was that her daughter was giving a speech. And as I stand here now, I can't help but imagine that perhaps, while listening, she remembered the little girl she once held by the hand. Perhaps, in these few minutes, an entire lifetime of motherhood flashed before her eyes. And if that's true, then I hope she knows that every step that brought me here carries a piece of her within it.

And finally, congratulations, Class of 2026. May your future be worthy of your courage!

19.06.2026