Today, exactly 6 years ago I graduated high school. Today approximately 9 hours ago, I watched my first set of high school seniors graduate and I couldn’t be more proud of them. A lot can happen in 6 years, but this post is not going to be about all of that. Maybe some day I will write one about how much I have changed.
On my seniors last official day of class, I gave them each a handwritten note, a chocolate bar with a customized wrapper – which had a Golden Ticket inside giving them permission to finally find out my political views – they have been dying to know all year! I also read a few words I put together. Below are those words. I wanted to document this here (on a blog I inconsistently post on and not very many people read…) in the hopes it can bring some sort of meaning to anyone who stumbles across it, or in case my former students discover this blog and simply need some encouragement. Hopefully there will be more posting over the summer since things will be a LOT less hectic for me. And to any former students of mine reading this just remember: I am proud of you, I believe in you, and if you ever reach out or visit me, it would truly be an honor – just now I will still use all of my weird sayings because “it’s a whole thing” so “do with that what you will.”
To my Graduating Seniors of 2021,
We all entered this school year feeling uncertain. A school year always begins with uncertainty; who will be in your classes, will you get along with your teachers, which classes will be the hardest, and so on. But this year, all of us, myself included, were burdened with additional uncertainties such as will there be sports, or a prom, or a graduation, will I get quarantined, and even will we get to stay in-person?
In the beginning, I had my doubts about us remaining open. Everyday I thought this would be the day there would be one too many sick staff members, or this would be the day the government would announce a closure. One month. I hoped we would have at least one month together before being shut down. And somehow, all these months later, here we still are. With each passing day, my heart filled with gratitude because I never thought I would get so many of these days with each of you.
You all have so much to be proud of. And this would remain true even if there had never been a pandemic. Pandemic or not, every year there are people who for one reason or another never graduate high school. Throughout your time at Highland, you have seen people in your grade go out the front door and never come back. But you stayed and you finished. This ability to persevere through tough challenges and become a stronger person is called resilience; a trait which is essential to succeeding throughout the rest of your life.
Now the time has come for you to enter a new life stage. Transitions can be tough and so can closures, though you all are certainly capable of handling both. The amount of growth I witnessed from all of you during this year was truly astonishing. You all became better workers, better learners, and above all better people. At the start of the year I told you all I hoped this class would help you to grow in those ways and I’d like to think it played a small part in your growth. But in reality, you all are the ones responsible for your success.
People often claim teaching is a thankless job but I think it is full of gifts if you know where to look. Joy and thanksgiving often appear in the little things all of you do for and with me each day, whether it’s saying hi, joking around (though maybe some of you do this part a little too much!), asking insightful questions, getting passionate about certain issues, and just filling me in on parts of your lives as you transition into adulthood.
Supposedly, the first class a teacher has is especially hard to say goodbye to, but saying goodbye to all of you is not hard because you all are first; it is hard because of who you all are. The pain I feel regarding our time coming to an end is a blessing because it attests to how special you all are. Teachers say they forget a lot of their students over the years, but I cannot imagine forgetting any of you. Even if I do forget you one day, it doesn’t change the fact that I care about each of you very much, even though of course, I dislike you all equally.
My college admissions essay reflected on the life my grandfather lived and what he went through as a result of Alzheimer’s disease. Because of this disease’s potential to pass down through generations, it made me realize there is a real possibility I could one day forget everything I will accomplish in my life, just like he, and so many others have. This includes my time with all of you. But it also might not happen, and even if my memory fades one day, whether it’s the result of a disease, or simply the natural aging process, it’s not something to worry about. Because me possibly forgetting something doesn’t mean it never happened. And just because I may not remember, doesn’t mean others will forget. So even though I may forget you, I hope you remember me.
I hope you remember me not out of my own self-interest or vanity. I hope you remember me because remembering me means remembering there is always someone out there who believes in you and who wants nothing but the best for you. I hope you remember me in the difficult times, when you want to quit, so that you realize giving up on yourself is not what you are meant to do because I know you are capable of resiliency. I hope you remember me during the best times of your life and when you achieve something amazing because I always knew you could do it.
I am so proud of all of you already, but I am even more proud of what you will do, or even more importantly, who you will become, and I hope to hear from you about it down the road. To end this before things get even more touchy feely and sappy, I will miss you all, and I wish you the best of luck, so do with that what you will.
Bravo! Very insightful, I just know you are an amazing teacher!