Dr. Milaschewski, Mr. Tracey, members of the school committee, teachers, family and friends, I’m so honored to be able to address you today.
And to the Class of 2023: we did it! I’m so proud to see you all in caps and gowns, finally ready to cross this stage. As our senior year comes to an end, I find myself in disbelief at how quickly 12 years could pass by. 2023 was always just some time in the distant future, yet somehow today is the day we’ve been working towards our whole lives.
As I began writing this speech, my mind was flooded with memories of growing up and going to school. In particular, I remembered the butterflies my class raised in Mrs. Mariello’s second grade class at Barrows. Watching our caterpillars grow and change into butterflies taught us about life cycles and how animals must adapt to survive. But for a bunch of 7 and 8-year-olds, we cared more about the cute little caterpillars and their anticipated metamorphosis than the science behind it. And although we were desperate to see their butterfly wings when they came out of their cocoons, we knew that meant it was time for us to let them go. It was hard for me to understand as a second grader: why did we have to say goodbye to such beautiful things? Why couldn’t we keep them forever? But deep down, I knew they would be better off in nature where they belong. I can still picture them disappearing into the sky, unsure of where they would end up.
It’s funny how much I still feel like that second grader today. Now, watching as we all go our separate ways into the world feels so bittersweet. For the first time, summer break doesn’t end with us returning to school together in the fall. It’s important as we take these next steps to prioritize the friendships we have created along the way. You can’t make new childhood friends. These are the people who helped you rehearse for your first band concert, listened to you complain about your APUSH test, and celebrated when you made the field hockey team. The experiences we shared here are what keep us connected even as we part ways. Cherish the
relationships you have built with the people who understand you most, and don’t be afraid to depend on them as you figure out what comes next.
And of course, don’t forget to recognize the teachers who have planned every lesson, from observing the life cycle of a butterfly to fruit fly genetics in AP Biology. Each test and assignment has given us the knowledge we need to navigate life after high school. But what impacted me most about my favorite teachers were often the things they did beyond lectures and grades. It’s not easy to make long division fun, but my third grade teacher had us singing and dancing in math class. Thank you, teachers, for the endless hugs and high-fives you gave us.
Not only were our teachers there for us daily, but so were our families, who did everything they could to ensure our success. Someone was there in the mornings, tying our shoes, packing lunches, and making sure we got to school on time. So as we celebrate our graduation take the time to appreciate all the hard work those around you have put into raising you.
While I’m here, I want to give a special thanks to my parents for everything they have done to get me to this point. Your constant love and support has made me the person I am today, and I truly could not be here without you. I hope you all take a moment today to thank your families for all the things they do with your best interest in mind.
So as we prepare to leave each other, I want to end this speech where this whole journey began: elementary school. Where the classroom walls were covered with drawings illustrating what each student wanted to be when they grew up. We sang the school song together during the announcements every morning, and we brought our favorite stuffed animals in for show and tell. When we were kids, we didn’t care how other people perceived us. We had big dreams and we found wonder in mundane things. Sometime between then and now, we started to doubt ourselves. As we became middle and high schoolers, we thought having big dreams wasn’t cool, and it was embarrassing to speak your mind. What would your 7-year-old self think of you now? Although we can’t go back to second grade, peering in awe at the caterpillars in their enclosures, we can live each moment the way our younger selves would have wanted. Appreciate the good times spent with friends and family while we can, and admire the small things like watching a butterfly flutter into the distance.
Congratulations, class of 2023; I can’t wait to see all the incredible things you do.
