To the Class of 2021

Hello and good evening friends, families, teachers, administration, faculty, and of course the class of 2021. I have been given the great privilege of delivering my speech today and although I recognize that highlighting the past four years while offering congratulations and words of encouragement in 1500 words or less is an impossible task, I am very honored to have been given the chance to try. So without further adieu, “To the Class of 2021”. 

Perhaps what is unknown, or maybe after attending the school itself just a bit overlooked, is that the reputation of Sturgis truly precedes itself. In fact it does so to the point where when I first moved to Massachusetts in the fifth grade, my family already had its eye on the Sturgis lottery. The close knit and highly ranked high school that combined students from all over the state drew me, and perhaps a good portion of you, in. But of course there are also a number of you who enrolled unwillingly: pushed by your families, guardians, or whoever to come. And to you, although Sturgis was not your first choice, I am very glad that you decided to stay.

Because I have become quite fond of all of you: the complex and exceptional personalities that make up our graduating class. In particular, I would like to formally express my gratitude towards those with perfect handwriting who would act as scribes for group projects, the brave souls who volunteered to kick start socratic seminars when the rest of us were too nervous to begin, and finally those who made slightly inappropriate, yet hilarious comments in the back of the class. You have all contributed to the unique Sturgis experience that we have all come to know. 

And to call it “unique” seems quite fitting, wouldn’t you say? When we first crossed the front doors and stepped inside the metal, patch work style building as ninth graders, we were quickly acquainted with not only each other but also the quirks of Sturgis itself: the most obvious was the lack of what we thought were the basic necessities of a high school. A cafeteria, gymnasium, athletic fields, and, although not as talked about, a locker room (an especially hard felt loss when you’re struggling to quickly change in the cramped saunas we call the upstairs bathrooms). But somehow along the way we realized that perhaps those “losses” weren’t as severe as we had once thought. We adapted: normalized eating lunch in the same classrooms we learned Latin conjugations in and occasionally being led through the school while blindfolded by our wellness partners. And as I’ve reflected on our time together I have come to recognize our adaptability as one of our defining characteristics, and unfortunately one that was truly put to the test from our junior spring all the way up to the end of our senior year. 

When the coronavirus pandemic hit we were all faced with intense new emotions. Nervousness turned to fear, disorientation became sheer confusion, and sadness morphed into despair. We felt anxious, depressed, isolated, restless, or some combination of emotions we struggled to even put into words.

In what I will refer to as “Episode 1” of the pandemic, seeing as throughout this whole ordeal I have really been getting the money’s worth out of my family’s Netflix subscription, we spent our days alone. Confined to our homes, our brief excitement over a short break in March quickly soured as our school’s predicted reopening date pushed further and further back. “Episode 2” brought the introduction of virtual learning. Amongst other things we learned in vain over the screen, we discovered blue light glasses, the chat bar function, and the art of conveniently joining the Google Meet while in bed. Homemade masks were made, socially distant hangouts emerged, and birthday car parades became commonplace. 

“Episode 3” was perhaps the most strenuous, emotional, and testing time of our lives. Our senior year began with the clicks of our mice into our respective Google Meet links, propelling us into a virtual world that we didn’t feel as though we could escape. We were suddenly thrown into IAs, the EE, CAS projects, and all the other IB requirements we had been dreading. We realized college application deadlines approached faster than our hands could type out supplemental essays. And with our part time jobs, sports, and clubs it felt like the world would not stop spinning. Personally, I just didn’t sleep and inhaled caffeine to compensate. But perhaps what made this never ending episode worse was that we felt so alone: limited to seeing two other people in our hybrid learning cohorts if we were lucky. In the midst of all this I recall lying on the floor of my bedroom, staring at the ceiling and relentlessly trying to find some relief. While feeling unable to endure any more, to see the infinite number of assignments due from the school I was barely allowed to step foot in, my mother walked into the room. She saw me, so overwhelmed yet oddly numb, and asked if I wanted to stop: to walk away from all the stress and hardship that had left my brain feeling fried. 

Of course I said yes. Haven’t all of you? Haven’t you all said that you wanted to quit and just accept the horrible outcome at one point or another? Because this was definitely not the first time that I said I wanted to give up. Pandemic aside, there have been plenty of moments over the past four years where we have all wanted to surrender to the circumstances around us. Well that being said, clearly I didn't. As tempting as it was, I didn’t throw my computer away and delete all of the school related apps on my phone. Like you I did the work, but if it were not for the support and encouragement from my family, friends, and teachers I can guarantee you that I would not have been able to do it all.

In a seemingly impossible feat performed by the medical community, our administration, teachers, and faculty we are all together here today. But most importantly we are here because of our own shows of immeasurable strength and adaptability. Despite our senior year failing to meet pretty much all of our expectations, we took blow after blow on the chin and continued on. 

This is not to say we did so easily, or with grace. I will not stand before you and glamorize the ugliness of the year under the mantra that we are a group of perfectly selfless young adults, capable of all the understanding in the world. That would be a lie, or at the very least yet another impossible standard we couldn’t have lived up to. The truth is this: we did not want to adapt. We did not want to be selfless or brave or understanding, we wanted to be selfish: to have the homecoming at 529, steal our classmates’ on campus parking spots, sneak out to Subway during lunch, win Spirit Games under a big green banner, senior year. And who could blame us? Despite what we’ve been told countless times by our superiors, what I’ve learned is that sometimes it is acceptable and justified to feel selfish. Otherwise you invalidate the things, in this case school traditions and celebrations, you worked so hard for and truly deserve. 

So in reality perhaps our adaptability was a trait not found naturally within us but rather one collectively developed over time, forced into us by virtue of the numerous impossible situations we’ve faced together. However the way I see it, maybe we are better off that way. As we face our respective, impending futures at one point or another we will be threatened off our charted courses. We will want to abandon our plans of reaching those sweet harbors for fear of an unforgiving sea. But when those times come, I hope you’ll remember where you are now. Because this year we navigated through the most turbulent of storms and now here we are on the bright shores of our futures. So as you go off on your own, may you always continue to sail your way through the storms and strive for only the most beautiful destinations. 

Thank you and congratulations Class of 2021!