I was a graduation speaker for Bainbridge High School’s class of 1993. It was easy to be a graduation speaker: there were auditions, and only four of us showed up: Jake Haley (then the ASB president and now an algebra teacher and coach at BHS), myself (then an overly effusive thespian, now an overly effusive writer), and two other students who couldn’t talk above a whisper. It was clear who would be doing the talking come June 5th. And now, because I know you’re all TERRIBLY INTERESTED (please, humor me here: this is totally for my own entertainment), here’s an excerpt from my speech:


The Road To Perfection: How We Became Seniors

As high school seniors we have acquired a very…unique way of looking at life. We are perfect, and that is all. [insert sounds as parents chuckle knowingly] Now, without debating the actual validity of that perception [Don't you love these words? I was working so hard to sound so smart.], we need to remember and thank those who helped us reach this heightened plane of existence that we call seniordom.

Beginning with the obvious, we owe thanks to our families. As our parents love to remind us [leans back from microphone and shouts out to entire gym] “I changed your diapers for years!!” And as much as we’d like to deny it, we weren’t always as perfect as we are now, and once upon a time we did wear diapers, and our parents did in fact change them. From our families we have learned invaluable lessons about morals, love, trust, and how to change the kitty litter and wash the dishes. [insert polite laughter at stupid joke]

Thanks are also owed to the administrators of our schools. When we were young and innocent, the principle of a school didn’t play much of a role directly in our lives. The office was mainly a place to call home from and to visit the nurse. But as we have aged and become [pause] increasing perfect, the administration has become more and more a part of our lives. What’s a perfect senior to do when we just CAN’T go to a class? Well, inevitably the result is getting called down to the office. But administrators do more than discipline. Without them, we would simply have. no. school. So thank you Dave, Neil, Dean, Georgia, and the rest of the gang down at the office. [Insert gasping, as the entire gym realizes I've just called Mr. Ellick 'n' crew by their first names. The BLASPHEMY!]

We also need to be thankful for the simple things. Such as that we’re graduating the same year as the gang on “Beverly Hills, 90210.” No other class gets that honor. We need to be thankful for the fact that this year financial aid forms got just a little more complicated [insert groans].

We need to be thankful also to each other. Some of us have been classmates for 12 years. Others of us for only a few months. Regardless of how long we’ve been here, the class of 1993 is an intricate net of friendships and support groups [er, did I know what support group implied?]. I feel confident when I say that without the love and care that we’ve received from our friends, none of us would have survived. How would any of us made it without someone to call at 2:30 in the morning and beg a ride from? How could we have gotten through school without someone to proof-read our papers or to remind us that a certain assignment was due in 10 minutes? Or maybe on the RARE occasion, loan us a math assignment of two. [Nervous laughter from math teachers.] None of us would be here without each other’s help.

But we can’t give all the credit to others. I’m forgetting–WE’RE PERFECT! [Insert hoots and hollars from classmates.] We owe thanks to ourselves! No amount of encouragement of support or pushing from anyone else could get us to where we are today. We owe ourselves a huge pat on the back. We did it. Class of 1993, we made it. Now let’s go out and show the world just how perfect we really are.