Thank You So Much for Having Me Her Tonight

8/8/2019 Thank You So Much for Having Me Her Tonight

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Speech to the Graduating Class of Rochester, June 9 th, 2010

Thank you so much for having me her tonight. It is a great

honor to return to be in front of you once again. After 13 years of

edumacation, you’re being thrust into the world, the real world and

from the residents of that space to you, the newbies, good luck,

you’re going to need it. Our generation looks to you to make a lot

of money so we can retire early.

When your president and leader, Allyson first asked me to

speak in front of you tonight, a sense of blind panic set in. Whatcould I possibly say to you that I hadn’t already said, over and

over? “What do I say?” I asked her.

“Talk about when we were growing up, when we were young” she

replied.

When you were young? What was that like? How young is young

to someone 17 or 18? Should I go back to when you were just

infants? I then thought it was probably best that I just go back to

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that fateful August long ago.

So, to put you in the right frame of mind, here are your

progress reports from when I first met you in the fall of 2003. (pass

out reports). There is a lot of work you did that year and this is just

a snapshot of what you’ve done as a class. If I could’ve, I

would’ve brought all of your progress reports, but this seemed the

most significant.

Take a moment to look at them and reflect on who you were

back then. Not quite in puberty, a lot smaller than you are now,well, Kaitlyn’s the same size but the rest of you have grown; and

you were a lot more noisy than you are now. Yes, think back to

that time—you as a class, 2010 were not the most loved groups of

students to come through those doors. Dire warnings about you

were posted all over the faculty room, other teachers shuddered at

the mention of the class and then I had you twice a day.

Somewhere someone was laughing. “Feed the new teacher to

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2010, see if he can hack it…”

Good times, right? Look back at those progress reports.

Incidentally, anyone who wants to turn in assignments now, or

have been sitting on them since that time you’re welcome to do so

tonight. Angel, you owe me some vocabulary sheets and Hugh,

you can turn in Nyle’s Diary assignment as soon as you can. Sam,

you can still make up those vocab tests if you want to before

graduation and Allyson, good job on those same vocab tests. Well

done on passing all of them though rumor has it you copied off of

Chelsea for most of them.

Speaking of that name, some of you also have progress

reports from students who didn’t make it this far. Remember

Kelsey Keown? How about Eddie Massimino? Sarah Lanpher?

Michael Rogers? How about Thomas Decoff, Kat Ingemi, Nicole

Kolesnik, and Chelsea Robicheau? They all shaped your identity

and for a while, were a part of this class. Some of them are still

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your friends but you’re here, and they moved on to somewhere

else. People we know influence our lives and our identities but it’s

who’s standing next to you that matters in the here and now.

You’ve added a few to your ranks as well—how different the class

would’ve been without Tyler and Matt coming to join your gaggle

or having Gus and Raul added to the mix as well.

We picked up Tyler as a free agent and got Matt in trade for

Thomas from Bethel. Both schools think they got the better of the

deal but we here know who got the best out of it, right? Each

person that left was unique and contributed to you as a group

leaving a mark where they were and where you are now.

Back to the sixth grade. Some people can look back at the

past and see only idealized fantasies of what happened way back

then. Not me—you were a class of little hellions, bent on the

destruction of the western world as we know it. If there was a

choice between teaching the kids of South Park or another year of

you as sixth graders, I’d happily take on a whole class of Cartman,

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Kenny, Stan and Butters. You were a real challenge! Noisy, rude,

energetic, challenging, apathetic and bouncing all over the place. It

was like trying to teach a whole class of gas molecules floating

around a beaker. And you were so loud as well. Kelsey K. had a

voice that carried down the hall all the way to the auditorium

through double doors and through the noise of the locker room.

Her laugh could be heard in Hancock on good days. After two

sections of full bore sixth grade I would go home exhausted and

weak from exertion. Thank god for the major stash of chocolate

that kept me on a sugar buzz for most of that year.

But, we did some cool stuff in all of that mayhem. We read A

Day No Pigs Would Die, or at least some of you did. Sheena and

Danielle, now is the time to come clean. The rest were at least

pretty good at faking it. Phoenix Rising, Harry Potter and the

Sorcerer’s Stone and played for the house cup. You wrote

interesting procedures based on creating spells, and started to write

and express yourselves in ways that were novel, fun and different.

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We had a break from each other for a year as the school

decided to feed Ms. Brennan to you for 7 th grade and then all of a

sudden we were back together in 8 th grade, then 9 th and finally 10 th

grade. I think Ms. Hughes wanted to see how many times she

could put us together until one of us finally cracked. Through those

years I had the privilege of seeing you growing up from being little

demons to young men and women with bright futures ahead of

you.

The coolest thing that I got to see you do is write and we diddo a lot of writing in class. You shared your ideas and your

thoughts with me, each other and the community. Some of you

who never, ever imagined themselves as a writer suddenly became

expressive, interesting and full of life on the page. Does anyone

recognize this piece?

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I Wish

I wish that I could have been better friends with you

That we could grow old together, talk about boys,

Go shopping and to the movies.

I could have said goodbye to you

But you never get the chance to say goodbye

To the ones you love. If I could say goodbye to you I would have

told her how much I’m going to miss you and how much you

means to me.That you weren’t in a car accident

When I found out you were in a car accident and when I found out

it was you I wailed

Because now my best friend is gone

I hope the person that took away her life pays for it.

I only wish,

Again and again,

That you were still alive.

That was Sam Twitchell—great poem, isn’t it? All it took for her

to become a writer is to have what F. Scott Fitzgerald said:

“You don't write because you want to say something, you write

because you have something to say.”

Sam had something to say, something important that found an

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outlet on the page. She didn’t keep it in, it’s out there for all to see

and hear.

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Learning to Cope

After many years of trying times,It all adds up, and redefinesMy life as I know it.I've finally learned how to cope.

I've sat in my room, for hours a day,Trying to get away from all that is madeTo make my life harder.But all of these things will make me stronger.

With the stereo blasting, I whisk myself away,To a place in my mind called Lullaby BayWhere I let my dreams sail away,Past the sea of emotion, onto a brand new day.

But music isn’t the only way to pass the time,I've got a life ahead of me, and a life I left behind.So what am I going to do next?What if more things come up and put me to the test? What happens next?

What if my mom got cancer?What if I became paralyzed?What if my best friend died?And by now I’ve realized; that life isn’t fair.

So as the days go on, and there are still many left to passI'm not going to sit on my ass.I've got a wonderful life, and I'm going to go live it,And try my best to fulfill every minute. I've learned to cope.

That was Hugh, from 9 th grade. A lot going on there that we

all feel, but never express, and here he is sharing it with all of us.

That’s taking a chance. All it took for him to become a writer is to

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have what F. Scott Fitzgerald said:

“You don't write because you want to say something, you write

because you have something to say.”

Hugh had something to say, something important that found an

outlet on the page. He didn’t keep it in, it’s out there for all to see

and hear.

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There was also levity in your writing as well. Not all writing

has to reflect such tragedy. There are pieces such as this:

Harlan Hopkins Superpowers

I wish I could have super powers it’s so hard to choose there are

so many cool super powers that anyone would love to have. It’s

very difficult to decide. I guess a cool power would be the power to

create food. I mean food that I can literally make appear out of

nowhere and any food I want. So if I was sitting on the couch and I

was hungry I could just think of whatever food I wanted and it

would appear. Especially movie theater popcorn that’s always

great to eat for when you’re watching TV.

I guess I can’t keep my powers to myself though that’s not fair to

everyone else. I would travel the world and give food to the needy

and starving families around the world to help them survive and

live a better life. I guess if I had superpowers this would be the

power I want.

Can anyone guess who that is? Look around at each other, is

anyone smiling and laughing, recognizing their own words? Yes,

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there is! Take a bow, Harlan, you’ve earned it. I also understand

that through some stroke of luck you are no longer part of the club

that only holds Jace and Dylan as members. Congratulations, I

think though I am not sure whether I should be congratulating

Harlan, or Jace and Dylan for their membership. Good luck

though.

Through these years you also grew as people, and as friends.

To that I attribute the one thing you lacked in those years but now I

understand are now in the valley. Back then we were in the dark

ages here—there was no cel phone service, no signal, noinformation so you were forced into actually interacting with one

another as people rather than pixels, words instead of texts, and

conversations rather than bullet points. Some of you were more

eloquent than most, and some of you I don’t think I heard more

than ten words at a time out of you. I keep hearing that Dani and

Liam are loquacious and loud but there’s no evidence of that to the

contrary so I will continue on thinking that they’d both give Silent

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Cal a run for his money as the quietest individual Vermont has

produced. Prove me wrong at some point, please?

Sometimes the conversations before class were about dates,

or alleged dates. Often they were about sports, or sports teams.

Most of the time the conversation was about each other or what

went on the day before, the weekend before or even the summer

before, but it was conversation, thoughts and ideas being

transmitted to each other face to face. How novel, how new and

how so thoroughly enjoyable for an English teacher to hear.

Hearing you talk one could learn about skate boards from

Collin, cows from Crystal, the Diamond Mall from Matt andKayla, and summer camp from Hugh. TJ would talk about forming

a band with Harlan and Tyler would bemoan his lack of an

opposite sex social life. Dylan would be reading but interjecting

when he could. Missy would arrive late and always have to go to

the bathroom immediately before class would start and not return

until she had checked out the entire building. Why you had to go to

the bathroom over the elementary school, I don’t know but you

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certainly made sure things were ok over there. These events and

conversations found their way into your writing in ways that were

interesting and new, reflecting not only your talents but the desire

to share some of those most intimate moments and thoughts in

your lives. They were precious gifts as there is nothing more afraid

of showing true feelings than a teenager, especially a teenager with

some secret pain. Yet, share you did, over and over.

For example:

Mad at the Weather

By Thomas J. Purdy

Rochester High School, Grade 9

I’m angry at Mother Nature,It’s too chilly and too cold,Spring better come early,Just as the groundhog told.I can’t go swimming on ice,Can’t kick a soccer ball on snow,I pray spring will arrive soon,But all signs point to no.I miss the plants and trees,And riding my bike through town,I want so badly for spring to come,I think to myself as the snow falls down.I’m tired of shorts days and low temperatures,

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That groundhog is nothing but a liar,He said that spring would come six weeks early,But the thermometer hasn’t gone any higher.I’ve become bored with snowballs and sledding,The snow looks like it will stay,I enjoy warm weather much more,Why can’t winter just go away?

Pretty close to what a lot of us feel about spring, right?

At first, when you started writing and sharing it was hard to get

you to change what you had written. Over and over I heard in

conferences at either the computer or at my desk “It’s what I

wrote, it’s perfect the way it is!”

Or some of you took editing and critique meant to improve

the piece as a personal slur, that somehow since the writing wasn’t

perfect the first time then it was an insult against you as a human

and because I thought the piece needed a lot of work, somehow I

thought horrible things about you as a person. Well, for some of

you that was true, but for the most part it wasn’t.

The shift from becoming students to writers is best illustrated in a

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conversation I had with Jackie one day. She brought me a poem

she diligently edited it over and over. I read it at my desk and

thought it was an excellent piece of work. However, the last line

needed some serious attention. It was jarring and didn’t fit with the

rest of the piece. So I told her:

“Jackie, it’s great but that last line has to go…”

Nervously I waited for her response. She chewed her pencil,

furrowed her brow and then said:

“Yeah, I know it sucked, but I wanted another opinion…” and

that’s when she made the move from being a student to a writer,

she had seen something that needed to change, but it wasn’t abouther, just about the piece. She made the shift just as you are all now

making the change from being a student to an adult realizing that

the world isn’t all personal—but it’s filled with it’s own little

victories and challenges that give it meaning.

You as a class always maintained a certain sense of fun, a joy

to life that was rare to see in high school. I don’t know if it was

because you were isolated from the influences of society or the fact

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that you just didn’t care, but the world-weary cynicism and apathy

found in other teenagers was lacking, or at least lacking when I

knew you. I could always count on Allyson for her dry humor that

was at first surprising but then something to look forward to. I’d

hear in my head before it was voiced, Kaitlyn whining about doing

an assignment as being “too hard,” or “too long,” or “I have

practice,” “do I have to do it?”, until I could say the words along

with her. Somehow they always got done despite the whining. Jace

would always bemoan his fates in life while TJ and Liam would

look at him and laugh at him knowing the truth was much better.

Dylan takes the award for the most interesting event in aschool for your class. Once, while looking for his homework at the

bottom of his bag, he instead found a sandwich from some weeks

ago. “Oh,” he said. “That’s where that went to. Probably isn’t

good, right?” Who forgets a sandwich in a backpack for a day,

much less weeks? I’m old and I always know where my food

sources are! Who can forget their lunch and not notice their bag

getting a bit ripe over time? Only Dylan could and it never seemed

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to bother him that his bag smelled worse than the cafeteria garbage

container.

Each one of you created moments, spaces in time that we all

have within our memories. Some of them are funny, and shared

over and over with each other and some were inside jokes that only

members of this class would understand and not share with anyone

else but each other. Those jokes, experiences and dreams are what

make you special—unique and cool in your own ways.

We used to have a tradition in our times together where I

would predict the future—mostly in jest, but with underpinnings of

hope that no matter what you choose to do in life, you’ve decidedto be there, made the conscious decision that this is right thing for

who you are and your desires. Don’t settle for anything as you’ve

got one chance to be something special, something extraordinary

and something different out there. You’re already so special to me

as a class of thugs and as individual punks so share that with others

in your life no matter who that may be.

So, here is where you will be for the 10 th reunion:

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♦ Gus, good luck in the Great Wall of China Tour business.

♦ Matt, Your performance art career in LA will be taking off though the

mime phase is best not mentioned.

♦ Collin, you’ll be recovering from your 20 th broken bone in the X

games.

♦ Jace , with 22 kids and counting, the reality show you star in will

finally take off.

♦ Caitlin, coaching boys basketball at Pitt is going to be a challenge.

♦ Missy, the world needs more casino owners like you.

♦ Raul, you’ll think this is all a dream.

♦ Harlan, that actually Ambassador Harlan to you, of the US Consulate

in Lesotho

♦ Kayla Merrill, MD will be practicing on Mondays, Wednesdays and

Fridays in Pittsfield.

♦ Danielle, will fulfill her lifelong dream and solo sail around the world.

♦ Allyson will make a lot of money but it’s unclear whether it’s legal or

not.

♦ Jackie will be in charge of a pit crew on the NASCAR circuit.

♦ TJ will own a successful chain of comic book stores in the south.

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♦ Hugh will be managing the Mall of America from his Segway.

♦ Tyler will have his own cooking show after winning “The Next Food

Network Star”

♦ Dylan will be living in NYC and reviewing books for the NY Times.

♦ Sam will be flying the red eye as pilot between London and Boston.

♦ Sheena will be training for the mission to Mars just to get away from

Rochester

♦ Danielle V. will settle in Idaho and turn out a string of successful rom-

com movies.

♦ Crystal will own most of this valley, so you’d better start being nice to

her, now!

Sorry for skipping the part in the speech where I’m supposed

to extol you to do great things, remember where your roots are and

keep in touch with each other. Consider that done, so do all of

those things, ok? Oh, and make sure you wave people out in

traffic, let pedestrians cross the street in the crosswalks, take off

your hat when you enter buildings, send thank you notes to people

who give you gifts and write your mom and dad letters.

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This past May, as many of you know, I lost my last parent to

cancer. When my brother and I were back at the family homestead

on Lake Chautauqua I found a box with my name on it. In there

was every letter I had written my mom and my dad when I was in

college. They had saved every scrap that I had sent them. Some

day I’ll work up the courage to read them—too soon now, too

close and too painful. But, give your parents that gift, that tangible

symbol of connection and thought that captures who you are in that

moment, encapsulates what you feel and experience on that date.

Parents, if they do write you, save those letters, thoughts and words

—they’ll grow in value over time beyond any worth of an email or text.

In February one of my favorite poets, Lucille Clifton died.

We went to the same high school in Buffalo, though for her it was

Fosdick Masten High, and for me it was City Honors. She had a

way with words that got to the heart of what she wrote about. Here

is one of my favorite poems by her.

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it was a dream by Lucille Clifton

in which my greater self

rose up before me

accusing me of my life

with her extra finger

whirling in a gyre of rage

at what my days had come to.

what,

i pleaded with her, could i do,

oh what could i have done?

and she twisted her wild hair

and sparked her wild eyes

and screamed as long as

i could hear her

This. This. This.

Have a wonderful graduation. Thank you again for having me here

—it was indeed an honor to see you all grow’d up and moving on

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http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/79

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/79



in the world. Do Rocheddar, yourselves and your friends proud---

we know you won’t let us down.

Good night.

Thank You So Much for Having Me Her Tonight

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