| | Before I begin, I believe that there is someone out there who wants to be principal. Is-is the committee lagging behind or something? (searches for help) I mean, the position seems to be open (nervous chuckle) every year. You'd think (lowers head and voice) the committee would do something...
Honored guests, teachers, parents, family members, school board officials, fellow students, and (takes a deep breath) fellow grads, let us all begin the last trek home...
Now I'm not up here to talk about some principal; I'm up here to historian your four years--what? "Historian" isn't a verb?--I'm up here to document your uh... (strains to read) one-dur-full four years here at No-well high. I'm sorry, Lowell High. It's been four great years, four years that I can safely say you'll never get back, but you have also gained so much... to a certain extent. I mean, think about it, when you're as old as any of these guys behind me, you'd want to gloat about the fact that we had an imaginary swimming pool on our imaginary fourth floor to the youngsters on the twenty-nine bus going to SI because they actually have one. And remember all that stuff you learned in AP World and Euro that you remember but still don't quite understand? You can totally be like all Zheng He and impress everyone with your massive U-boats and astrolabes and square sails knowledge, and everyone will all be like, "Whoa, you be mad Ming Dynastyin'! YO!" or whatever (flails hands).
It all began on one sweet day in August, days before school actually started. A ceremony for incoming freshmen, and then came the orientation. After the traumatic hazing, we were ushered into a cut-throat atmosphere where friends are friendly enemies and enemies are frenemies. We eventually settled into our niches, our posse, if you will, and school went on even though our rally skit sucked.
Then came sophomore year, our fun year! We thought about the APs, ACTs, SATs, CIAs, ABCs, FBIs, CAHSEEs, but rarely about social L-I-F-E. I myself took the SATs this year and scored a (enunciating) twenty-four (pause). Hey, I was proud. And then most of us took a foreign language because we know the future of business is outsourcing. dan shi what we aprendido from diese schone institution is gimongaarimasu. wo men zhen shi yao hui shuo ne me duo yu yan ma? ¿Viajaremos realmente nosotros a España? Ich will Hitler Babys nicht treffen! Ano... watashi wa nihongo ga dekimasen. ...Look it up.
THEN junior year wheeled around and keeled over an old lady, and that sweet old lady is named Intellect. Situations become dire as people invested their blood, sweat, tears, money, and all to none other than THE JUNIOR PROM! I have but a small anecdote for prom or, as I like to call it MORP: It was a big excuse to see who
can spend the most money and who can dress up the prettiest in a dress.
Considering how our dress codes are (sarcastic) so strict that they don't permit
dresses to be worn at school, I guess it was a good way to express
one's gaudiness and how well one can twist that to seem more romantic
than uh... what's the word? cheap. Was it worth the time and money? I guess not, but will I
ever admit it? No. It was a god damn magical night, and generations
after me shall follow the trend of truthiness. They shall see what I
convinced myself to see. Morp is a
backwards word and world there that I still don't quite understand, but, for
the sake of argument, I'm going to say that I do. But junior year wasn't all that bad; most of us got rid of the burden we call Intellect. By this third year, we've been numbed, institutionalized, to the work that is the work for the sake of working, grades for the sake of grades, knowledge for the sake of knowledge. (wags finger to audience and to self) I can point to each and every one of you because you're all victims of such a process. We learn not to improve ourselves as people but ourselves as careers, jobs, money. Was it worth the time and money? I know it's a no, but will I ever admit it? No. It was a god damn wonderful four years, and generations after me shall follow the trend of truthiness. They shall see what they (points to people on stage) convinced me to see.
(calmer) Finally, the end comes, and we're all gathered here, in a holy matrimony, to wed ourselves to our diplomas. Senior year has taught us much--mainly how to cope with rejections and failure. The coping mechanisms we gleaned from psychology has helped immensely, but they weren't enough, which is why we're here to make it all better. Class of 2008, hug your diplomas and hold them well. Once we step out that door, it's a whole new world, and you'll be damn glad you can at least graduate from Lowell High.
Lines are crossed, but those are my thoughts put in humorous light. |
| | Posted 4/25/2007 11:29 PM - 34 Views - 4 eProps - 5 comments
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