Senior Year: Graduation

It was a bright and sunny day on June 20, 2012.

Actually, it was really bright and really sunny.

And hot.

Oh man, was it hot.

A group of very anxious seniors sat in the air-conditioned RHS auditorium as we listened for our instructions on how to proceed with graduation rehearsal. There was definitely excitement in the air as the administrators tried their best to quiet us down so they could give us some information about the upcoming evening.

Finally, we were shuffled into the non-air-conditioned gym where we were lined up alphabetically. It was warm, but it wasn’t awful. Then again, putting more than 200 kids in a small gym together isn’t necessarily the best idea. Our voices echoed off the walls as Ms. Marinan blew a whistle a few times — a sound I am quite familiar with, as she has been my volleyball coach for the past four years in the same gym.

Once she got us quiet enough to tell us where to go, it was time. We walked down the halls, laughing and joking with each other, and slowly entered the courtyard.

The heat hit me so hard I thought I was going to melt on the spot.

We filed into our rows and I was in the very front, which totally ruined my plans of trying to sneak in a mini fan to use while hiding behind other graduates' heads. I’m not going to say the heat was unbearable, but, let’s just say my legs stuck to my chair a few times. There were complaints being shouted out every second, from, “I’m going to die” to “can we please go home now?”

We managed to get through the entire rehearsal with only one person passing out (she was OK, don’t worry!), but I began to get worried about the actual ceremony. With everyone’s families and friends there, I was sure there’d be multiple people fainting or becoming dehydrated. Apparently, the town of Vernon thought so, too.

We probably could have filled an entire landfill on our own with all of the water bottles we used that night. Between the bottles that the students brought with them, the bottles being handed out to the crowd, and the bottles being handed out to the graduates, there were hundreds of them. There were ambulances, fire trucks, and medics on hand, and the school was open and air conditioned for anyone who needed to escape the heat. The temperature had already reached the mid-90s, and I was dying in just my dress, let alone my cap and gown.

I was one of the first ones in the gym that night, and I made sure to enjoy the only slightly above-average temperature of it. As more seniors filed in, it got hotter and hotter. We were grabbing groups of friends, taking pictures, and sweating. I felt awful for the boys, because even with the heat they were still instructed to wear a shirt, tie, dress pants, and dress shoes. The time ticked on and slowly everyone started putting on their caps and their gowns. It all started getting real as we were once again shuffled into our alphabetical-order lines, more excited and hot than ever. Filing out of the gym, everyone cheered and clapped because the moment we had anticipated for four years was only minutes away.

As I took my first step into the courtyard with “Pomp and Circumstance” playing, everything felt extremely… average. I expected to tear up seeing all of those people holding cameras and video cameras in my face. Really, though, I was more focused on trying not to fall in my heels or worrying about sweating through my gown. I stumbled once on my way to my seat but managed to get there in one piece. I looked out at the crowd and I smiled. While I wasn’t crying my eyes out, I was content. I was finally graduating.

But it was so freaking hot.

I can’t even begin to explain how uncomfortably hot it was. Like I said, I didn’t want to be rude by whipping out my mini fan in the front row and using it during the ceremony, so instead I slipped it to my friends in the row behind me and asked them to fan the back of my neck when necessary. Throughout the ceremony I chuckled as I heard the fan being passed up and down the row behind me with a few whispers of “I’m in love with whoever brought this.”

The valedictorian, salutatorian, and Student Council president are three of my best friends, and it was so hard for me not to read their speeches ahead of time. I wanted the first time I heard them to be at graduation, and I’m glad that I did.

While they all had different themes and topics, each one discussed our class of underdogs. For years the class of 2012 has been frowned upon and feared. Teachers would always warn other teachers about our class before we moved up a grade. We were always the ones that no one wanted to have.

As class president/salutatorian Jenny said, we never were the class that raised the most amount of money or attended the most activities. But we managed to thrive even with the reputation. We have students in our class that have accomplished amazing things. Chelsea, the valedictorian of our class (and my best friend, might I add) wrote an amazing essay that led RHS to receive a $20,000 grant from CL&P, and she scored herself a full ride to UConn. Jenny singlehandedly ran every RHS talent show, play, and production in the past few years while being recognized nationally in two different student athlete competitions. We’ve had students win national creative writing and art awards, letter in three different varsity sports in a given year, and we even had one student lead the softball team to its first state title in RHS history. We have students going to Boston, New York, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, and even Kentucky for college next year. We have a few future Marines and soldiers in our midst. And, as Chelsea said in her speech, we even have a few possible reality TV stars.

As the names were being called and the students proceeded to get their diplomas, everyone was visibly jumpy. Personally, I was looking forward to the breeze I would get just from walking around that circle with my diploma. My name was called by assistant principal Mr. Gusy and I approached the administration. I shook each person’s hand with a smile and a “thank you,” and then I got to Mr. Baim.

I don’t think anyone understands how much I love Mr. Baim. He is the best principal I could have ever asked for, and he was one of the only people I knew that didn’t fear our class. He was strong and strict when he needed to be, but always open and helpful and loving. I had been telling him for weeks that I was going to hug him when I got my diploma, and I didn’t let the heat prevent that. He held open his arms and for the first time that night I felt the sadness I had expected. I don’t know how I’m going to get by without his support next year, but it’s definitely not going to be easy.

When Jenny stood on her chair and led us all as we flipped our tassels to the left, I tried my best to soak in the moment. To me, that was kind of the big in-your-face to all of those teachers and students who doubted us. All of those people who turned their tassels are off to do fantastic things with their lives, myself included. We all realized this, which led to the celebratory toss of the caps (which, by the way, I am thrilled that we did. Classes in the past haven’t).  I’m so incredibly proud of everyone, and it’s difficult to put it into words. Shannon stressed in her speech how we are all individuals and how we should never let numbers define us, and I completely agree with her. However, at the same time, I’ll always think of my class as a group. So many of us are friends, and I almost feel that we’re more individualized when we’re together as a group, if that makes any sense. I’ll always remember us as a group. We are the class of 2012. And now we’re done.

And there you have it. I can’t say it feels any different to a graduate than it did before. It hasn’t even completely sunk in for me yet, and it probably won’t until I move into my dorm at RWU. I guess I’ll sign off senior year and this ridiculously lengthy blog post by thanking a few people:

• My family—parents, especially—for having faith in everything I’ve done and helping me realize that I’m not perfect, nor will I ever be.

• My friends for accepting my weirdness and helping me accept it myself.

• Mrs. Nordlund for tolerating me, my writing, and my horrible attempts at poetry for the past three years.

• Ms. Matyseck for teaching the best English class/group therapy sessions I’ve ever been a part of.

• Mrs. McTighe for pushing me to be my best by trusting me with responsibilities I didn’t even know I could handle.

• Coach Marinan for not only teaching me how to play volleyball, but also how to be a team player and a leader.

• Mr. Baim for all of the reasons I mentioned before, and also for tolerating me and my antics.

• Rockville High School for not eating me alive.

• The Class of 2012 for the ups, downs, and everything in between.

Rockville High School - it’s been real. I can check you off my bucket list. Next stop: Roger Williams University.

Peace out, Girl Scout.