Since coming back home for the summer, I’ve recently visited my old high school a couple of times and it was strange to feel slightly off-center in a building that I used to be so familiar with. It’s one thing to realize that time changes the way you think about or remember a place or a person, but it’s another to actually feel it in the present moment, as I did when I walked through those halls. Old memories were sparked and funny stories were exchanged as my friends and I saw the new building expansion project taking over our old school, but whether it was when I saw the gray new interior that covered up the skylight, the lovely blacked out immature graffiti courtesy of the class of 2016 mural, the filled in glass classes, the teachers that sat in the same old desks, the new little faces I didn’t recognize wandering about, or maybe the casual fact that they were going to knock down one of the walls as soon as we cleared the building, there was a feeling I couldn’t place my finger on at the time of letting go.

It reminded me of graduation last year, that feeling of shiny possibility that suddenly emerges as you realize you’re really holding the diploma that marks the end of an era. One of my favorite parts of the ceremony though was listening to the three students chosen to speak at commencement. The previous two years, sitting with my clarinet on my lap as a part of the combined orchestra, I had heard the speeches that inspired me to grow not only as a student, but as a person (quite literally, thanks to puberty!) and in my opinion, these were the voices of the student body that truly reflected our high school experience.

The spring of my senior year, I tried out to speak at commencement. It meant so much to me at the time to see how far I had come since freshman year, standing there at the podium, and getting the chance to repay my high school by telling our collective story to some of the administrators within our district. Although I was upset at the time when my speech didn’t get picked, along with other speeches that I thought were fantastic and really genuine, I now realize that opportunity arises in funny ways, and at some point we’ll all have shared how our high school experiences impacted us so greatly -- simply through all the things we are able to accomplish afterwards.

For the sake of me finally closing the yearbook (I know, it’s about time!), I thought it would be fun to share the commencement speech I wrote as a senior. Although I went to the same large public high school in Omaha, Nebraska for four years, and it probably was not the same experience you had, I hope that it reminds you of the crazy, life-changing adventure high school possibly was for you and thousands of other people around the world.

“Change is inevitable.

Now, that doesn’t mean it’s easy. I’ll be the first to contest to that. Moving around while growing up has always been a struggle for me. New town, new faces -- doesn’t exactly spark the desire to make a connection with my location. But I remember hearing my parents say that high school would be different. They’d do anything to make sure I got a stable four years of solid education. And suddenly, Millard North was open for business as a place in my heart.

And I think I’m safe in saying that this building has been that second home for many. From late night rehearsals to early morning practices, and the long hours in the classroom in between, these brick walls have never wavered. Through these halls, we have walked, from day one freshman year, with that awkward growth spurt, bad haircut, and immature humor, through senior year, stumbling in late, still a bit clueless about life… and immature humor.

The reflections in the glass cases stood silently by, knowingly watching as we made mistakes, lots of mistakes, yet also trusting in our growth. Soon enough the windows glinted in shining smile as we made our first accomplishments, however small. We’ve been molded and supported by this steadfast building, a constant in our ever changing lives. We’ve been under construction, with the gears in our brains turning, we’ve suddenly been knocked down with moments of failure and vulnerability, built back up with layers of friendship and support from family and teachers, plastered with crazy ideas from our fellow hormonal teenagers, and painted over with wisdom to carry us through the future.

Whether it’s been for four long years, or simply a couple of months, this building has meant something to every student that has passed through it. And it really is crazy to think that we’ve each had our own unique experience through high school, yet every single one of these experiences has also started under the same roof.

But now, it’s Millard North’s turn to be under construction.

When we come back to visit, everything will be different. The building that has been our rock is now getting a makeover. It’s like that moment in a Disney movie where the ugly duckling girl takes off her glasses and she suddenly becomes this supermodel that everybody is jealous of, but really, you secretly know that the girl was pretty all along, but for some reason the rest of the world was oblivious. Except I guess in this case it’ll take a couple jackhammers to get the glasses off, and we’re talking about brick mortar and not a new wardrobe. Terrible metaphor set aside, just the same, when all this construction is finally over, and the building has a pretty new entryway to show off, the dust that gets swept away will never fully erase what makes this building beautiful for us: the memories.

That’s not to say we’re done growing. We’re still under construction, and we’ve still got so much time to explore and grow and learn. But this phase of our life is coming to a close. Soon, this building will open its arms to a whole new class who will remember it for something we never will. As we leave to go off to college, new jobs, and new places, people will go, and people will stay. This building is just a reminder that change is inevitable. The not knowing what the future holds can be unbearable at times, and this building has taught me that change isn’t easy, but it’s also taught me that in the end, looking back, it is always worth it.”