WWW.MERIDIANSTAR.COM • LAMAR HIGH SCHOOL • GRADUATION 2020 • 37
ISABELLA DURGIN
Salutatorian
Good evening. I’m so, so grateful to see everyone here on this
monumental day. I cannot think of a more cliché way to begin
this, but wow. What a year. We’ve all weathered this storm
together, both celebrated the idea of being able to stay in bed
all day and mourned the loss of our last nine weeks as seniors.
But honestly, think of all the other memories we did make, all
the other nine weeks we thought would never end. Some of us
have been together since the beginning, running around the
playground for games of kickball and cops and robbers, Then,
we went across the street to middle school, trading our recess
for the new, elusive “Break.” Even though we were older, we
still clumped together, our whole grade only sitting at two tables
— one for boys and the other for girls, of course. We began to
find our footing in real school sports, whether that was in golf,
tennis, cross country, soccer, and more. Our sense of community
began to grow as we prepared to move buildings once again, but
we still squeezed on those lunch table benches. Despite the silly
drama, or even the sheer amount of bodies, we never left anyone
out.
And then, high school. High school was pretty wonderful. We
went from the kids in the student section jumping on the bendy
wooden benches to cheering in the metal bleachers before us
now. We went from those back locker rooms in the old gym
playing hide-and-go-seek in the dark and throwing pencils and
bottles across the rooms through the crack near the ceiling,
to having late night cheer practices, early morning workouts in
the field house, or basketball practices that ate up the whole
afternoon. We went from Survivor Day to (sometimes) surviving
Mrs. Skipper’s and Mrs. Davis’s tests. We traveled from DC to
Chicago to Spain and to Boston. Even in the moments not spent
in the city, we still bonded, like in the flooded DC bus where
everyone called Tim “Gucci” for a week, when Khadijah made
everyone’s soul leave their bodies for her Chicago April Fools’
prank, or even in the hours we spent wandering the airports
together. We went to our first night at Sonic, our first Leadout, our first Egg War, our first Hangout, our first camp-out. Through it all,
we only grew closer. We became a tightly-knit family, holding each other up from the beginning to today.
We wouldn’t be here, though, without all the special moments with the teachers that made high school so special. We got to
celebrate Mr. Alexanders’ last year, not once, but twice. We had snakes with Mr. Little and kittens with Ms. Cookie, “Phineas
and Ferb” with Mr. Henson and basketball games with Mr. Daniels. We had Mrs. Westbrook guide us through confusing college
applications. We had Mr. Braiser, Mrs. Dulaney, Coach Nelson, and Mrs. Ballou watch over us. And we were somehow lucky enough
to have Mrs. Dye welcome us into High School and now see us out of it, gently easing us into the unknown both times.
Before we left for Spring Break, Khadijah’s countdown for graduation on the library board read “59 Days Until Happiness.” Well
everyone, here’s happiness. We’re here. We’re on the same field we ran around as kids dressed up as cheerleaders and football
players, the same field where we played football and danced on the sidelines, the same field where we clung to the fence watching
the Homecoming Court go by, the same field that sums up everything high school. Now, we’re no longer watching. We’re the ones
standing in caps and gowns, both excited and anxious and sad. I know most of us have never been the ones to be upset about going
to college, but something about the end of senior year brings out the heartbreak in everyone, myself included. It’s bittersweet to
say goodbye to all those memories as we’re about to begin our lives. But I am so unbelievably proud of all of us, and I know we all
will live up to our name, to the expectations set before us — by others and by ourselves. Class of 2020, our countdown is over. We
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