As a hurdler for County High, I stumble upon some pretty tough obstacles each time I race; the same is true in life. Everyone encounters obstacles, but in order to overcome them and succeed, one must never give up.
I love to run hurdles, but unfortunately last year, little pulls and strains prevented me from running to my full potential. One Thursday, we had a home track meet against Lake Stevens. For the first time I was in pretty good shape for my race, the 100-meter hurdles. I began jumping up and down partially to stay warm, and partially to let out some of my excitement. By this time, I had butterflies in my stomach and the adrenaline was pumping. The starter asked us to 'Take your sweats off and stand behind your blocks.' 'Runners take your marks.' Hands shaking, I crouched into the starting blocks. The gun was up. 'Set!' 'Bang!' I bolted out of the blocks. I was way ahead of the other girls when suddenly, I realized I didn't have enough speed to carry me over the next hurdle. Gathering all of the strength I could, I grabbed at the air in hopes of guaranteeing clearance. I had just brushed over the wood when my foot hit the ground and my ankle gave out. I fell. I heard a gasp from the crowd and the other racers' feet pounding past me. I got back up. I had never gone over a hurdle with my right leg first, but I did after that fall. Sprinting as fast as I could in between hurdles, I found myself basically bunny hopping over the rest of them. My goal was to cross that finish line and to be able to say that I did the very best that I could, even if I didn't look very graceful along the way. Although it might have seemed like a bad day, I was proud. It was the first time I had ever fallen in a race, and not only did I get back up and keep running, I managed to place second.
Sometimes you encounter hurdles in life - sometimes you have to adapt and alter your normal routine to clear them. Then there are times you fall; the people surrounding you may gasp - they had been rooting for you. But they haven't given up on you-it's now more than ever that they want you to succeed - it's human nature to want the underdog to come from behind.
Good evening family, friends, teachers and fellow graduates. This special night marks our achievement over the past thirteen years. Tonight we come to the top of a mountain in our lives and look ahead to the numerous more to come. It seems like just yesterday we were eighth graders in middle school, wishing we were twelfth graders in high school. (You have to remember that back then we didn't know if a freshman meant you were in twelfth grade or if a junior meant you were in ninth.) We've definitely come a long way to be where we are today. Being students at Wilson, "The School of Pride," has helped us all with our climb over Mt. Education. Learning the basics to climb Mt. Education didn't just start in high school; it began a long, long time ago. Our first experience with the climb started out in our six years of base camp, formally known as elementary school. The next stage in our climb was when we were able to climb the part of the mountain with the gentle slope. The smooth slope of the mountain took us a whole three years to accomplish. As you have probably guessed, the gentle slope was middle school. These were the steps we took to get to our third stage in our climb of reaching the peak of Mt. Education, also known as high school.
Class of 2012, we've finally made it, but not without the help of our parents, teachers and mentors along the way. Maybe what they did for us was that they were a good rudder and we're the ship, and they got us to the sea where we remember who we are. Because we all get in that fog, where we forget who we are or what we're about, we get overwhelmed. I mean I've been there plenty of times in my life. But we're not going to remember most of our lives until the end. But we will remember certain moments. Maybe it's our first 4.0 report card, maybe it's our first 100 percent biology test, maybe it's our first homerun, our first touchdown. Whatever it may be, it will stay with us forever. Many of us have been together through elementary, middle and high school, and we have all had to work hard and remain focused to be where we are today. All change happens in a minute. Your life changes in a moment. Something triggers you and you finally make a decision and it all shifts. As years go by, your body is going to change, your relationships are going to change, your attitude is going to change. Change is automatic, but progress is not. Our progress has brought us here tonight, and tonight will become one of those moments that we will cherish forever.
To the County High School Class of 2012: As you sit in front of me, I know what most of you are thinking at the moment. There are those who are already pondering about what life without high school will be like; those who are debating whether or not to tell your crush tonight about your whispers of adoration you’ve secretly held for four years; some simply want to get out of that ungodly chair, get that thing that isn’t really a diploma but only tells you when to pick up the thing, and then be the first one on the green bus to the grad party — you know who you are. And the rest, well, the rest aren’t even paying attention, you’re thinking, “Great, here comes one of the valedictorian speakers. Next up: a boring speech straight out of the pits of scholarly hell.” And it’s OK, I don’t mind — that sort of thing comes with the territory. But tonight, I ask that you give me a chance to break that stereotype so that I may address you in the full splendor that you deserve after 13 grueling years of work. I do not want to be known as your “valedictorian” as I stand here, c’mon guys, there is no time left to place labels on people anymore, instead I ask that you accept me as one of your peers — and as a man who will enjoy becoming a graduate alongside you.
Over the past four years, we have grown from insecure, immature freshmen to successful, focused and confident young adults. This incredible transformation has been the result of our entire high school experience. Everything from that first homecoming game, to late night cramming, to the last dance at prom. These experiences have pulled us together as a class and we have learned to love and respect our fellow classmates.
No amount of education can completely prepare us for the world that lies ahead of us. Because it presents many unknowns, it is exciting yet at the same time frightening. I know that there are still so many things that can only be learned through experience; a challenge with which we will soon all be faced. I would like to read a letter written by a woman by the name of Avril Johannes which was published in the book "Chicken Soup For the Soul." She writes this letter to the world upon her son's and his classmates' graduation and it relates some of these same ideas.
South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu wrote, "You are a very special person - become what you are." These words encourage us, the graduating class of 2012, to recognize the goodness and potential in each and every one of us and to go out and excel in the world. We are a diverse group of different aspirations and backgrounds, bound for different corners of the earth to carve out our won individual niches. Before we leave behind Lee Falls High School and each other, we must ask ourselves how we have become who we are.
When I was in elementary school, I loved to read. I was a total nerd back then ... okay maybe I still am, but one thing has changed. Now I don't so much like reading. My favorite poet was Shel Silverstein, who wrote "Where the Sidewalk Ends." He seemed like he was a total hippie, but that's cool because I like hippies. My grandma is a recovering hippie. I like her too. Anyway, Shel Silverstein wrote about the coolest things. He wrote about magical erasers, eating whales and a boy with long hair flying away from people who were taunting him. He captured all of the things that I loved without knowing that I actually loved them. Now you may ask, how does this hippie relate to our graduation? Well, he wrote a poem entitled "Traffic Light" and this is how it goes:
I would wake up every morning and run, always thinking about my regimen, and always using every mile as inspiration for the end goal: qualification for the State Finals in November. I ran 600 miles that summer. Inexplicably, though, I fell off towards the end of that season. At the conference meet I struggled to finish, and at the regional meet (the state-qualifier meet), I had to drop out. I remember getting in my parent’s car for the long drive home and closing my eyes and finally letting it all out. Warm tears fell down my face. How could this happen to me? I thought. Whatever happened to the saying “hard work pays off,” that is preached by the famous athletes and teachers? I had worked incredibly hard, and I was sitting in our car after a race in which I was unable to finish. Here is an example of one of the low lows of a runner. This was probably the lowest of lows for me. But two weeks later, after the fervor of cross country was over, I was running again. No one told me to, it was simply the resilience of a runner that was hard-wired inside of me. That winter and then later that spring, I qualified for both the indoor and outdoor state finals for track. And the next year, I was able to qualify and compete in the finals for cross-country. That is the amazing thing about running, and about life. Failure is always happening at inopportune times,
When I was chosen to speak tonight, I thought that as a track athlete it would be appropriate to compare life to a race. Life is a race, a race to each milestone in our lives.
The start of the 2002 track season found me concerned with how I would perform. After a disastrous bout with mononucleosis ended my freshmen track season, the fear of failure weighed heavily on my mind. I set a goal for myself in order to maintain focus and to push myself like nothing else would. My goal for my sophomore track season was to become a state champion in the 100 meter hurdles. I worked hard everyday at practice and went the extra mile, like running every Sunday, to be just that much closer to reaching my goal. The thought of standing highest on the podium in the center of the field, surrounded by hundreds of spectators, overcame my thoughts of complaining every time we had a hard workout. When I closed my eyes, I pictured myself waiting in anticipation as other competitors names were called out, one by one, until finally, the booming voice announced over the loudspeaker, "...and in first place, your 2002 100 meter hurdle champion, from Hotchkiss, Connie Dawson." It was visions like these that drove me to work harder everyday.
Facing obstacles and struggles is inevitable. Regardless of what they may be, we all have the choice to learn and grow, or back down and fail. I am bound to face many experiences in life that may leave me feeling defeated and discouraged. Reflecting on the endeavors I have successfully executed; it is important to consider the endeavors I grappled with.
Robert Brault once said “where the loser saw barriers, the winner saw hurdles”. Ever since my junior year of high school this has been my modus operates in life and sports. My main event in Track and Field is the 300 meter, you guessed it, hurdles. However, simply devoting myself to live by this “code” was not enough; actions spoke louder than words in May 2015 when, leading my heat of the race, I clipped my trail leg on the second to last hurdle and was forced down into the track at 20 mph. I didn’t get up, I laid on the track in a ball of self-loathing, anger, and pain. I never finished that race, and to this day that is one of my only regrets.
What do you want to be when you grow up? The dreams of our youth often become the challenges of today and the challenges of today often become the blueprints of our future.
Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Sitting in the backseat of the car, I used to bombard my family with these questions. On our summer road trips I was so anxious for the destination that I failed to appreciate the journey. However, as time passed and I grew older, I realized that it was the journey that was important and not the destination.
To begin something new, you must sacrifice something old. To enter the real world, you must graduate your childhood.