Charge to the Cannon Class of 2020

Good morning graduates, parents, faculty, and friends. I’d like to begin by thanking everyone involved in putting together last night’s virtual senior night, especially Griffin Jones. Yes, I do feel honored to be in the presence of the class of 2020, and no, I haven’t cried that hard in a while.

I’ve no doubt that this is not remotely the commencement you were expecting. I won’t go on about what it was supposed to be, because that will just make us all sad and, well, as my Dad likes to say, it is what it is. However, something I say to my students each year before their AP exam seems especially apt for this occasion. I tell them (and told many of you) that you should not let one morning or afternoon of your life affirm or deny a year’s worth of work in the class. And so I’ll say to you now, although what we’re currently going through will no doubt partially define your generation, do not let one global pandemic altering the end of your senior year deny the fourteen years of hard work, studying, friendship, collaborating, love and learning that brought you to your beloved campus this morning. 

I’m sure you’ve all seen endless stories and posts on the internet and social media comparing this current situation in which we find ourselves with previous versions of plague and its consequences: the black death, the Spanish Flu Epidemic of 1918 (fun fact: it was called the Spanish Flu because during the First World War Spain was neutral, and so it was one of the few countries reporting about it in their uncensored media – sorry, once a history teacher, always a history teacher) and how it led to things like the Renaissance or the Roaring 20s. We don’t know yet what these extraordinary times will bring. I received a note from a Cannon alum earlier this week (class of 2014) telling me that she prefers to learn about events like this, not live through them, thank you very much, but sadly that is not a choice any of us has right now. As with any difficult situation beyond our control, the only thing we can control is our reaction to it. 

So yes, you and your families and teachers and friends are sad. And angry! You’ve been cheated out of all the things you were due as seniors: the Day Away at Carowinds, a Senior Breakfast and prom that you know would have been amazing because it would be planned by now-doctor Eury, the Day that Shall Not be Named, Senior Night, the end of a sports season on the mound or field. And instead you’re sitting in your cars listening to my voice through the radio (which, I’m not going to lie, I’ve always wanted to be on the radio, but this isn’t about me). So let’s take a moment to recognize and embrace that you have suffered loss. You did not get what you deserved, you did not get what those before you and hopefully those after you did and will. You are the class of 2020, and you have every right to grieve those losses, felt by your peers across the country, and your teachers, families and friends right here, right now.

And so as a history teacher, I ask for us all the gift of time. The disappointment, sadness, and anger you may be feeling right now will eventually be replaced with your resilience. Just as the resentment and grief of loss, with the healing power of time, will hopefully be replaced with cherished memories of what you did have: health. Safety. Time with family. And, if you’re like me, more sleep. And then there’s everything you had before we transitioned to that somewhat surreal two-month period we call ‘emergency remote learning’: your time, however long or short, in which you have been a member of this family we call the Cannon Community. Many of you saw this campus grow and change around you during your time here into a dynamic place with not one, but two maker spaces, 3-D printers, a field house, the CPAC, and on and on. You saw the transition from one head of school to another. You had the loving, guiding hand of Mrs. Otey at the helm, steering our ship, this time not just as our fearless leader, but also as a parent of one of our very own Cannon graduates of the class of 2020. Depending on how long you’ve been here, you may have taken your first road test in a cardboard box that dangled from your shoulders. You learned your states in third grade, and you may have portrayed an important American in the fourth-grade living museum. You crafted an idea to make the world better in your seventh-grade innovations project. You presented your Cornerstone and worked towards your Capstone. In the Upper School, you had Outward Bound and Boston. All the while, you had teachers who bored you and teachers who adored you. House games and a basketball championship. Homecoming and Halfway There. Advisory Activities that you may or may not have done. APs that turned into ATs. Project Wrap-in, Parking in senior parking when you were a junior. Juniors daring to park in senior parking when you were a senior. Signing out for senior lunches under the ever-watchful eye of Dean Booker. Swim meets and soccer games, football with both Cougars and Warriors, softball championships, big cookie day in the cafeteria. When you reminisce about your youth to your children and grandchildren, this ceremony and the time around it will be important, yes, but will not carry the weight of all that came before, and all that is sure to come after in your hopefully very long, happy, healthy lives. 

This is not what any of us was expecting. But hear this: there is no one better prepared for an historic moment than you. Yes, you may prefer to study history than live through it, but like it or not, you are living through it. We all are. And it is profoundly changing our way of life. Know that I’m not going to, as part of this charge, issue you the challenge of solving this problem. I won’t put that mantle on your shoulders, it isn’t fair. But I will say this, as many of you know, I tend to write a lot of letters of recommendation each year. I take this task very seriously, as I recognize the responsibility to be able to support each of you as you aspire towards your own dreams and futures. When I write, I focus on three adjectives to describe each of you. So I went back to look at those for the students I wrote for this year. If I had to come up with a job description for the superheroes of the future, the adjectives would be the same:

• Conscientious
• Resilient
• Self-aware
• Tenacious
• Relationship-oriented
• Problem solver
• Proactive
• Creative
• Dedicated
• Wise
• Determined
• Leader 
• Curious
• Brilliant
• Passionate
• Critical thinker
• Growth mindset
• Intrinsically motivated
• Courageous
• Insightful
• Invested
• Advocate
• Diligent 
• A Force for good 

These are just some of the superpowers of the class of 2020 (not to mention the one student I compared to a human puppy who always entered class like he’d been tossed out of a tornado – I’ll give you about 3 seconds to figure out who I’m talking about). These are the attributes that will see you – and us, as a school, a community, and even a nation - through these challenging times. Any historical event like this one defines the generation living through it, and like it or not, that’s you. And while you don’t have to solve this crisis, I will say it again (as one does with any good thesis): there is no one better prepared for an historic moment than you. Whether you’ve been at Cannon for 1 year or you’re a lifer who attended the Teddy Bear Picnic, you are each adaptive experts. You have the tools to handle whatever the future holds. And while things can be uncertain and frightening right now, there is no one in whose hands I’d like to see the future take shape more than yours– you are smart, and kind, thoughtful and compassionate. You hold the power to help define what this moment will mean for the generations to come. As you always have, you have our trust, you have our support, you have our respect, and you have our love.

In her farewell about Papa Ross the other day (he is leaving us to finish graduate school), Ms. Harley referenced a novel she read about a tribe in Peru who don’t have a term for goodbye. Instead they say, “go and come back.” Mrs. Otey compared it to our hashtag mantra of “you belong here.” And, as we know that while stealing from one is plagiarism while stealing from many is research, I’d like to share this research with you: Go. And come back. You will always belong here. Congratulations to the historic class of 2020. We could not be prouder of what you’ve done, and even more so, who you are. Be safe. Be well. Wash your hands, and thank you.