July 7, 2001 (Part 2)

These are two things that I've written this past month that I was proud of. The first, because I didn't think I could find one nice thing to honestly say about high school when I was voted to speak at graduation. The second, because I didn't think I had another poem in me, let alone one that I liked.

Commencement Address

"We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Standing by lone sea breakers
And sitting by desolate seas.
We are the movers and shakers of the world,
Movers and shakers forever it seems.
We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams."

Today we stand on the verge of a whole new world. For the past four years, we have struggled to find our places in this school, but today those efforts can be abandoned. Today we can look forward to what is to come. Somewhere along the way, in this maze of homework and homecomings, we became adults. Today we are being sent out in to the real world, and are expected to act as adults. This is an exhilarating idea- something we've been waiting for since we filled out our first college applications. But at the same time, this concept is terrifying. For the first time, we will be almost entirely on our own. I can't help but wonder if we are up to the challenges we face.
For most of our lives, it has been explained to us that we, the children, are the future. In just a few years, that time will be upon us. It will be our generation's responsibility to take care of our families, our communities, our nation, our world. We will become businessmen and women, leading the corporate world. We will become doctors and nurses, saving lives and discovering cures for the diseases that plague us today. We will dominate the art scene, redefining music and traveling to new heights of the imagination. Many of us will return to the classroom, this time to teach the children that will follow in our footsteps. One of us, perhaps even someone sitting among us today, will become president. We will have the opportunity to change the world, to promote peace and equality and to solve the problems we see hurting people now. More importantly, we will change our communities. We will become mothers and fathers, opening our children's eyes to the wonders that enchanted us when we were young. We will do all of this and more.

In high school, we were given the freedom to develop different facets of our personalities. We were actors, journalists, athletes, musicians, dancers, poets, and scholars. We were happy and passionate about life. If we take nothing away from this school, if we somehow forget the quadratic equation or the symbolism of Hamlet, we should remember this. We are by no means done. We have not discovered all there is to know about the world, and there are still pieces of ourselves we have yet to come across. The window of opportunity to find these things does not close after we walk across the stage tonight. There are many doors left unopened in our lives, entire hallways we have yet to walk down. If anything, this is a time for increased curiosity. The world is open to us- we can go anywhere and become anything; we will leave here well-equipped to pursue this goal, to both find out what our dreams are and then to achieve them. This is the time to test our strength, to reach for the impossible, and to see just how high we can soar. If we attack life with even more energy than we have devoted to high school, then I believe we can overcome any obstacle.

When we first came to RB as freshmen, we were told that we were in for the best four years of our lives. I certainly hope they weren't. High school was not meant to be the climax, but the starting point. We will remember RB and cherish our time here, but we must also look forward to what is to come. We are all going in different directions: we will go to different colleges, start our careers, and form our own families. But this is where we started. So thank you, Riverside Brookfield High School. Thanks for letting us make our music, thanks for supporting our dreams.


"Jessica Gwynn, Age 18"

I am a girl.
I am a woman.
I am a daughter and a sister,
A niece and a grandchild. I am an enemy.
I am a listener and a reader,
A talker and a crush.
I am a musician.
I am a writer.
I am a speaker and a scholar,
A thinker and a dreamer.
I am a voter.
I am a liberal.
I am a debater and a volunteer,
An exception and a presidential candidate.
I am a worker.
I am an achiever.
I am a joker and a smiler,
A giggler and a cackler.

I am strong and confident,
Fearless and passionate.

But...

I am a person with Cystic Fibrosis.
I am a hospital patient.
I am a nebulizee and a needle-hater,
A pill-taker and a weight-gainer.
I am a fighter.
I am a crier.
I am a nurse and a cougher,
A lung-bleeder and a disease.

I am weak and frightened,
Hopeful but despairing.

...I am both.