Class of 2026, we did it!
Today is a day we dreamed about for years, and if we’re being honest, a day that at certain points could not come fast enough.
Our journey to this stage was a little unusual. We began these four years in masks. Before that, many of us were in Zoom school: pretending to be attentive while playing video games on the side, nodding confidently while understanding absolutely nothing.
Personally, I tried to freeze on camera so my teacher would think my internet had cut out. It was a great plan–until my dog walked behind me, captured on the full screen. At that point, the jig was up.
Eventually, we came back in person, still wearing masks.
Some were cloth, some were medical, some were invisible. We revealed these masks with faces of “I’m unbothered,” or “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” or even “I’ve got it all figured out.”
In reality, these masks were a vehicle to protect ourselves; we didn’t want others to see our insecurities. We tried to act indifferent, so high school–its parking lot, cafeteria, and classrooms–became our stage. Our place to play it cool.
And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that many of us felt pressure to look confident, to act unaffected, to make everything appear effortless, to never look embarrassed because, for some reason, in high school, caring can feel risky, trying can feel risky, being sincere can be risky, or even showing emotion can feel risky.
Through this process of acting, we became so focused on how we looked to others that we forgot to look within. We tried so hard to be known that we forgot to be understood. We tried so hard to find OUR group that we forgot we already belonged to one: ABRHS was an umbrella that welcomed all of us.
Through my four years here, I have learned that everyone has moments where confidence disappears, nights when they wonder if they are enough, days when they feel behind.
And that is not failure.
That is life, that is growth, that is when the masks stop helping, that is when the Image stops mattering so much, that is when you begin to realize what actually counts. It is not who was noticed the most, who looked like they had it the easiest, who seemed untouchable, but who was genuine, stayed kind, kept going, who helped others carry their weight, too.
So, today is not just a celebration of accomplishments, though there are many.
It is a celebration of resilience: of growth, of late nights, of early mornings, of setbacks, of recoveries, and of quiet perseverance, of the people we became through experiences no one else fully saw.
And most importantly, today is an unmasking.
We are leaving a place where many of us felt pressure to seem impressive, and entering a world where what will matter most is being genuine.
The world does not need more people pretending to be perfect; it does not need more people hiding kindness because sincerity might look “cringe.”
Instead, the world needs more people who are real: people who care openly, who try wholeheartedly, who fail but keep going. People who are brave enough to be themselves.
So, Acton-Boxborough class of 2026, as we walk forward, I want us to leave our masks behind. We’ve learned how to show our true faces–and that’s what matters–because as we prepare to walk away from Leary Field, the world is waiting for you with open arms, not demanding that you arrive and act perfectly.
Rather, she is providing you with an invitation to take risks, to be vulnerable, and most of all, to be real.
Congratulations, class of 2026!