Now, traditionally, commencement speeches are given by accomplished professionals. Founders of companies. Community leaders. Owners of patents. Yet today, you got me, someone who can’t even parallel park with confidence. Perhaps I should not be up here right now. No really. I shouldn’t. Eleven years ago, at a youth soccer session, our coach, Mitch, asked for our names, I looked him dead in the eye and boldly replied “my name is Thomas.” Now, my name is not Thomas. It has never been Thomas. Thomas isn’t even a nickname. In case you didn’t hear our wonderful announcer, let me clarify, my name is Connor. Connor Gerald Leo. So why Thomas? Why, at the age of 7, did I commit light identity fraud on a suburban soccer field. Well for a simple reason. At the time, I could only say 25 out of the 26 letters of the alphabet and the one I couldn’t say? The letter ‘R.’ This becomes a problem when your name is Connor. But, not being able to pronounce over 10% of words goes beyond mispronunciation, it affects confidence. As a second grader, I sat in the very back of the class. I was the person who didn’t want to raise their hand, make friends with classmates, or talk. And while I crafted my persona around being “Thomas” a kid who didn’t care about school, friends, or responsibilities. I was struggling inside. I lost my name, yes, but more than that, my identity.
Then came speech therapy. You haven’t lived until you spent every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon with a speech therapist named Denise and her perky puppet Mr. Squeaky. Denise would aggressively spin Mr. Squeaky in circles yelling… where new crises emerge each and every day, many can’t help but grip their seats in fear. But if there’s one thing I know about this class and this community, It’s our strength when we use our talents, collectively working together. I’m not just talking about when the seniors won the Senior vs Staff basketball game. Which we did win by the way and didn’t tear any ACLs in the process. (Sorry Mr. Gwin. glad to see you back up and running…or…limping) In seriousness, we will scatter. To new cities. To new campuses. Some even to new countries, and while we navigate a landscape of uncertainty, we also encounter a world rich in opportunity.
What makes ABRHS special is our diversity. Diversity, not just in background, but in thought, talent, and dreams. That’s what made us stronger. That’s what made us better. Class of 2025. Our struggles are different. But our resilience unites us. Class of 2025, our talents are different, yes, but together we can accomplish. So when it gets difficult, remember that moment when your challenges seem insurmountable, and yet here we are, graduating together. So as we step into a new age, take this memory. Go out into the world and be the leaders. Be “the future.” Be the “new generation.” Be the ones who seek to develop a better world for all that live in it. So, should I be standing up here today? If you asked my seven-yearold self, the kid who called himself “Thomas,” who was stuck with a name he couldn’t even pronounce, he would’ve said no. But what about your 7 year old self? Look at you. Look at us. Friends, we’re just getting started. Thank you, and congratulations, class of 2025.