We came into ninth grade with so much fear, yet so much excitement. Scared of fitting in,  taking difficult classes, finding the clubs or sport teams that were right for us, and buying new clothes to fit the dress code, of course. 

But we’re here now, four years later, not because we aced every test or assignment, but because of everything that happened in between. Freshman year was the first quarter when we began to craft our grade identity, filled with motivation and potential. 

Ninth grade started with our first retreat. We filled our overnight bags, stressed about the summer homework we had barely completed, and argued over who was going to kill the scary bug crawling near our beds (Thank you Talia for taking one for the team). We sang our hearts out during the karaoke competitions, trying to earn the best grade from Rabbi Chesler, and participated in the battle of the classes games and relay races that became insanely competitive. Although we may not have realized it, this was where we first started learning about friendship, connection, and trust. 

When we returned to school sophomore year, we kept these values in mind while also developing new ones. As Ms. Stanton explained that our midterm was going to be a trial on Lord of the Flies, the room filled with a mix of laughter and sighs. We spent weeks preparing: re-reading the book, building arguments, gathering quotes, and assigning roles. We walked in like a team of lawyers about to win a Supreme Court case, and then we got absolutely wrecked by questions we didn’t see coming, cross-examinations we hadn’t practiced, and characters we barely remembered. But somehow, we kept going. We improvised, we backed each other up, and we truly tried. In the end, that trial didn’t just teach us about a book, but it taught us how to think on our feet, how to work under pressure, and how to support each other when things don’t go as planned.

And for Junior year, if I’m going to be completely honest, much of it was a blur amidst studying for the SAT and ACT and beginning our college applications. But we helped each other through it. We sat in the stairwell during our free periods reviewing Samson’s master quizlets that got us through the rigorous curriculum of Schechter. We were each other’s shoulder to lean on during, what I can attest, was an extremely trying time. 

In Hebrew class, we spent years learning vocabulary, grammar rules, ancient and modern Hebrew, and everything about Israel and Israeli culture. We were able to flaunt our skills during our senior play, where Salach Shabbati and his family move to Israel from Morocco, and how they navigate this hardship. Nothing teaches fluency like Yael trying to deliver her dramatic lines in a pregnant belly costume, on stage, in front of the entire school, friends, and family, all while praying she doesn’t forget her cue. That was more than a Hebrew language class. That was public speaking, teamwork, and courage.

 This past month, we were immersed in Israeli culture from what I can confidently say was the most amazing trip of my life, which many of us are still jet lagged from. Being in Israel for three weeks taught me more about myself and our class than I could have imagined. We used the Hebrew skills we had practiced in class, not to complete a test, but to answer the many Israelis who came up to us asking if we were part of Taglit, and to bargain for a necklace for one less shekel at the shuk. We moved as a family on this trip. Our long bus rides with Dudu, Itzik’s “nature walks” that turned into hiking up a mountain for five hours, and late-night conversations while looking out over Jerusalem. Every moment, we experienced together. We also learned things no classroom could have taught us, like how to be flexible when things didn’t go as planned, and how to be each other's comfort in those scary moments when the sirens would go off. Visiting Hostage Square, Har Hertzel, and the site of the Nova festival were heartbreaking, but in our grief, we leaned on one another.

At the beginning of this year, I thought of all the upcoming milestones we had to look forward to: college acceptances, the gala, the senior play, Israel, prom, and graduation. Senior year, gone in a second. My fellow graduates, we have made lifelong friendships and memories, and we will remain in our Schechter community forever. Remember the pure sense of happiness and inspiration we felt as we looked up at the stars together at the Sand Dunes, singing songs while Sam played guitar, begging not to leave. We reflected on our accomplishments and declared our confidence in each other for the future. As we lay on top of each other with the stars as our only source of light and expressed our appreciation for each other, I was once again reassured that our parents made the right decision to send us to Schechter. 

We know we can count on each other whenever we need a shoulder to cry on or ears to listen. Together, we personify the power of community. Tomorrow, when high school becomes a thing of our past, we have to remember the importance of community as we meet new people at every stage of our lives. At Schechter, we saw the benefits of working together as a team. The more people, the more ideas, and the more opportunities. 

Before I finish, I want to take a moment to say thank you. To Denise: thank you for being the behind the scenes of it all and making sure everything works when no one else knows how. To Art and Mark: thank you for helping us navigate the college process with patience, humor, and honesty. You reminded us that our futures are bigger than any single decision and showed us how to move forward with confidence. To our teachers and faculty: thank you for pushing us, believing in us, and guiding us through more than just academics. To our parents, siblings, friends, and family: thank you for the unconditional love, encouragement, and occasional reality checks. Your support means more than I can say. To Ofra: thank you for leading with both strength and compassion, for always giving us tough love, for acting like a parent as well as a friend, and for always putting the students first. To my fellow classmates: you’ve been my teammates, my competition, my support system, and my friends. We’ve grown up together, and I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished. And to everyone else who stood by us, cheered us on, lifted us up, or simply reminded us we were capable: thank you. 

Now, we’re stepping into the next chapter. College, gap years, and adventures. But if high school taught us anything, it’s to not overlook the little moments: the detours, the messy group projects, the long bus rides, and the little conversations, because in the end, those moments aren’t just filler. They’re the story.

So, Class of 2025, let’s take what we’ve learned, not just the information, but the tools. Let’s keep noticing the moments that don’t seem like much until they become the ones we remember most. Thank you, and congratulations.