I stand here today, thinking about the future and what unknowns lie ahead. I never thought I would be up here wearing a cap and gown looking out at so many people that I love, or to graduate high school with all of you. When Math, Mr. Rogers, told me that I was chosen to give the class speech, I didn’t think that I had anything worthwhile to tell, he told me to just write what I know. To give the speech at Westmonte is an honor. I’m not gonna lie. Everyone just told me to write what I know.
Well, I know that two years ago, I never would have been able to write this speech. And I never could have pictured myself going to college, and now I’m going to college with my best friend. I know that in my time here, I have learned more than I ever thought I could.
I..I managed to pass subjects that I used to not even be able to spell, like calculus. Like physics. Which I loved because the laws of physics are basically the laws of all the unpredictable chaos around us, there are certain universal constants. Gravity, the speed of light. These constants never (ever) change, even when everything else around them does.
Life is full of unknowns. And when those unknowns are too overwhelming, it’s the constants that we have to hold onto. Like our friends. The ones who are not afraid to tell us that there’s no such thing as normal. The ones who have been in our lives for every minute with you, even the hardest minutes.
Like those who could have walked away, but chose to stick around. Even though they had their own lives, families. Their own children. Like our parents, because we wouldn’t be here without them. Who pick us up when we fall, who come when we call them, who answer when we knock.
We all learned what a light year is. And these years together have been our light years. The years where everything became brighter. When we learned that the bright spots in our lives aren’t merely spots, but constants. And no matter where I go, or what I do…you are my constant. May you never forget yours.