Friday, June 15, 2007

Last Day of Public School

Today was my last day of public school for the rest of my life. I'm not very sad, but I'm not bouncing off the walls either. I feel like I should be feeling something, but I don't feel much of anything. A friend of mine explained it as mixed emotions. Maybe it is, though honestly I don't feel confused about anything except why I don't feel much.

Anyway, my true reason for blogging today is a response to something that occured today. The seniors go wild with confetti and airhorns even before school gets out for us (after third period at 11:11). During the period there would be seniors out in the halls chatting and signing yearbooks; their occasional whoops would be augmented by music blasting out of various classrooms.

My last period of the day was AP English with Mr. Berrier. It was one of the few classes in which I had a "final," which for us was grading portfolios in monasterial silence for the entire period. Near the end of class (when more seniors had gathered in the halls making noise), Mr. Wu, the Junior AP U.S. History teacher, came by our classroom and spake thus (loosely):

"The difference between you and the people in the hall is that as time goes on, you're the ones who will be in charge of your own destiny. They won't. You take your final seriously, and listen when your teacher tells you to be quiet and that it's important to your grade."

This may be some kind of strange compliment, but I'm not sure if I agree with everything he said. I don't believe that expressing excitement about graduating in the halls during the last period of school is a bad thing. There were parties going on up and down that hall (there's a lot of senior classes there 3rd period), and a couple of teachers let their kids visit other party rooms. Most of the kids out in the hall were done with their finals. The fact that they chose to celebrate in that form in that place has nothing to do with their ability to succeed. I believe that a person can make something successful out of his or her life despite showing a bit of enthusiasm on the last day of school.

Many teachers get angry at the students because it distracts their students when they are serious enough to give a final on Senior final day. Senior finals aren't usually very important for most students; your grade is based primarily on your work throughout the year. Even if they are important to you, blaming the F on your history exam on the "distracting noise" going on outside is no reason for that noise to be condemned. If you can't work with distracting noises, whether they be actual sounds or events, you probably won't get far in life. Even the quiet student inside the classroom can fail.

Saturday, June 9, 2007

Baccalaureate

Finally, something to blog about, and it's not just that this is my 100th post (Yay! Break out the champagne!) Today was the Baccalaureate ceremony at the Crystal Cathedral, at which I was one of the five speakers. My closing speech went well, except for one, ah, overlong pause in the middle. But I got a bunch of compliments on it afterwards; it doesn't sound like a lot of people were disappointed, so why should I be? It was a risk going up to the podium without a script. Hey, that ties into my message, if only slightly.

Here are some pictures from Baccalaureate. People left pretty fast, so I didn't get many pictures with other Seniors. After the pictures is, by popular demand, a copy of my speech, as I title it.



Pacifica's two performers: Rachael and Rachel.

^ Old friends v

The Great Daniel Caldera, Salutatorian of Pacifica 2007

Megan

My family.

Steps to Tomorrow

Angelo had dreamed for years of going abroad. Now his dream was almost tangible as he stood before a panel of judges, vying for a scholarship with a group of students. The candidates were supposed to present on a group activity they had done together, but now that it was time, they ran into a little problem. “Who’s going to start presenting? How about you? Me? No, no, somebody else do it.” Angelo saw his moment. Although he was as nervous as the rest of them, he took a step forward and started to speak.

Everyone can determine his or her own future. It takes three elements to do so: it takes a dream, a plan, and a step. The first two are fairly simple. They can be accomplished in the comfort of one’s home in idle moments. Taking a step, taking action, is much more difficult. Every step forward is a risk; with every step you expose yourself.

As we leave from under the wing of our parents and the guidance of our high schools, there is nothing more important than using our new independence to make our futures fully ours. Each of us has goals. To reach them we used to wait for the opportunity to knock on our door. Gone are the days when our parents and teachers would give us free opportunities. Now they come but rarely, and we must search for them ourselves. Take that first step.

Of all the competitors for American Field Service’s scholarship in his region, Angelo was the only one to win it. The rest were just as well qualified. They all had their dreams and plans to go abroad. But when the opportunity came, only Angelo took that step and risked himself.

You can be an Angelo. You have dreams. You have plans. But those dreams and those plans will amount to nothing if you do not act.

Class of 2007, when you step out these doors, take the first step into a tomorrow you can call yours. Take the initiative; take the risk. Forging ahead is not always easy, but the achievement of the goal makes the effort worthwhile. The future is in your hands. What lies ahead is determined by what you do today.

(This isn't copyrighted, but it is my original work, so I would appreciate it if you did not reproduce it. Thank you!)