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Every spring like clockwork, after the Passover dishes are put away, after the daffodils and tulips blossom up North and the backyard mango trees down South put forth their fruit, after observant men (and boys who can grow them) sprout whiskers until Lag B'Omer, as high school students across the country prepare for final exams and clean out lockers, another rite of passage takes place. It is something I still can't quite get used to, even after so many years in education. Kids you have come to know and really like, who have wiggled their way into your heart, prepare to don a gown, cross a stage, receive a diploma, move a tassel on the mortarboard perched awkwardly upon their head, and proceed onward into their adult life along a path that you have, just a little, helped to carefully, painstakingly, and lovingly pave.
We met a blink of an eye ago, when they were naive young freshmen, pimples on their face and braces on their teeth, learning to maneuver the hallways of high school. Now they are confident young adults, highly accomplished, even invincible seniors who are soon to be alumni - and then freshmen all over again. About this time of year, many begin to feel vulnerable with the realization that the comforts, camaraderie, and community of their little school house on Montoya Circle will soon give way to far-off yeshivot and seminaries, sprawling metropolitan areas, and college campuses near and far. The unknown awaits, but so does the future with all of its promise.
Those of us who have taught or counseled, coached or guided these bright, eager young people begin to feel a bit nostalgic, too. Years pass. Some graduates will visit often, joyfully extolling the virtues of their program in Israel, sharing their plans to join the IDF or make aliyah, telling us about the "A" they got on their first college paper. We are happiest when they tell us how happy they are... or nonchalantly remind us of something we once said or did for them. Others wait years to return. We don't always recognize them at first as boys become men with broad shoulders and full beards and girls return as lovely young ladies, some with career plans already in place, others with new head-coverings and baby carriers. No matter when they return, we are delighted to see them. We dance at their weddings and celebrate their successes. Our hearts swell.
This wonderful connection is something exceedingly special and unique to WYHS, a bond our community might even take for granted, something precious and rare, not frequently found at other educational institutions.
A wise philosopher once said that the greatest gifts we give to children are "roots and wings." As our seniors begin to spread their wings and prepare to soar to new heights, they leave the halls of WYHS confident in the knowledge that they can always return to their roots, to the place where they received a solid foundation - not only in English, Gemara, and Math, but in how to lead a virtuous, fulfilling life.
The time has come. It happens the same time every year no matter what we do: time to tip our hats to our extraordinary seniors, the WYHS Class of 2013. We are so very proud of each and every one of you, yet we know that your best is yet to come. We celebrate not the end of your high school experience, but your new beginning.
Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." So when you dream, dream big. Remember that anything worth dreaming and doing in life is worth doing well. And as you do well, also do good. Make your life a blessing, and may Hashem continue to bless you in all you do.
Mazel Tov to our seniors and their families.
Shabbat Shalom,
Mrs. Marcy Roberts
Director of College Guidance
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