Krystal's speech for Raina's graduation

As an 8th grade teacher and parent of an 8th grade graduate, I was asked to speak at this year's graduation, which was also Raina's 8th grade graduation.  The parameters were simple: 5 minutes, max, and anything goes.  Raina added an additional parameter: she had to read the speech in advance and she had line-item veto rights. 

To say I agonized over this talk is an understatement.  I'm not a procrastinator at heart but I waited and delayed to write this speech until the last two weeks.  I wasn't certain what I wanted to say and I was flummoxed about where to start.  (I felt absolutely pressured into giving a speech, which is why I agreed to it in the first place.  I honestly did not want this task at all.)

Eric gave me some reassuring advice, which kickstarted me into action.  He said, "No one is going to remember what you had to say anyway.  So just get up there and say something!"  He was absolutely right -- I couldn't remember what had been said in prior years and I have seen MANY graduation speeches -- and that insight freed me to say whatever it was I wanted.

In the end, I am proud of what I wrote, the delivery was pretty good, I didn't cry until the speech was over (thank goodness!), and multiple adults sought me over over the next few months to talk about what I had to share.  Positive feedback overall.

There was one interesting moment during the speech, and it happened in the first 15 seconds.  I read the opening two sentences (below) and suddenly there was a flurry of student heads turning and whispering.  My two guesses:
1. Not everyone is comfortable hearing someone introduce themselves with pronouns.  My response to that: get over it, y'all.  Everyone should introduce with pronouns.
2. Not everyone knew that Raina was my daughter.  It makes sense; we don't have the same last name and most of the class was new since she started in JK.  Raina reported that LOTS of folks were craning necks to see her, so I suspect this was the main culprit of the commotion.

With all that said, here's my speech for Raina's 8th grade graduation.

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Good evening.  My name is Krystal White, my pronouns are she/her, and I am the proud parent of Raina Elizabeth Compton.  I also am the proud teacher of more than half of the students here, and I am absolutely honored to be a part of your Celebration experience.  Before we go any further, you need a fair warning:  I process every emotion through tears and, right now, I’m feeling all sorts of emotional! Bear with me.  I’m going to cry.

In full confession, I have been dreading this year – the year in which I would teach the class of 2023 – and dreading this exact moment: this hinge point where you are no longer growing up but instead you are young adults beginning to grow away.  I have been watching some of you grow since JK, a full decade now.  I have countless memories: the pet parade; staring down birds on the zoo trip; marveling when, during Skate Week, you bravely moved off of the carpet and onto the wood, immediately crashed down, picked yourself up, and kept on skating; watching the show go on during the 4th grade play power outage; playing two-truths-and-a-lie in the summer Bridge program; puzzling through problems together in ASAP; high-fiving in the hallways.  It is very bittersweet to stand here, to look at you, and know that you are moving on.  So, with these few last moments together, I have some pieces of advice that I hope you carry with you as you go.

First, embrace vulnerability.  Only when someone shares their hopes, dreams, fears, and failures, do they reveal their true selves to you.  Vulnerability is a gift of trust; it builds connections, deepens friendships, and creates lasting memories.  As your teacher, I don’t and won’t recall your scores on assessments or your level on a particular standard.  I do and will remember what you shared during our RISE conferences in 7th and 8th grade, how you responded to adversity, what you expressed in your personal essays, and how you supported each other through personal struggle.  That’s what matters. 

Second, show up, and support your classmates.  Be a cheerleader: celebrate their successes and stand by them in their stumbles.  Show that you see them and recognize their worth.  There are 141 individuals in your class; each one of you deserves a little more love, kindness, and understanding.  Stop talking OVER each other and start listening to each other.  Consider the world from the point of view of someone with a different lived experience than your own – different in family situation, national background, health, language – and really imagine what it’s like for that person to go through their day-to-day.  Widen your circle to incorporate their thoughts and concerns within your own.  Stand in solidarity with them. 

Third, experiment with different versions of yourself; allow yourself to grow and become someone new.  Dye your hair, listen to K-Pop, skip in the hallways – try things out and see how they suit you.  You are not a constant; you are a variable that can and should change.  Similarly, allow your friends to grow; they are on their own journey and are trying to become someone new too.  Don’t pigeonhole them into who they were as 8th graders; instead, look back at the 8th grade version of them with fondness and look forward to the future version of them with excitement and acceptance.

Lastly, be forgiving of yourself. Aim for something other than perfection: aim for quirky, clever, curious, compassionate, kind.  To quote my advisee, “It’s weird not to be weird.”  Aim for weird.  You’ll be in good company.

As adults, no one wants to be remembered for who they were in 8th grade, and yet in many cases that’s exactly how your teachers remember you.  And we love every bit of you, the person you are, and the person you are becoming.  Make yourselves proud, and know that we are proud of you already.  Congratulations, class of 2023!