2024-25 Chapel Talk Book

2024-25

Table of Contents Brooke Adams​ Khadeeja Agha​ Jane Baldwin​ Ellison Ball​ Tori Ball​ Lawson Barrueta​ Ani Bhushan​ Frances Bohner​ Hazel Bolen​ Adelaide Bond​ Tessie Braman​ Ella Brandon​ Ansley Bratcher​ Lauren Brockman​ Merritt Bryan​ Sadie Buhrman​ Tasha Bundrick​ Madeline Butler​ Abbey Conner​ Mabry Cook​ Kerrigan Coverly​ Ebba Cox​ Ellie Crowe​ Emma Davenport​ Lillian Eaton​ Elsie Elliott​ Sloane Evans​ Cat Feeney​ Anna Flint​ Helayna Flint-Rivera​ Caroline Grant​ Bella Hammond​ Sylia Hicks​ Haley Hixson​ Madelyn Houghton​ Mariah Ivery​ Harper Jenkins​ Blythe Lavin​

1 2 4 7 9 11 13 15 17 19 21 23 24 26 28 30 32 33 35 38 40 41 43 45 47 49 51 53 55 56 58 60 61 63 65 66 68 70

Natalie McCorvie​ Sylvie Miller​ Charlotte Myers​ Eileen Nash​ Erin Naylor​ Cadence Nichols​ Kendall Ownby​ Gwyneth Parks​ Charlotte Parsley​ Hennie Perry​ Gracie Pinkston​ Katiya Amason Rangno​ Sadie Reynolds​ McCall Roach​ Layla Robinson​ Katie Rutledge​ Millie Sharplin​ Gilly Shumate​ Layan Siyam​ Josie Stribling​ Addison Stuckey​ Eliana Tabibiazar​ Emily Tolar​ Evelyn Towns​ Grey Tugman​ Brie Wallin​ Mary Wamack​ Alaina West​ Ella Whitaker​ Ella Beth Wiedmer​ Caiden Williams​ Sydnie Williams​ Hannah Wise​ Sara Wright​

72 73 74 76 78 85 87 89 91 93 94 96 98 100 101 103 105 106 108 110 112 114 116 117 119 121 123 124 126 128 130 132 133 135

Brooke Adams Thank you, Garner and Prater, for that sweet introduction. Prater, I will miss you so much when I go to college next year, but have fun being an only child. Garner, thank you for being one of my biggest role models. Thank you to my parents for all the sacrifices you have made for me over the years. I love y’all

so much. Thank you to all my guests in the first few rows for taking time out of your day to come hear me speak. You all have had such a positive impact on my life. Also, Shoutout to my Rat, Tess, you are truly amazing, and I hope you enjoy your years at GPS just as much as I have. If you know me, you probably also know that making decisions does not come easily to me. If you ask me what I want to do, where I want to eat, if I want to go out or stay in, or if I would rather dress up or dress down, I would probably respond with, “Whatever you want to do is good with me.” I also struggle to make more major decisions, like what to name my cat, who still doesn’t have a name even though I have had her for over a year. So, as you can imagine, deciding what to give my Chapel Talk on was a challenge. PSA: Having a late Chapel Talk date does not actually make you more prepared. Then, I started wondering why I am so indecisive. Is this trait even unique to me? Have I always been this way? Is it a strength or a weakness? ​ Maybe I am indecisive because in middle and early high school, the main thing I worried about was other people’s opinions of me. How do I write a Chapel Talk to give to the whole school, my family, and all my friends? How will other people judge the outfit I choose or the college I pick? Will people judge me for liking certain movies, music, or food? In middle school, this fear of judgment not only became tied to my indecisiveness but also brought me many other insecurities. I thought maybe people didn’t like me because of how I looked, and if I could just have better hair, I would finally fit in. I thought if I could just change my personality and be more normal, then I could finally fit in. Everyone around me seemed so effortlessly to fit into the styles and social norms, but somehow, I missed the memo. ​ Maybe I’m just indecisive because if I sit in my thoughts for longer than five minutes, I tend to reach for my phone and doom scroll for an hour. Obviously, I am aware that this use of time is not productive and doesn’t help me make decisions, but it does allow me to temporarily escape from thinking about it for too long, even if it does make me even more stressed once I’ve realized how much time I wasted. Even though I have known my Chapel Talk date since August, I still walked into my first Chapel Talk meeting without any preparation or ideas because I avoided sitting down to brainstorm or think through possible topics. Or maybe I’m indecisive because I truly just don’t have opinions about some things. I had a college essay prompt that sat in my Google Docs for months because every time I tried to work on it, I just couldn’t even think of a way to begin writing. The prompt was to invent an original word, but even after asking ChatGPT, I was still unable to come up with a good one. I kept getting caught up with how much I didn’t like the prompt. So, instead of brainstorming, I dismissed it as a bad prompt and pushed it off until later. I ended up starting that essay the same weekend it was due. Don’t worry; I eventually invented a word and turned it in right on time. Shout out to Mr. Swanson; you really helped with that one. At this point in my Talk, I could either discuss how I have been working to improve this aspect of myself and have an inspirational ending about being yourself and overcoming your flaws, or I could discuss reframing how I view my indecisiveness as a flaw and encourage you all to reframe your own thinking. Keeping in theme with the rest of my talk, I couldn’t decide on just one of these endings, so instead, I’m going in both directions. My struggle with decisions has often held me back. Instead of focusing on thinking through important decisions, I set them out of my mind completely and wait until the last minute, if I even address them at all. Or if I try to make a decision more efficiently, instead of pushing it off, it is easy for it to begin to consume my thoughts. In either case, I continue to stress and question myself even after I’ve made a final decision.

When making smaller decisions, I often end up caring more about how others will react than about my own opinion on the matter. If I have a place to eat in mind and someone asks me where I want to go, more often than not, I will still claim not to care where we go because I have convinced myself that I will be judged for my preferences. This year, I have been working to force myself to sit in my decisions or speak up about my opinions. I challenge anyone who might also struggle with this to try and work towards confidently making decisions for yourself. It helps to surround yourself with people that you trust who will accept both you and the decisions you make. I challenge everyone, whether you are indecisive or not, to try to embrace who you are and not to worry about how other people might perceive you because, in the end, the only opinion that truly matters is yours and those of people closest to you. My indecisiveness will probably always be a part of who I am. It would be easy for me to continue to see it purely as one of my flaws, as something that is holding me back from achieving everything I want to achieve. While my indecisiveness does hold me back sometimes, it can also be a strength, allowing me to think through important decisions thoroughly. For example, my college decision experience has lasted much longer than I expected. I started this school year with a clear top two, so you would think I would have made my decision a while ago. However, taking my time with this has allowed me to consider all of the factors for each school, and I know this will make me more confident in my college decision. So, instead of simply writing off my indecisiveness as one of my flaws, I see it as an important part of my identity. We all have parts of ourselves that we would want to change. However, I challenge you all to find ways to twist the narrative on yourself. The chances are that what you see as a flaw has a much more profound impact than you think. Thank you!

Khadeeja Agha First, thank you, God, for leading me through life on a greater path. Thank you, Hussain (also known as Ron) and Noor, for your sweet introductions. I will carry your unwavering love, guidance, and support with me always. Thank you to all my guests for coming to listen to me today, y’all mean so much to me and hopefully I’ll make it worth your time. Shout out to my Rat, Michele. Caroline and I are so excited to see what GPS brings you. Finally, thank you to my parents. Mummy and Abu, y’all have shown me unconditional love and patience over the past seven years, and I don’t know where I would be without you both. I hope I have made y’all proud to have me as a daughter. Most nights, my family eats dinner all together. That would be my mom, my dad, my brother (if he’s home), and my grandparents on my dad’s side. We eat, we chat, and then I wait until my grandma finishes eating and we go upstairs. Then, we talk. My grandma, who I call dadi, and I are very close. Not only is she genuinely one of my closest friends who I tell everything to, but she has lived with me my entire life and is honestly like a second mother to me. She knows me very well. So, I want y’all to understand my surprise when we were standing in the kitchen one night and dadi looked me dead in the face and told me she had spoken to me in English my entire life because she knew I didn’t understand Urdu. Urdu is the main language of the country my family is from, Pakistan. It’s funny because… I actually do know Urdu. I’ve always known Urdu. For my entire life I’ve known Urdu. I’m just really bad at speaking it, so I never do.

Although I highlighted this specific anecdote, this was definitely not the only time my lack of proficiency in the Urdu language has been addressed. Sometimes, it’s even easier for me to get my thoughts out in Spanish than it is to say them in Urdu, but I prefer to just thank Dr. Montero for being an excellent teacher instead of admitting my shortcomings. You could say I have personal unresolved beef with the Urdu language. But this moment stuck out to me. This was a “now or never” sort of moment for me. As long as I can remember, I have been able to almost completely understand Urdu when it is being spoken around me or to me. Urdu is the language I grew up hearing at home. In fact, my brother learned Urdu before he learned English. For some reason though, when my parents spoke to me in Urdu, I always responded back in English. No one ever asked (or forced) me to speak Urdu with them, and as a young child, I definitely had much more important things to think about than figuring out how to speak the language of a country I had been to twice at most. But as I stood in the kitchen trying to explain to my grandma that I did know Urdu, I just couldn’t speak it, I realized how pathetic I sounded. Growing up in America, I’m already far away from my family’s culture and traditions. On top of that, I’ve always lived and gone to school in predominantly white communities. As I’m sure many people of color can understand, I went through the struggle of feeling like I didn’t belong, feeling ashamed of how I look and my background, and trying to make myself be more like the people around me. On top of that, I’ve been told numerous times before that I don’t act like a “real Pakistani,” because of my personality, the things I like, and the people I hang out with. I had no idea what I wanted to make of myself and my identity. I felt like a whitewashed caricature of a Pakistani. Why do I have to be Pakistani, but everyone else gets to just be themselves? Luckily, I am fortunate enough to have people in my life who give me the luxury of being my authentic self. My environment allows me to be proud to be Pakistani. So how can someone who is “so proud” to be Pakistani not even bother to learn the language? How would I pass on my culture to my kids? The older a child gets, the more difficult it is for them to absorb language and become fluent, leaving me at age 15 with little time to improve. I decided then I was going to learn to speak Urdu beyond broken sentences and embarrassing grammar. I started trying to practice with everyone in my family by speaking Urdu whenever I could. This was extremely annoying. Anyone in my family can tell you I am extremely persistent (or stubborn, depending on who you ask), and when I practiced speaking Urdu, I refused to give up on sentences once I started them. I also refused to be told the words I was looking for, meaning it would take me five minutes to tell my mom a simple sentence like “I’m going out for dinner with friends.” Once, I tried telling my grandma about my day at school. She actually cut me off and begged me to switch to English so she could understand better. For reference, English is not her first language. Or her second language. Or her third language. Yall, English is literally her fourth language. It was definitely not the smoothest experience. I don’t know if I’ve made it sound like I’m going to close this out with a sweet message about how I’m totally fluent in Urdu now and it was so easy and I’m soooooo in touch with my culture, but that’s not where this is going. I stood in the kitchen with my grandma three years ago, and my Urdu is still pretty rough. I still am definitely too scared to try speaking to anyone outside of my family. My accent is definitely unique. There are so many grammar rules I’m convinced I will never understand. But, I’ve improved. A lot. I find myself speaking more freely than I used to. I can go on talking and explaining different things for longer periods, and my sentence structures have gotten more sophisticated. Regardless: I’m not perfect at it. But I decided to try, and the results are there.

So, what compelled me to tell this anecdote to my entire school? Well, while this experience may have taught me a new language, it goes deeper than that for me. To me, this story is the perfect example of two things: delayed gratification and knowing who you are. Delayed gratification is probably my dad’s favorite combination of words. So, I can’t take full credit for the thoughts I am about to share, since I have spent many minutes of my life listening to my dad tell me what I am about to say to you. But, if there is one thing that was the key component in learning Urdu, it was time. Language is not easy. Truthfully, I thought my Urdu was a lost cause when I decided to start practicing. It took patience and willpower to consistently practice and actively learn. It took a long time for me to improve. And that is what delayed gratification is: coming to terms with the fact that good things take time. Not everything is going to be perfect as soon as it starts, whether it’s learning a language, picking up a new sport, joining a new club, learning a new topic at school, etc, etc. Dismissing the things you want to do as things that will “take too long” leaves you with nothing but missed opportunities. As soon as you come to terms with that, a whole new world will open itself to you. The other important part of this story is this: Never let anyone tell you who you are. If I hadn’t looked past what people said about me and my Urdu skills, I would have just accepted being “whitewashed.” I would have never bothered to start learning Urdu, and worst of all, I would have wondered “what if?” But, I chose to see what people said about me as a challenge. And that is what pushed me to try. Life is too short to wonder what if. Absolutely nothing is impossible. If you know who you are and what you want, and you know that good things take time, I see no reason for anyone to ever say they “can’t” do something. So, my advice to everyone listening is this: Don’t let impatience stand in the way of achieving your goals. If you want something for yourself, take the initiative to get out there and start doing. The sooner you start, the sooner you’ll see results. And make peace with the process. Every effort you make, big or small, makes you a little better than you were before. Sirf koshush kar na hay. Thank you!

Jane Baldwin Thank you to everyone who is here today to hear me speak, I thank in particular those who kindly introduced me (Whitaker and Cece), my friends and family in the front few rows, guests who had to travel farther than an hour to get here, to my Rat (Anha Smith), Ms. Dix for helping me in writing this, and to those who may not have been able to attend, including all of the cats in my life (Twist, Nemo, Snake, Darcy, TacocaT, Ash, Zephyr, and excederá). All of you have brought and kept me here today in some way and I’m eternally grateful for that. If you’ve been at all close to me in the years I’ve been going to GPS you will probably be able to guess what this Talk is about. Since I have been going here I have promised, “If she dies, my Chapel Talk will be about her.” Though I will clarify on the front end, this is not a eulogy. Think of it as more so a tribute. I will also state in advance that I may cry during this Talk; I hope it’s more impactful than uncomfortable for everyone. This past summer, I began writing my original Chapel Talk. I had reached a point in which I was comfortable enough to have it as a starting draft to work on for the five weeks with my advisor. Then during the last couple weeks of summer break, I began noticing things: a lack of appetite, not sleeping in bed with me, strange breathing… As my brain was adding up more and more behaviors and symptoms, I was simultaneously telling myself that everything was fine and that I was being overdramatic. I continued

in my routine with the addition of extra care allotted to her.​ All of this worry was dedicated to my cat, Flower. ​ The one day that I’d had off that week, she died. I woke up at 9:30 to find her, yell her name, and touch her fur, with no answer. After getting her out from under the bed, I spent the rest of the day with her. Eventually my mom came in and started asking me about how we wanted to memorialize her. I had already known from when I was young that I wanted her remains because I knew she would never want to be stuck without me. And so it was arranged. Every time I walked into my room after her body was taken away, I would have the realization that she was gone. Her presence in my room had been a fact of life to me. Each entering of my room brought a sting to my nose and tears to my eyes. ​ I was near inconsolable the entirety of the day she died. Every moment that passed was a reminder of what she could never do again. She would never drip her snot on me while she purred, she would never pester me for food under the dinner table, she would never follow me into my bathroom while I showered, she would never lie on my chest while I fell asleep, and she would never come to comfort me while I was crying. Ever again. I had had Flower since about 2012, when I was five. Sitting in the living room watching Bambi on our TV with a DVD player. My mother called me to get my shoes on. I got in the car and she explained that we were going to get a cat from my aunt’s house and take it home with us. In the past month or so we had experienced an unfortunate uptick of mice coming into our home. My mother, sick of buying traps that didn’t stop the problem, finally decided to get a cat. “The only thing I hate more than cats is rats,” I remember her saying as we sped down the road, and I watched the rain droplets race down the window. We were lucky when we got there that the gray tabby was not feral. She wasn’t a pain to catch and get in the carrier; she was, however, very vocal, so we got very familiar with her incessant meows during the car ride home. Once we got home though, she was perfectly content, sniffing around to get acquainted with her new forever home. My mother came into the room as I was hunkering back down to continue my film and she asked me, “What do you think we should name the cat?” I immediately responded with “Thumper!” as my lightning fast kindergarten brain made the connection between their shared fur color. My older brother mentioned that she was a girl cat, to my simultaneous dismay and glee. I pondered for a moment on what other possible names there could be for her when I turned back to the screen. The flower field scene came on and a little skunk popped out of the lush cacophony of hand-drawn blooms. “Flower!” That word cemented the closest bond I would ever have with any being in the world. Bright and early the morning after she died, I woke up to get to work on projects that were due that day and get ready for an event. Nothing taxing, some arts and crafts with some socialization after. It ended up being the second worst day of my life. It is one thing to go through a death and another to act like nothing happened for the sake of other people around you. The pit in my stomach and the weight on my chest grew throughout the day as I ground through interactions with people. I made it through both the crafts and socialization of the day, with no tears for the most part! But as soon as I got in my car to go home, I felt myself breaking down. I had to calm down though. I had to get home now. Home. Where she wouldn’t be. I was lost.

I pulled over on the side of the road. I screamed and sobbed, “I want to go home.” ​ It was strange setting up the safety net of “my cat died a week ago so I might need extra patience” to all my teachers; it was so informal, unceremonious, and so condemning. I felt like I should’ve cried, I should have screamed, I should have been sent to the counselors. I believed I should’ve felt worse. ​ ​ I have always struggled with feelings of being inadequate; this stretches across many bounds including those regarding grief. Despite any knowledge that there is not a proper way to grieve, the feeling comes to me as easy as breathing. There was very little I could do to shake these feelings. I’ve always hated hearing the phrase “They’ll always be with you,” said to people who are grieving. I didn’t like it because I never understood how it could be true, both based upon my interpretation of the afterlife and the understanding of the laws of biology. I think now, though, I can fully understand what it means. I think a lot about the butterfly effects she had on me. Part of me feels like every aspect of my personality is, in some way, derived from her. My favorite colors, my interest in animation, my homebody nature. The truly egregious amount of knowledge about cats that I have. I don’t know if it’s just because she was the staple of my major developmental years that I am the way that I am. The third day without her I had been scheduled to go to a leadership retreat. I was very close to not going at all. Through some convoluted line of reasoning I decided to go. There were presentations, games, time to hang out, opportunities to be outside. But I kept asking myself, why was I having fun? I was talking, joking even, feeling the warm sun on my skin and the breeze. Why did I even come here? I should be inconsolable in bed, if she was the creature I treasured most in this world. My baby and biggest support. Always there for me, even when I was mean to her. Always loved me. Then why on earth was I fine? I couldn’t exactly reconcile this at the moment, but I continued through the activities. That day ended not too dissimilar from day two, but when reflecting on it I primarily remember the positives more than the negatives. My days continued to get happier and my guilt got compounded simultaneously. All I wanted in the world was for her to be back, but no amount of tears would ever do that. I began to have a shift in my understanding of grief. A very difficult shift, but an important one. It was not spontaneous; it actually coincided with writing this. I started this in August because I knew how hard it would be for me to articulate all of the things that I could say about her. This outlet allowed me to navigate my feelings and develop my understanding. The point of grief is not to demonstrate the bond that you built with the object of that grief. The bond is shown by how you keep them with you. Carry their legacy on, if you will. I’m not at the point yet where I can tell specific stories about her without tearing up (evidently), I can’t reminisce for too long even individually. Eventually I’ll be able to do that, but in the meantime, I have the good fortune of being able to tell everyone my cat facts, stay in on the weekends, watch the newest animated releases, and decorate all of myself in green. Everything I do can keep her with me because she impacted me so. Loss is one of the most common parts of the human experience, second only to love, and everybody has to go through it at some point or another. Nobody is able to anticipate how they’ll handle loss. It is a natural thing to be sad in grief, it is normal, but you don’t have to carry losses with eternal heartache. Tears demonstrate only a fraction of the love that you held. Carry them with the love, joy, and memories they left in their wake. As Helen Keller wrote, “All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.” Thank you!! :)

Ellison Ball Thank you, Avery, Maxwell, and Kennedy, for introducing me. Life without you guys will definitely be an adjustment next year, but I love each and every one of you so very much and couldn’t ask for better siblings. To Mom and Dad, thank you for always sacrificing your time and constantly shaping me into the person I am today. Mom, thanks for always being so selfless and helping me whenever I need it. Dad, thank you for your lively energy and for pushing me to do things in life that are hard but so fruitful. I love you both so much and hope to be just as amazing as you are. Shoutout to my Rat, Audrey. I wish you all the best these next seven years. Tessie and I have enjoyed getting to know you this year! And finally thank you to my guests in the first few rows for taking the time out of your day to come and hear me speak. Personality is something that we define ourselves by. We use certain characteristics and adjectives to describe ourselves. Words such as “kind” or “direct” can give you a sense of who someone might be like. However, it’s the patterns that we naturally refer back to that set us apart from one another. The real question is: How do I continue to react when I’m placed in a certain situation? Something that has helped me understand myself is the Enneagram personality test. I was at first a bit skeptical because how could a test understand me and proceed to put me into some random group? When I finished answering all of the questions and got my results back, it was pretty accurate. I was awarded the category of “peacemaker,” also known as a number nine personality. One source states that, “Nines are defined by their desire to maintain a sense of inner peace and harmony and to avoid conflict or other emotional disturbances. They are typically agreeable, calm, and easy to be around. Nines rarely rock the boat, but they can be stubborn. While they typically go with the flow, they dislike being controlled and will respond with passive resistance if pushed too far.” This description may resonate with some of you, but it especially resonates with me. After completing this test, I felt I had gained some tools to understand myself better. I began to understand my core desires and beliefs more intentionally, which helped me see why I act and react the way I do. For the first time, I was able to put my complex feelings into tangible thoughts, allowing me to understand what makes and defines me as Ellison. As a peacemaker, I am notorious for always trying to resolve tension and conflicts to promote a peaceful environment—like an engine light that is always on. You are aware of it but, unless you really are paying attention to it, it just blends into the rest of the dashboard. I have a constant desire to make things harmonious and suitable for my situation, and it has made me grow to hate any form of tension or conflict. And along with this hatred comes a tendency toward harmony and calmness in my life. Something beautiful about this peacemaker side of myself is that I can truly immerse myself in a serene setting. I long for periods of peace where the world seems to be put on pause for just a brief moment. As the wind rushes through my hair on Ochs highway, no fear, no thought, no worry can hinder this moment. The music blasts at full volume mixed with the wind from the windows down and all my mind can think of is how the sunset might look at the hang gliding spot tonight. I get out of the car to be met with quality time with friends and admire the amazing views that Lookout Mountain always provides. These are times when I am able to collect my thoughts and gradually process them. However, it’s when I’m not able to receive these moments that those frantic thoughts start to rush in. Our culture is constantly preaching: “Do what serves you and, if you have to wait for it, then it doesn’t serve you.” We rush

through our finite lives so frantically that we seem to forget to stop for just a second. We get so caught up with our busy lifestyles that we make everything a contest to see how fast we can complete it. I’ve noticed this constant need to be driven by efficiency and speed is hindering my relationships. It’s hard for me to jumpstart my end of a relationship because of all the distractions that surround me. Relationships aren’t just about the words spoken but also the emotions behind them. Moving too fast can mean missing subtle cues that show how someone really feels. This takes time and, at the end of the day, I have learned that it is because of the relationships I have built around me that I can rest in them and not have to worry about them. I can find peace. It wasn’t until I went to Uganda with my youth group this summer that I started recognizing this need for intentional relationships in my life. The Ugandan people taught me how to step into perspectives other than my own. They were constantly lending a helping hand or providing a welcoming atmosphere. In fact, after traveling for about 20-plus hours, we finally landed in the small airport of Entebbe, Uganda. Exhausted and now with all of my luggage, I waited to be picked up and taken on a bus ride to arrive at our final destination. As I walked out of the airport to be granted my first breath of fresh air, I noticed some people jumping up and down waving their hands frantically. I was met with surprise as it was the people who were picking us up and had also made a sign. Quickly afterward, I was faced with hug after hug from these complete strangers. I fell into a state of shock as I had never seen strangers so excited to meet these other strangers. Their hearts expressed so much selflessness and gratitude for both the big and small things. This made me realize how important it is to seek out others and love them to the fullest. Relationships are such a vital part of us, but it’s easy to go through life quickly and not take the time to pursue connection. Because of our overloaded and demanding lifestyles, we forget to slow down and really get to know each other. This was the perfect way to describe my approach to relationships in the past. I was constantly not taking the time to be fully present nor allowing space for optimal connectivity. However, this change in pace in Uganda allowed me to slow down my fast-paced life and really get to know everyone. I finally understood what I needed to change in order to achieve these same things that I got to experience while in Kampala. Reflecting on my time there, I see how distinct the Ugandan culture is with their intentionality and was able to bring it back home. It was one of the first times I was able to experience how fulfilling relationships are and that there are various things that I can do on my side of things to make a relationship more intentional and meaningful. One of these relationships, in particular, is friendship. Friends have shaped me into who I am today by teaching me what values I deem important and helping me understand all sorts of different personalities and characteristics. Over the years, these friendships have taught me patience, becoming more empathetic, and so much more. And what a gift it is to be in their presence and experience life with them simply. Another fondness I have acquired over the years is valuing my relationships very sincerely. I approach each of them by needing to make them feel seen and valued. I want to be able to understand them from different standpoints and on a further level. And the same goes along with how God meets me in every moment. No matter how bruised or broken I seem to be, he is always right there walking alongside me. In fact, he is the one who created me with intention and purpose. He can even call me out by name. In fact, his friendship with me has taught me what I need to pursue in order to allow for a relationship to unfold and be fruitful. He’s someone I want to get to know better and vice versa. In order for our relationship to flourish, I have to uphold my end of reciprocating the eternal love that he has for me. It’s when I start to pursue him more that I feel our connection deepen and grow. For me, knowing that he already had a plan before I entered this world allows me to rest in his intentionality and love. Also, seeing him as my friend helps me see his many qualities. I must look up to him and marvel at his many different aspects, whether it be his love, his patience, or his forgiveness. After all, I am made in his image. He

wants us to reflect on his ways of life and make it applicable to our lives. And the same goes for friendship at the end of the day because it’s not something one-sided but goes both ways. My family relationships are equally as important as my friendships but can get very overlooked at times. I feel as though in this day and age we take for granted our very limited time together. I know all the different personalities mixed into some groups can seem very daunting at times, but I’ve actually learned to appreciate this so much. The reason why my family has proven to be so impactful over the years is because of all the personalities I get to interact with daily. I know that I will never belong to some singular and uniform group, but rather that I can be put into multiple different environments and be fine. We all are very different in our ways but come together and work as a team. They have provided me with security that I always and forever will be loved. Their support and unconditional love are such a blessing and not having them a few steps away is something that I will miss dearly. Whether it be Maxwell starting a new craft on the dining room table for the 18th time in a week or Mom making a pot of pinto beans, I wouldn’t change it for the world. All in all, we as humans are made for connection, and going about life and not seeking those around you is not only an injustice to you but also to your neighbor. It’s these connections that we are constantly craving for yet we seem to be doing not much about it. However, they take time. Don’t let this overwhelm you but rather help motivate making these connections around you. It’s actually quite relieving to finally take time and not be in a rush and find those who will be there right alongside you no matter the season of life. I will forever be grateful for taking that enneagram test in seventh grade because I have been able to grow and understand myself further in order to put myself in these relationships as well. So I guess what I’m trying to get at is try not to take for granted the little things in life but rather actually delve into them so you can experience this world a little better. Thank you!

Tori Ball Thank you, Courtney and Tripp, for that sweet introduction. I don’t know what I would do without y’all. Thank you to my parents for giving me the opportunity to be up here today. Thank you to my guests in the first few rows for taking time out of your day to come hear me speak. And lastly, shoutout to my Rat, Teagan. You are the coolest. Nothing screams family bonding like a game whose entire purpose is to run each other entirely out of money until everyone files for bankruptcy and can no longer afford to pay for their different properties and railroads. If it’s not obvious, I am alluding to the infamous board game Monopoly. Every Christmas, my family gathers around the dining room table and plays a massive game of Monopoly. At the age of 10, I was finally granted the honor of joining the annual tradition. Unfortunately, what I thought was supposed to be a blessing quickly turned into my worst nightmare. The whole objective of Monopoly is to remain financially stable while also becoming powerful enough to push the other players into bankruptcy and take over. Maybe it’s just me, but even the mere concept of this game sounds questionable, to say the least, and I hate it. My hatred for this game ran so deep that every year, I filed for bankruptcy on purpose. For me, being kicked out of the game was a better alternative than sitting for hours fighting with my family members. Every time I lost on purpose, though, my dad would begin to nag at me. He’d say things like “You can’t just quit. Quitters don’t get anywhere in life.” And while these playful statements came from a silly board game, they resonated with me. They led me to question a lot of the choices I made throughout my life, more specifically throughout middle and high school.

When I began middle school, at the school that shall not be named, I still had a very childish mindset. I was under the impression that social life would be a breeze and everyone would want to be my friend because in my mind I was just that cool. And with this, I was ready to begin my “grown-up” journey. Although I tried various activities such as soccer and robotics, nothing piqued my interest. That was until I joined the middle school choir. As I started learning basic music, I realized that this was something I was genuinely good at and had passion for. I had finally found what made me happy, or so I thought. When I progressed into seventh grade, I was eager to start the year, but I then had a harsh middle school reality check. School started and my so-called friends stopped talking to me completely. I was soon told that this divide came from my love for the arts and their love of athletics. Although this is an extremely shallow way of thinking, 13-year-old me thought it was completely rational. So, I quit choir despite my strong love for it. I had done the same thing I always did when I played Monopoly, I went bankrupt on purpose. Even though I had my friends back, I was lonely. I was missing what had been so fulfilling—the ability to create music. I began eighth grade still sinking in a hole while everyone else moved on from the last chapter of their life. I couldn’t shake this feeling of discontentment. This situation did have a simple solution, but when you are young you don’t think logically. So, I continued dragging my feet through eighth grade with no real happiness. This was until I had a sudden revelation one afternoon. I was struggling to do my homework and I was ready to give up until I remembered something my dad said to me during a game of Monopoly. “Quitters don’t get anywhere in life.” This was the moment that everything about how simple this situation was clicked. I should be able to do what I love free of judgment. So with this, I not only picked music back up, but I switched schools entirely, and while I was and still am so grateful for this switch, it all made me realize one thing: that I had wished my time away. I spent all of middle school just hoping for it to be over and rushing to make it to high school, but doing that I unknowingly grew up WAY too fast. I once again bankrupted myself. I wish I had only seen that life is so much bigger than it seems at such a young age, because now as I stand here and give this Talk, I see that my life, similar to many of yours, is about to change in so many ways, and while this is exciting, it is also terrifying. Performing last shows, saying final goodbyes, leaving your childhood bedroom, and so many more changes are about to occur, which makes it seem like your entire world is closing in on you, but in the wise words of Taylor Swift “The scary news is you’re on your own now… but the cool news is you’re on your own now.” So, seniors, as we open a new chapter, remember that we are bound to overthink, not think at all, overreact, underreact. Self-sabotage and ruin a great moment. Make new friends and miss our old ones. But I urge you to seek comfort in this. I urge you to find comfort in the uncomfortable. Know that the sun will still rise tomorrow, the planet will keep spinning, and the trees keep growing despite anything you are experiencing right now. Do not wish away the time you have left here or the time that lies ahead of you because of what someone thinks or because it doesn’t fit into the status quo. Don’t do what I did, don’t go bankrupt on purpose. Now if you thought you got away without me performing a song, you thought wrong! I have written a song I am going to perform titled “Back to Me” which really highlights my journey and my coping with all of the change occurring and time kind of slipping away.

Lawson Barrueta One of my favorite things is how the smell of a bonfire lingers with you. This may be an unpopular opinion, but I enjoy waking up in the morning and still being able to smell the smoke on my clothes and

in my hair. I usually go for rustic-scented candles instead of other sweeter smells. The warm and bitter aroma of smoke comforts me. This lasting scent reminds me of life—the constant lingering of experiences and how people make me feel. Sitting around a bonfire has always been something I look forward to. I enjoy sitting in lawn chairs or wooden stools and connecting with the people I love. As a talkative person, this is my favorite way to have conversations with others, and it reminds me that the joy of telling stories and sharing life experiences is a gift. I have no sense of time in these moments. Bonfires remind me of some of my most favorite memories. They are everywhere around me. My family and I will have one on Friday nights out of nowhere to play music and catch up. At every retreat I’ve been to, there’s been one. Climbing trips are often accompanied by a bonfire to keep us warm. All of these moments have had a bonfire, and I am brought back to the joy of each moment through the smell that lingers with me. When thinking about the concept of lingering memories and thoughts, I was reminded of how I often hear people say they wish they could go back in their lives and redo things. I hear them say things like “If I had just done this differently, then I would be in a better place.” Don’t get me wrong, I say these things, too, but I have been trying to change that. Yes, going back and fixing our mistakes could put us in better places than we are right now; I cannot deny that, but redoing our past experiences would change who we are as a whole. A battle I faced during my high school years was the constant worry of not doing enough. Perfectionism overtook my mind and took away my ability to enjoy things around me. I have always been anxious about my actions, my decisions, or the way I perform, but during high school, it felt intensified. I remember one climbing competition where I felt defeated after falling on the very last move. I worried so much about how I had performed during this that I made myself sick. I do not remember the exact place I got during this competition but it wasn’t last; all I do remember was feeling unsatisfied with myself. This unsatisfied feeling stuck with me for a while. During this time, I was convinced things would never get better. I felt like I was stuck in a dark place, afraid I would never escape. I struggled to enjoy the things I used to enjoy. Most of my activities felt forced and more like obligations rather than something I liked to do. Seeing the joy in the little things was a constant battle for me, leaving me unhappy. I spent many years striving for perfection: perfect grades, athletics, body, etc. But, nothing satisfied me. My constant anxiety about these things detracted from the happiness I could have experienced and my imperfections became a source of frustration. It was more often than not I would go home and harp on what I could have done better, but I never appreciated what I accomplished. It took me a while to realize that my imperfect grades and failed climbs weren’t the problem. My mindset and the way I was viewing life was. I needed to accept myself for who I was. Doing so allowed me to love those around me and made me feel confident and worthy of what I have to offer to the world. Loving myself enabled me to fully engage in the learning process for the sake of enjoyment and self-progress, rather than climbing up a “success” ladder. Ironically, the best part about a bonfire is its imperfections. The memories, thoughts, and feelings we hold glow like embers in the back of our minds. The marks left on the wood are how these experiences imprint on ourselves. The flames are never the same height or color; some are warm and comforting, while others burn with regret and pain. But these things matter because all the different components eventually become something wonderful. You could stack the wood differently every time, and each flame would still fulfill its purpose. Many of you know about my imperfections. For example, I have a “new words list” that I add to as a way to try and improve my vocabulary. I’m not sure if it’s done anything yet, but we are working on it. I

struggle to know normal things most people would know, like how many legs a centipede has or what direction Connecticut is. But, nobody judges me for these things. Rather, it’s a source of laughter and shows me that my friends love me despite my flaws, and now so do I. Negative experiences and imperfections do not have to determine who you are. You do not have to try and go back and change bad grades or bad memories. In many ways, we need these experiences because good can only happen with bad. Instead of fixating on our mistakes, we can try to learn from them and use them in our future. Working hard to enjoy the small things in front of you makes the big things even more special. When negative thoughts consume me, I try to step away from them to see the good. I still struggle with this no matter what I say but my experiences have made me more resilient than I once was. All experiences and the people I have met have shaped me into who I am. Michael, I wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for you. Thank you for always encouraging me to be a better person and for being my best friend. I don’t tell you enough, but I love you and I am so thankful I have been able to grow up with you. Adalyn, thank you for always walking by my side. I know that if I ever need anything, you are one call away. To Nanna Bear and PopPop, thank you for teaching me the gift to be able to dance and laugh through hard times. I miss you both very much and I am endlessly grateful for the time we had together. To my friends, I am thankful to be able to know you all. Life would be boring without each one of you. My family, teachers, mentors, and guests, thank you for helping shape me into the person I am. Your constant support is truly appreciated. And to Tully, you are the sweetest. Don’t ever stop being yourself and enjoying life your way. I am thankful to have you as my Rat. It’s these people who I always want to share parts of my day with, noticing things that remind me of them and taking pictures to send them later. I often find myself picking up some of the phrases and words they use in my own conversations. I think about all the funny moments I have had in the climbing gym and how they continue to make me laugh. It is these experiences, even the tiny ones, that make us who we are. Currently, it is my ongoing struggle to learn from both the bad and good experiences in my life. All of these experiences have led me to where I am now and will continue to shape the person I will become. The happiness and joy I am able to have would not be the same without allowing myself to feel this fear and failure. The way my adventures have lingered with me makes me who I am. For anyone out there who feels their flame flickering out, remember: Bad experiences do not have to dim your light but rather teach you how to build your bonfire even brighter and stronger than before. The good thing is, the flame of your bonfire will always be waiting there for you to light it. Thank you.

Ani Bhushan Raise your hand if you’re tired. (Me, too). As I was thinking about how to write a meaningful, funny, and impactful talk, I remembered when I once had the privilege of taking a class with Mr. Cook. This is the way he started his class. He told us that he understood if we were tired and needed to rest our eyes and even said if we were bored we could take a walk and come back. I remember this shocked me but ended up creating a really good environment for class. So, while I can’t let you leave my Chapel Talk if you’re bored, I do understand that it’s a busy time of year and it’s the Jan/Febs, so I totally get it if you chose to take this time to rest your mind or just zone out. Now that that’s out of the way, thank you to my mom and dad for that introduction. I am endlessly grateful for your guidance and the ample opportunities you’ve provided me with. To my guests in the first few rows, thank you for continuously showing up for me and taking the time to come hear me speak. I’m

truly grateful for you all. To my Rat, Praseeda, your future’s so bright and I cannot wait to see what you’ll do in your years at GPS and beyond. I know everyone says that these seven years go by fast, but truly cherish the time you have here because time really does fly. Lastly, I’d like to thank all of my teachers and the wonderful GPS staff for helping to create such a special and valuable community for me over the past seven years. I’ve never really been into zodiac signs. This is because I’ve never quite identified with my own. I don’t admit to many people that I’m a Gemini because I feel like we get a bad rap. Often I hear people associate Geminis with words like two-faced or split-personality. While I used to feel offended by these and move on, as I’ve learned more about the zodiac sign and myself, I’ve come to appreciate the idea of duality. Duality to me is just the idea of blending or connecting two different things together. When thinking about my identity and brainstorming what to write this Chapel Talk about, I realized many parts of myself have been made up through the blending of different ideas, values, people, and traits. The first and most obvious of those is my ethnicity. I often get questions of what my ethnicity is and where I’m from. I even got asked to “prove that I’m Indian” once at middle school social. This is because being half Indian, mixed with half white, creates some confusion and uncertainty around my ethnicity. Even for myself. My dad was born in India and moved to America when he was four years old. Because of this, he is pretty Americanized and therefore so am I. With that being said, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown more interested and curious about exploring my Indian culture. Through this exploration, I have realized and accepted that it can sometimes feel difficult to identify with either side of my ethnicity. This feeling of uncertainty often changes based on who I’m surrounded by. For example, I didn’t grow up speaking Hindi, so when I’m around some of the Indian community, I feel somewhat out of place compared to others who speak fluently and regularly at home. On the other hand, while I feel included, accepted, and safe at GPS, it’s no secret that there are not many other students of color. Because of this, regardless of how comfortable I feel with my friends and within our school, I am always aware that I’m not the majority: white. While these things used to make me feel different and out of place, I now see my mixed ethnicity as an opportunity to connect with and learn more about each side of my ethnicity as well as broaden my perspective. Being mixed is something I am proud of and a part of myself that I continue to explore. Whether it’s learning to cook with my grandmother, visiting my friends’ youth group, or trying to learn Hindi, having this blended ethnicity has allowed me to grow my identity and open my mind. The next thing that came to mind when thinking about duality was my personality. Many people hear the word introvert and assume it describes a person that doesn’t want to and doesn’t like to socialize with other people. To me, an introvert is someone who gains energy from spending time alone, rather than gaining energy when with others. I would describe myself as a natural introvert in this way. When I tell people I’m an introvert, a lot of the time they’re surprised or they disagree with me. This is because I enjoy talking to people and connecting with others, often a trait associated with the word extrovert. While many people, especially in these first few rows know me to be this person, before GPS I would’ve never had the confidence to connect with others. If my elementary school self had said “I’m an introvert,” nobody would even question it. I owe GPS for teaching me not only countless lessons in the classroom but for helping me to gain confidence and understand the value of connecting with others. Because of this I’ve made lifelong friends and gained an understanding of my own personality. I am both an introvert and an extrovert, a blend of both. With this, I’ve learned that personalities fall on a spectrum of introversion and extroversion, and it’s totally OK to feel affiliated with both. I think that sometimes self-proclaimed introverts and extroverts can feel self conscious in a room full of quieter or louder people. Thoughts like “Am I being too loud?” or “How are they so confident?” flowing through their minds. As I’ve gained an understanding of my own blended personality, I’ve been able to let go of these ideas, breaking a barrier that limited me from connecting with more people and more types of people.

This year I got to take a Biblical Ethics class. While I learned countless things about different philosophies, ethical dilemmas, Bible verses, and the history of the Bible, what I found most impactful was the way this class introduced me to so many new and different perspectives as well as challenged me to explore my own. We did a project where we created a poem by filling in certain blanks with objects, stories, people, etc., that we identified with. One of my identifying objects was my planner. I’m not just telling you this to highlight that I like planning, I promise there’s a point. Every Sunday night, I go through my planner and add every meeting, rehearsal, social event, family commitment, assignment, test, and more into my planner because it helps me organize everything and feel ready for the week ahead. This might seem excessive to some people and you might expect that I don’t do well with spontaneity because of this. You’re not wrong. Any of my friends can tell you I’m a pretty logical person and I definitely like a plan. One of my best friends, Mabry, even gifted me a planner for my birthday. While I admit I do like a plan and I prefer consistency, I also enjoy taking risks and getting out of my comfort zone. The main way I do this is through dancing with Terpsichord. Before I was a part of Terpsichord, I put a lot of pressure on myself to not make mistakes and used planning every step of my life as a way to mitigate failure. While I still do this, Terpsichord has helped me to view failure as a springboard for growth rather than a cause for insecurity. This mindset has allowed me to do many things I would’ve never done before. From dancing in Mean Girls the Musical to running for and serving on almost all of the leadership councils at GPS. I’m not saying that I’ve mastered getting out of my comfort zone because that would be a lie, but I’ve learned that opening myself up to more opportunities can lead to some of the most memorable, happiest, and fulfilling experiences. Without this blend of routine and risk-taking, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I’m sharing all of these aspects of myself with you not just to demonstrate duality, but to encourage you to let go of trying to fit a certain standard you or anyone else has created and instead embrace all of the unique and individual parts of yourself. Whether that looks like trying a new club, sport, class, instrument, etc., I encourage you to have an open mind and to explore as many different things as you can. Especially to the senior class, during a time when we’re making a lot of decisions and considering a lot of different things, I urge you to remember there is often not one perfect answer or place. Instead of pressuring ourselves to choose the perfect college, the perfect major, or even the perfect career, I encourage you all to have faith in your adaptability and embrace the duality in life. If not, maybe research your zodiac sign or something. Thank you!

Frances Bohner Thank you, Louisa and Molly, for that wonderful introduction. Louisa, you have been a constant inspiration in my life from the very beginning, and Molly, I honestly don’t know what I’ll do without you next year. To my parents, thank you for everything you do and for giving me so many incredible opportunities. I love you more than words can express. To everyone in the first few rows, thank you for taking the time out of your day to come hear me speak, you have all shaped my life in amazing ways and I couldn’t be more grateful. Lastly, a special shoutout to my Rat, Millie. I’m so thankful to be your Cat and hope your next six years at this amazing place are as memorable as mine have been. Throughout my life, I’ve found change to be a challenge. My life has been defined by consistency. I have lived in the same house since the day I was born, attended the same elementary school that the majority of my family either attended or worked at, and then transitioned smoothly to GPS—another place where, once again, everyone in my family had been before me. At GPS, my days consisted of the same schedule, rotating between school, practices, and homework, and I’ve always found comfort in this routine. So, when something unexpected or out of the ordinary occurs, it often tends to throw me for a loop. In these

situations, my mom reminds me of the phrase “Just go with the flow,” when I find myself overwhelmed or struggling to deal with the unexpected. To me, this phrase means embracing the unknown and letting go of the need to control every situation. These five words have been a lifeline for me, whether using them to navigate a difficult week at school or even the college process. It continues to help me adjust to change and remember the unexpected is not the end of the world. In the spring of my sophomore year, I found myself in a situation where I had to embrace the phrase “Just go with the flow” in ways I’d never expected. As much as I tried to fight the situation to maintain my routine, I was met with the harsh reality that there was simply no other option but to just let go and accept the situation. The day was May 6, 2023, and I was at a club swim meet at Baylor School when I received a text from my dad that read “Look at this cute little guy.” Attached was a photo of a strange-looking creature, which turned out to be a bat that had decided to nap on one of my towels in our laundry room. At the time, I didn’t think much of it and never once imagined it would become anything more than just a weird moment. After all, I was approximately 20 minutes and 11 miles away from my house, so what was the worry? Flash forward about two weeks later to May 19. By this time, I had completely forgotten about the bat and was more worried that my exams were just two days away and I had yet to start studying. When I finally got to studying, my computer screen lit up with an incoming Facetime call from my mom. The call started like any other, nothing out of the ordinary until it took a turn for the worse. She asked me, “Do you remember the bat that was in our house a couple of weeks ago?” I responded with a smile, thinking this was just a funny story time. However, she went on to explain that my dad had been at the doctor and happened to bring it up to a guy at the office. And so, a bit concerned, I went on to ask if the bat bit him. She went silent for a bit and then began, “No. But they think it might have come out from your swim bag and bit you while you were driving and you just didn’t notice. The Hamilton County health department told us you need to be treated for rabies immediately so you need to drive out to Erlanger right now.” I was shocked, confused, and genuinely thought my life was over. Naturally, as any average teenage girl would do, I went to Snapchat to deliver the news to my friends. Expecting to receive information or comforting words that might put me at ease, instead, I received a screenshot from my friend Gracie Pinkston where Google had stated “Rabies is nearly 100% fatal.” I immediately went to Google to see for myself, and maybe find one source to convince me that wasn’t true. However, the further I scrolled the harder it was to face the reality that the result of rabies is most certainly instant death. So, there I was, sending goodbye texts to all of my friends, my eyes swollen from tears, blasting sad music, and refusing to get into the car. As I wrote this Talk, I went back through the texts with my mom from that moment to relive the emotions. I was fighting the situation so much that my mom had to send me a whole paragraph, begging me to stop blowing up her phone, suggesting I talk to Snapchat AI instead, and even offering me Chick-fil-A as a bribe to get me into my car. After an hour of crying and begging my mom to at least put me on the prayer list at our church, I finally accepted my fate and walked to my car for what I thought was the last time ever. At that point, it didn’t even matter that I knew, deep down, that there was no earthly way the bat could have even bitten me in the first place; I had already accepted that this was the end. When I arrived at Erlanger, my mom had to drag me out of the car. Inside the hospital, I experienced just about every emotion, hysterically crying from a mix of sadness, anger, fear of death, or just the sheer absurdity of the situation. When my name was called for initial testing, I was far from cooperative. It got to the point where the doctor looked right at the Seaside shirt I was wearing, pointed at it, looked straight

into my eyes, and told me, “If you don’t listen to me then you’ll never go to Seaside again as you will be six feet under the ground in your grave.” That was the turning point. From that point on, I stopped resisting anything more from the doctors and instead accepted the situation. At times it was hard, such as when my nurse told me she had pet bats but never once had to get this treatment, or simply when she would ask me questions about my final exams or how swimming was going to distract me. I constantly searched for the negatives in the most dramatic way, telling her that my studying for my exams had been going great before I got dragged here, or that I would never be good at swimming again due to this. Throughout May and June, I made the drive to Erlanger several times a week, enduring sore arms and the occasional tears. On two of those days, I came home to find the health department had emptied our entire attic to check for bats. These days were worrisome, but little by little, I began to realize I could overcome this situation. In the end, I will never fully know if I ever had rabies, despite the fact the possibility was near to impossible. However, if I would’ve never endured these challenges, I may have never lived to tell the tale. Looking back, I’m grateful for the experience. Not only did it give me a chance to joke with my friends by threatening to bite them with my rabies, but it was also a memorable chapter in my life. Oddly enough, some of my best swim practices would happen the mornings after I received the shots. I initially told myself these shots would ruin my swimming for forever, but instead, they seemed to work like magic. This experience, although strange and a little dramatic, has truly shaped my outlook on life today. It has taught me that life isn’t always easy and most definitely will not always unfold the way we hope or expect. We won’t have control over all situations we encounter. However, you can control how you react. You can choose to embrace change rather than to fear it, to find humor in stressful moments, and to trust that in the end, everything will work out as it’s supposed to, even if not in the way we originally had hoped. I remember walking out of the hospital on the day I received my last shot with a sense of accomplishment, knowing that the situation had turned out to be not nearly as dramatic as I initially feared. I was still standing, still alive, and was fully saved from my apparent rabies and potential death. There are only 39 days before the Class of 2025 walks across the stage at Commencement and this chapter of our lives comes to a close. As we take our first steps into the next chapter of our lives, things will change drastically. Not every day will bring familiar faces, and not every path will lead us back to the comfort of what we’ve known for our entire lives. For many of us, new places, environments, people, and challenges lie ahead. And while it’s easy to feel anxious about these challenges, we must remember that obstacles are inevitable. Life might bring unexpected challenges in the form of a failed test, missed opportunity, or even a phantom bat bite. However, in these moments, it’s important to remember it’ll work itself out in the way it’s supposed to, so take a second to sit back and always remember to “just go with the flow.” Thank you.

Hazel Bolen Thank you, Lydia and Lakyn, for that sweet introduction. Lydia, I look up to you more than you know and I know I don’t say it enough but I love you, and Lakyn I don’t know where I would be without you by my side. To my parents, I want to say thank you for all the sacrifices you have made for me these past 17 years. I am truly grateful for everything you both have done for me, and thank you to my guest in the first few rows for taking time out of your day to come and hear me speak. And shout out to my Rat, Nora. I hope you enjoy every second here at GPS.

Growing up, I didn’t experience many changes: 1132 Carter Drive is the only address I have ever had. My parents and sister moved into my current house weeks before I was born. I attended the same school from Pre-K through eighth grade, having relatively the same friends. I became so used to having these constants in my life that every day began to feel like a comfortable routine. I became very stubborn when anything came between me and my routine, whether that was my family, friends, or school. It felt like the end of the world if it was disrupted. As the days went on I began to wonder why I felt such a need to stick to my routine. I didn’t understand what was holding me back from changing it, but no matter what I wasn’t able to. Early into my freshman year, I was formally diagnosed with anxiety. Though this isn’t always seen as a positive for everyone, it gave me a sense of comfort to know what I had been letting control me my whole life. I want to use my time today to express my struggle with anxiety and how I have grown from it. Up until freshman year, I was able to keep my routine consistent. However, knowing my school ended in eighth grade, I faced the challenge of going to a new school. During this change, was when I began to have more significant anxiety flare up, and it was also the first time I experienced panic attacks. In ninth grade, I walked into my new school looking around at faces I wasn’t familiar with. I no longer felt comfortable going to school. The routine I originally had was gone, something I relied on every day was just gone. The absence of my routine and the unfamiliarity of school became a significant cause of my anxiety. I began to hold myself back from trying to make new friends and going to events in fear of rejection. I also began to push my friends and family away because I felt as if I would be burdening them with my thoughts. I let those thoughts build up to the point where I started to experience panic attacks. During the attacks, it felt as if my thoughts were suffocating me and that I no longer had any control over myself. They prevented me from being able to do school work and even go to school at all some days. But being home was not always better. Being home reminded me that it was not only my freshman year but also my sister’s, and lucky for me, she wanted to go to college eight hours away. At the beginning, I didn’t understand how much it would affect me, because all I could think about was how I was excited for her and all the new opportunities she would have. But as time went on, not having her right across the hall was hard to get used to. I could no longer go and steal her clothes, rant to her about my problems, or blame her for the messy bathroom, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Not having her around led me to fixate on negative “what if” scenarios, trying to prepare myself for the worst possible outcomes. The scenarios would keep me up at night and would make it impossible to be happy for my sister because all I could do was worry. I began to pull myself away from our relationship in hopes that my thoughts would die down but ultimately I made things worse. The greater distance created more anxiety. I began to feel guilty for compromising our relationship in my head and was unsure of how to fix it. When she came home for breaks it helped calm my anxiety and made all the negative thoughts wash away. But the second she left they would pour back in. Throughout this year, I felt more alone than ever. I struggled with my anxiety in silence, thinking that I shouldn’t ask others for help because they had their own issues to deal with. I truly believed that the thoughts I was having were my fault and that the only way to calm them was by my doing. I refused to talk to others, thinking they wouldn’t be able to help or wouldn’t care, and I continued to believe that up until I was physically unable to solve my problems alone. As many of you know, I have also had many medical setbacks. Whether that was dislocating my knee on a desk in seventh grade or last year breaking my tibia in half at Waffle House during Baylor McCallie week. Due to these events and other complications, I was not only out of school for weeks on end but I was also stuck in my bed. My injuries frequently resulted in me either being on crutches or in a wheelchair. As you can imagine, I was not able to go about my day alone. Although I knew I needed help even to accomplish simple tasks such as getting myself water, I felt as if I was bothering others when I

needed assistance. As much as others offered to help me I struggled with the thought that they genuinely wanted to help. During this time, I began to lose myself in my thoughts. I would overthink about all the schoolwork I had missed, and it began a domino effect in my head. I had missed the first time to take the ACT and my grades were struggling. I quickly convinced myself that because of my absences, I wouldn’t be able to get into college and all my work would be for nothing. Socially I also had missed a lot and I feared going back to school would be hard and I would no longer be able to keep up with everything. As I was struggling with these thoughts I had many visitors come to see me. They would bring candy and flowers and as grateful as I was none of the gifts wouldn’t ultimately stop me from spiraling. That was up until Avery Cambell came to visit me. For a little back story, I met Avery going into sixth grade when she was my counselor at a summer camp I attend. During my sophomore year, we reconnected and started growing closer through YoungLife. We have gotten very close these past few years, and she has been someone I have always seen the Lord in. Avery had come to visit me numerous times and never failed to show up without Sonic. She would take the time out of her day to sit on my couch and just simply talk to me. I will admit during the time when I was stuck in my bed, I wasn’t very entertaining because all I could do was eat and sleep. But that didn’t deter her; she consistently would come to see me just to check on how I had been doing physically and mentally. Her consistency is what showed me that she genuinely cared. I began to open up to her and felt that my thoughts and anxiety would no longer be a burden. She was able to take me out of my head and stop me from spiraling more than I already had. Her consistency opened my eyes and showed me that I wasn’t alone and it reassured me that people do care. I no longer had to live in silence and in fear that I would bring others down. I realized that my anxiety wasn’t something I needed to be afraid to bring to others, it is something that many people deal with and shouldn’t have to be dealt with alone. With all of this, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I had found my new constant. Avery, whether you know it or not, you truly have changed my way of life. Whether that was you helping me mentally or you being a part of my relationship with the Lord. I am beyond grateful for the impact you have had on me. In no way am I saying I have mastered my anxiety because that would be far from the truth, but I just wanted to share how I have found light in it all. If there’s one takeaway from my Talk, it’s this: Anxiety is a challenge that many people face and can often feel isolating. I encourage everyone to be a source of support for someone or to seek out your own support. In other words, Galatians 6:2 “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Thank you!

Adelaide Bond Thank you, Drew, Madeline, Arianna, and Ethan, for your heartfelt introductions. Each of you means the world to me and has played a crucial role in shaping who I am today. I am extremely grateful to the Lord for blessing me with such incredible and supportive siblings. My love for you all is immeasurable. To my mom and dad, thank you for the countless sacrifices you’ve made to help me reach this moment. Your unwavering support and patience mean more to me than words can express. I am deeply thankful for everything you’ve done and for the boundless love you’ve given me. I love you both with all my heart.

And a special shout-out to my beloved Rat, Sophie. You are a true delight and I’m so thrilled to spend this year with you. Remember to savor every moment you get here and to cherish every experience, for they are fleeting but precious. At the beginning of the summer, right after school ended, my family and I went on vacation to a beach in Alabama. However, as soon as we arrived, I felt severely homesick. My mind raced with worries about the future. This fear frenzy led me to ask questions like, "Will I have friends to hang out with this summer? I hate being lonely." I also wondered, "How will work be this year with new coworkers?" On top of all of these fear-based questions, I found myself preoccupied with all the things I needed to improve about myself. This constant anxiety made me irritable and on edge. My dad started to notice something was off and he invited me to go on a walk with him along the beach. While we were walking he gently asked me what was wrong. At first, I didn’t say much, but after a while, I opened up about my homesickness and my fear about ensuring my future happiness. My dad looked me in the eyes and said, “Your happiness isn’t somewhere in the future, it is right now in this moment.” After that moment I realized that I wouldn’t find true happiness by focusing solely on where I end up or what the future holds. Instead, I needed to value and embrace who I am becoming in the present moment. But being present is often more challenging than it seems. I frequently find myself distracted by my phone or by trivial things, which prevents me from focusing on anything truly meaningful. The constant rush and endless distractions of modern life can also easily overwhelm us and prevent us from focusing on what matters. While my dad and I were discussing this topic, the words from an ancient text weighed heavily on my heart. One of the teachings of the historical figure Jesus resonated deeply with me. Matthew 6:34 says, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” I realized that this perspective on how to live is the best way for me. By focusing on what I can control rather than what I can’t, I find relief from anxieties and worries about the future. Instead of living in constant fear of the unknown, I now concentrate on what is right in front of me. Growing up, I often felt anxious and apprehensive about swim practice. I remember during swim practice, I’d constantly worry about the next day’s session, to the point where the thought of it would make me sick to my stomach. Realizing I needed to make a change or I might quit, I decided to approach swimming differently by focusing on being fully present and taking things one day at a time. During practice, I started concentrating on each movement, stroke, and breath, which helped me better manage my thoughts and feelings. As I was practicing presence I found myself a lot less worried and stressed. I started to really enjoy the sport, especially with my teammates. Swimming demands significant mental strength and focus, and being present in each aspect of the sport allowed me to improve as both a swimmer and as a person. Although being present requires a lot of practice and discipline, the rewards are profound and lead to a more fulfilling life. When we ground ourselves in the present, we open our hearts to fully experience and appreciate the blessings and opportunities before us. Embracing the present can cultivate a deeper connection with others. It allows us to engage meaningfully in our daily experiences and relationships. Living in the moment invites us to experience life more fully and to find joy and fulfillment in our current circumstances. This perspective transforms our approach to life, making us more aware of the blessings we have and more attuned to our spiritual or personal growth. It helps us build a richer, more meaningful existence.

When I make a conscious decision to be present I am able to better understand and mentor my friends. By focusing on the moment, I can more effectively support and serve the people who matter most to me. Without making the effort to be intentional and present, I wouldn’t be able to offer the same level of support and care to the people I feel called to serve. In essence, being present leads us to a more fulfilling life by helping us appreciate and fully engage with the gifts and challenges of each moment. When you focus on what truly matters, life becomes much less stressful and overwhelming, especially when concentrating on one day at a time. It’s important to remember not to constantly worry about where you’ll go to college, whether you’ll get that job, or when you’ll master a new skill. Everything takes time to unfold, and worrying about it won’t change the outcome. While you can’t control the future, you can control your actions, thoughts, and feelings in the present moment. We all have to come to terms with the reality that there are many things about tomorrow that we have no control over. This can elicit living in fear. I am no stranger to living in fear but I have found a source of strength that allows me to be more present in the moment and allows me to let go of the fear that is attached to the future. The way I personally have come to terms with my own limited power over tomorrow is the belief that I am loved unconditionally by God and that my future is in his hands. God has become my ultimate resource for my past failings, my present stresses, and my future fears. Each day, as I spend time with him, I am filled with his wisdom and Spirit. He guides and leads me daily, providing peace and direction in my life. I want to ensure that I don’t look back and realize I wasted my life and potential chasing after the phantom of being in complete control. My goal is to live each day fully present so that I can serve those I am called to with intentionality and wisdom. I’ll probably fall short of this goal on a daily basis but I believe it’s a worthy ideal to strive for and I have concluded it is the best way to live. Since tomorrow is not promised, we should cherish every moment and avoid wasting the time we have. Let’s focus on what truly matters today and live with intention, presence, and purpose. I understand that being fully present all the time isn’t always realistic. It’s something that requires practice and effort. No one can achieve perfection, but we should all strive to make a conscious effort to become more present in our daily lives. I’ll leave you with a quote from the famous Dale Carnegie; he states, “Remember today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.” Thank you!

Tessie Braman Thank you, Carley, for that sweet introduction. I couldn’t have asked for a better big sister! Thanks for always being there for me. I love you so much. Thank you to my parents also, for the countless sacrifices you’ve made for me to be here. I love y’all more than you know. Also, thank you to guests for coming to hear me speak, and lastly, shoutout to my Rat, Audrey You’re the sweetest! I love you and I hope you enjoy your years at GPS as much as I have. Knowledge, for me, comes through my teachers, textbooks, and coaches. These sources provide the information and skills I need to succeed academically and personally. I need this knowledge to pass classes, run faster, get into college, and eventually find a job. As a student, I know knowledge is extremely important, but as a person I’d argue wisdom is more important. Proverbs 16:16 says, “Possess wisdom​, for it is better than gold. And acquire prudence for it is more precious than silver.” With this, I couldn’t agree more. Wisdom isn’t something you can simply find in a textbook. For me, it comes from

family. Regardless of how you might view your upbringing, I believe there’s always something to be gained from any experience, good or bad. Throughout my life, my parents and grandparents have taught me many important lessons that I’ve intentionally and unintentionally implemented throughout my life. Every summer for years growing up, my dad invited his childhood friends and their kids over for a weekend camp out, infamously known as the “kids camp out.” At the kids’ camp out, I was forced to hangout with a group of kids, most of whom I’d never met. I remember my dad telling me to always be inclusive of all the kids and that I wasn’t allowed to just hangout with my best friend, Courtney. At the time I saw this as completely outrageous because I had no interest in making new friends when the one I had was plenty enough for me, but now I see how important this advice really is. If I had never reached out to play with the other kids, I would have never watched Luke and Anna Mercer run full speed, punching through the glass of the playroom window, or played “Who can stay locked in the chicken shed the longest?” I would’ve never seen Calder run inside screaming because he thought Bigfoot ate Lawton or participated in the four-wheeler and dirt bike races through the woods. Getting to know the other kids resulted in many lifelong memories and friendships. Being inclusive is something my dad has always stressed. Even outside of the kids camp out, I’ve carried this advice with me. I can remember being in elementary school and forcing myself to branch out and ask the other kids to play even if I wasn’t entirely thrilled with the idea of broadening my social circle. As the kind of person who is more than okay with a small group of close friends, I feel I’ve gotten better at making sure no one feels left out. I’ve found there is more good in being inclusive because it can lead to memories and friendships you otherwise may not have. Before internalizing the wisdom from my parents, this was something I really wrestled with. But at the same time I began to feel lonely and isolated when my siblings moved off to college and got jobs. My mom, being an only child, instilled in me the wisdom of understanding the difference between feeling lonely and being alone. I have since discovered a whole new side of me that is completely independent and content being alone. Yes, I love the occasional social event or an outing with my friends, but some weekends, I want nothing more than to spend time alone running, fishing, or watching videos of people restoring old European castles. If you know me at all, you probably have encountered my love for laughter. Even if you don’t know me, you have most likely heard my cackle reverberate down the halls and off the walls of the cafeteria. Do not be mistaken: My recognizable laugh isn’t something I particularly want to brag about. In fact, I often find it extremely embarrassing. But something my grandma has always said to me is, “You just gotta laugh and have a sense of humor.” While at the ripe age of 92, my grandma Barbra can be quite crabby, I like to think that I got my bubbly personality from her. At this time in our lives (especially us seniors), it can be really easy to put on our blinders and put all of our energy and focus into academics. While grades and getting into college are important I encourage you to make sure you cut out time for spending with family, in your faith and with your friends. Juniors, easier said than done… but what got me through were not the moments I spent studying and writing LEQs; it was the moments I spent not worrying about deadlines and word counts. Finding things that make you happy is so important. For my grandma it’s walking. Every morning for as long as I can remember my grandmother wakes up, and goes on a walk. She’ll need a hand to get up from the rocker and sometimes can’t remember things she should, but walking makes her happy and brings her peace. Finding that one thing that makes you happy that you can count on to be steadfast is so important. For grandma it’s walking. Whether she’s happy, mad, or looking for that old man she once told me she thought was “a cutie,” she walks. For some people it’s a sunrise, it’s a song, it’s a prayer, but I encourage you to find a reliable source of joy or calm that you can turn to make you smile or provide a moment of tranquility in the rush of everyday life.

My grandma will be the second to shame you (my mama would be the first) for missing church on Sunday. Unable to drive, or walk without her stick and bunions so big I didn’t know possible, if she can be there, she sees no excuse for not being in that front pew come Sunday. My grandmother’s faith and relationship with God is something I look up to so much. Although we don’t talk about the Lord often when we are together, he shines through her and it’s impossible to miss. I think there is a lot of wisdom that can be observed by noticing the way she holds God close to her heart. Her unwavering passion for the things and people she loves is incredibly inspiring, and a quality I hope to embody at least half as well as she does. Listening to my dad constantly reminding me to be kind and inclusive, and my mom assuring me that there are ways to enjoy being alone has taught me so much wisdom. I no longer fight over who gets to be whose best friend. I don’t like to see someone off on their own, even though I now understand how freeing it can be to be alone. The freedom and relaxation can honestly be like a breath of fresh air. My grandmother taught me that it’s OK to let go of the small worries in life and to embrace laughter and a more lighthearted perspective. She taught me that finding little moments of joy is key to maintaining happiness. The way she loves so deeply for her friends, family, and faith inspires me to build deeper connections with those around me and with the Lord. If there’s one thing I want you to take from this Talk, it’s to pay attention to your family and listen to the words they have to say. Their insights and advice can offer valuable lessons and guidance that we might not gain otherwise. Nobody is perfect but by listening to their advice, we can draw from their experiences and make wiser choices in our own lives. Lastly, I’d like to close with another quote from Proverbs, “A wise warrior is better than a strong one, and a man of knowledge than one of strength; for you should wage war with sound guidance—victory comes with many counselors.” Thank you!

Ella Brandon Thank you to my dad for that wonderful introduction. To you and my mom, thank you for all your support and love. To everyone in the first few rows, thank you for coming to hear me speak, it means a lot. And to my Rat, Scarlett: I’m so lucky to be your Cat, and I hope your years at GPS are filled with joy. Also, happy election day—acknowledging it is an obligation since I’m in AP Gov. I remember back in middle school, we were given an art class assignment where we had to draw a collage of things that made up our identity. This was before I had any idea I’d end up at GPS. At that age, it was simple for me to determine the little things that made me who I am. I knew what I liked, what I wanted, the activities I did, and the small circle of people who surrounded me and infused me with their values. When you’re younger, you don’t really question identity. I believed in identity without really knowing what it was. So when did that change? Now, as I’m sure many of you can relate, as we approach the end of high school, it has become more and more required and expected of us to have ourselves figured out. It seems like we’re expected to know where we want to go in life, to have a deep-seated purpose that we’re not only passionate about, but good at, and have a long resume full of steps we’ve taken towards this future goal. And if you don’t, well, fake it till you make it. Because on the outside at least, you must appear to have your life in control.

Having to face identity head on like this made me really scrutinize the word for the first time. You hear it thrown around all the time. I admit to using it extensively in essays to analyze a character or a theme, all the while thinking to myself, what even is an identity? What does that mean? And so, I’ve found myself recently having to revisit my own identity. Over the years since being that middle-schooler, at times I’ve felt I’ve lost it somewhere along the way. Luckily, I still remember most of the things I drew on that art piece, and thinking back on my life experiences revealed a lot about my own journey with identity. The collage I made was full of symbols for things I liked or enjoyed doing. A penguin, which will always be my favorite animal, a paintbrush for my hobby of making art, a tennis shoe for cross country, a gear for robotics, a cross for my religious beliefs, and finally a four-leaf clover for my family. However, the pieces of this identity that I used to accept without question fell apart as I entered high school. It wasn’t because they were all completely superficial. They were, in part, because my world as a kid was so much smaller than it is now. I was admittedly, as you are when you’re younger, much more focused on myself than the world around me, and small things like the items I drew on that piece of paper didn’t seem so very small. When I came to GPS in ninth grade, it was the first time I’d been in a drastically new environment since kindergarten. Being 40 minutes away from home made it start to feel like I was living in a separate sphere from my family as well. Being a generally reserved and quiet person made it uncomfortable to adjust. I remember taking a personality test where my answers for the traits expected of you on a daily basis vs. the traits you thought you had were very different. I began feeling disconnected from the things happening around me every day as a way to avoid this discomfort and just ’get by’, like I was watching my life like a movie while I automatically lived it. It especially affected my relationships, and made it hard to be confident with being open and getting to know people right at the time that I needed to. The thing is, opening my eyes to a larger world made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. And therefore, what made me who I am wasn’t good enough. It also made me question old beliefs and values, shaking the core of my moral compass. Not feeling secure with who you are makes life feel aimless, and can cause anxiety towards having to choose the path of your own future. At times, identity for me has been a nebulous concept because it doesn’t define anything concrete. The simple use of identity is for a single category a person or thing falls under, something you can ’identify’ them or it as. But in the context you often hear it in, there are always multiple parts that ’make up’ a single identity. I’ve seen it used so many times in such a concrete way to try to explain a person’s motivation or perspective. However, in real life it is much more complicated. It is not just a personality, the collection of your life experiences, or any of your traits, but rather all of that combined. It took me a while to grasp that an identity is the way in which all those moving parts affect each other and the person. Contemplating all this made me realize that the sense of having an identity—being confident in knowing who you are—is an actual part of the identity. This sense was what my younger self had that had made me so confident in who I was. So, what were some of the things I did to try and reconnect with my sense of self? A big one was trying new things. That’s the best way to figure out what you enjoy doing, especially if you’ve forgotten or grown tired of old things. One for me was Mock Trial, which I ended up loving, but it can be anything as small as going out of your comfort zone, like talking to someone you don’t normally talk to. The important thing is not being afraid of being bad at something. That’s what keeps you from finding what you love. Taking a deep breath, relaxing, and spending time with the people you love, people who accept you with no strings attached, I’ve found is one of the most important things to prioritize. My senior year, making

sure to spend and savor time with my family has been bittersweet, knowing that I’m about to enter another stage of my life, but I think it has made my important relationships stronger. Being too stuck in my head also didn’t give me much chance to test my identity out on the world. Not just worrying too much about what other people thought of me, but worrying that I was not as good as those around me, prevented me from finding happiness in doing my best. For example, with running, even though I still have bad weeks sometimes, I can now appreciate my own personal accomplishments and the good feeling it leaves you with. Keeping an open mind about the parts of your identity is also important. It’s a good thing to question beliefs that are ingrained in you, so long as you continue questioning them. Instead of shutting down to, in my case, religion, it has been beneficial to me to revisit it and stay patient and curious as I explore and figure out my own beliefs. I’m thankful to my mom, who played a big part in teaching me that lesson. An open mind is also important when thinking about identity as a whole. It’s something that’s always changing, and something I’ll probably end up struggling with a million more times. But even though I have to be reminded, something we all should believe is that we are enough. I am enough. To anyone struggling with feeling lost like I have, you are enough. Knowing that, and holding on to it as we tussle and tumble with identity, gives us the confidence to grow, and keep growing, through each of our unique and valuable experiences of this life. Thank you.

Ansley Bratcher My Constants Thank you, Payton and McKamey, for those amazing introductions. Payton, you are truly the bestest friend ever. I am so lucky to be your best friend and can’t wait to see what the future holds for us. McKamey, you are the best sister ever, even though sometimes we get on each other’s nerves I wouldn’t trade all these years for anything. Thank you, Momma and Daddy, for the amazing opportunities that you have given me, from playing sports to attending this amazing school. I am so grateful for all you do for me. Thank you to the people in the first few rows for coming to hear me speak. Y’all have impacted my life in such significant ways, and I love y’all! And lastly shout out to my Rat, Lola. You are the sweetest and smartest Rat ever. Tasha and I are so lucky to be your Cats. Cherish the next seven years here because it will fly by before you know it. For the past 17 years, I have grown up around amazing people and experiences. I have also developed some things that are day-to-day in my life. The Oxford Languages define a constant as “occurring continuously over a period of time.” So today I want to tell you about some of the constants in my life. First is my family. My family has impacted me in so many ways. They have given me the opportunities to do the things that I love and enjoy. My mom has given me the confidence and amazing fashion sense to go out and know that I am enough and the only opinion that matters is my own. My dad has helped me with my anxiety that I developed the past few years and is always there to listen and give me a hug when needed. My Meemee and Poc go to each of my games and are not afraid to do some crafts with me. My Nana and Popop help me with my sports and are always there to support me. And all my aunts, uncles, and cousins have always shown me unwavering support. Lastly, my sister, McKamey, and I have always

been extremely close since we played volleyball and softball together. We always enjoy telling each other about our weekends, especially if we had softball tournaments. Always laughing about all the changeups we missed and weird slides we did into bases. And binge watching one of our favorite shows together Supernatural. My family is my main constant. They are always there and have been since the moment God put me in this world, and I know they will stand by me forever. I love y’all so much! My second constant is my friends. I struggled to fit into a friend group when I was younger, but in middle school I got so lucky to meet and get close with my best friend Payton. We had known each other since elementary school but never became close until eighth grade. We shared our common love of musicals, dance, and turtles with each other. This filled me with a sense of excitement and thrill because I had finally met someone that shared a similar interest. After eighth grade we were going to different schools: me at GPS and her at Soddy Daisy. Even though we go to different schools, we are closer than ever. From going to her brother’s baseball tournaments with her and her coming to my softball games, we are always there for each other. I always look forward to seeing her and watching her dance at her recitals. When I came to GPS, I once again struggled to find my friend group, but at the end of sophomore year I found all of my best friends. We have all grown as people and friends this past year and a half. It is hard to remember a time when I didn’t have my best friends with me—from doing National History Day with Brie and Tasha to struggling in French class with Ameila and all of us getting ready together before each dance. I love y’all so much and can’t wait for all of y’all to be my bridesmaids at my wedding. Sports are my third constant. I started playing softball at the age of four and have been playing ever since. My thing in softball has always been hitting and, over the past five years, I have really excelled in my hitting. I am a third and first baseman and catcher. I have been playing travel/club softball for most of my life. Starting with my first team, the Diamond Divas, and ending with the most fun team ever: Force Elite Rogers. I have grown so much from playing this sport. Not only have I grown physically but mentally as well as my confidence in myself has increased so much. The best part about softball is you’re never done learning as it is a game of mistakes and you can learn something new and try something new every game and every practice. I am truly grateful to all of my coaches over these past 13 years, so thank you. I am also a volleyball player. I have been playing volleyball since I was seven years old, starting at the Soddy Daisy kids club and growing to be on the high school team all four years. I am not the best player, but I truly have put full effort in not only my skills, but being a good teammate in the process. Sports have impacted my life in so many ways from getting so close to my sister to becoming the person I am today. I can’t imagine my life without sports, and I thank all my coaches and my parents for all you have done for me. Lastly, my religion is a constant. I am a Christian. Since the day I was born, I knew God was and would continue to look out for me and guide me through each step in my life. He gave me everything that I have talked about here today. He helped me grow closer to him these last four years through my family and best friends. My Meemee, Mom, and Dad have always been willing to answer any questions I have and helped me look to him for guidance and answers when it comes to important aspects of my life such as school, sports, and even my anxieties. He led me to Caiden, and she has helped me grow my relationship with him since the moment we met. I just want to say thank you to my family and friends for pushing me to grow closer to God, and I want to thank God for never giving up on me and always being willing to listen. These are my constants in my life. The reason I shared my constants with you all today was to encourage you to look at your constants in your life. If it is something small or big it does not matter because it is yours. Find the things that constantly bring you joy and nourish them. To the Class of 2025 we will be leaving for college in less than a year, so while we get this time with our friends and family before we leave, I encourage you to find and keep those constants in your life. Thank you!

Lauren Brockman Thank you, Maddie, for that introduction. Your friendship means the world to me, and I wouldn’t want to call anyone else my best friend. Thank you to my mom and dad for always being there for me. I know I don’t say it enough, but I’m so grateful for you guys. I don’t know where I’d be right now without you. Happy Birthday to Momma Flynn. Thank you for spending your day with me. Shoutout to my Rat, Nora! I hope you make the best memories here and enjoy it as much as I have. At the beginning of 2024, I felt alone. Isolated in a world full of people. I was surrounded by people who loved me, but it didn’t feel that way. In the months prior to the new year, I had gotten into the gym, and I was getting it okay. I had been thriving—living my best life, if you will. The gym had become a place where I could finally see progress in myself and start to learn to love the reflection I saw in the mirror. My confidence was getting better, and everything around me seemed to be going great. I had a group of friends that loved me. It was my sister’s first year at college, and I had the house to myself. Everything was looking up, and it was the best it had been in a while. But the new year changed that. The progress I had gained plummeted. My health, my grades, my thoughts, and my relationships were all going downhill, and I couldn’t figure out why. I became closed off. A new person who I didn’t recognize looked back at me in the mirror. I was scared. I was lost. And I didn’t know why. This continued into the summer when my family went on a vacation to Puerto Rico. My energy was low. My social battery was giving out. My quickness to anger was showing. It felt like everyone hated me. And I started to hate myself too. This was the beginning of some of the worst couple of months for me. After that trip, it felt like my world was falling apart. Nothing made sense. I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I no longer put effort into seeing my friends. I didn’t even want to walk down the stairs to see my family. I had changed. Everything about me had changed. Ever since we had gotten back from that trip, my bed had been my best friend. I slept all day. Just wasting away every second of the long days, hoping things would get better. Now, I had a doctor’s appointment one day to get a B-12 shot, which, if you don’t know, it’s supposed to boost your metabolism and make you feel better. News flash: this little shot wasn’t doing anything for me. At all. A few days after my shot, I sent my lovely mom this text, and I quote: “I think I’m dying. For 2 reasons. 1. My arm is burning from when I got my B-12 shot on Monday. 2. I’ve been on my period since Puerto Rico.” Now, everyone might think this is a bit exaggerated for just a little arm pain, but wait. This is how my mom responded, and I quote: “No you’re not dying. For 2 reasons. 1. Arm doesn’t determine whether you live or die. 2. Welcome to the joys of being a woman. That [bleep] will be a pain in your butt for years to come! Lots of love!” Now, for those of you who have had the honor of knowing my mom, you know that she never thinks anything is wrong. Like the time I broke my leg in fifth grade, and she didn’t take me to the hospital for four hours after the incident occurred because there was no way I broke my leg the first day I joined the climbing team. But anyway, I love you, Mom! Despite my mom’s reassurance, I still had to go back to the doctor to get my blood drawn because my period had continued for another two weeks. Within those two weeks, my energy was at an all-time low. No getting out of bed, no eating, no talking-- all I was doing was sleeping. Then my mom FaceTimed me and woke me out of my glorious slumber with some not-great news but definitely an answer to almost all of my problems. My blood work showed that my thyroid had stopped working at the end of 2023. This

explained my weight gain, lack of energy, and mood swings. You name it, and my thyroid was connected to it. As any worried teenager would do, I looked up what your thyroid does. Now listen, guys, Google had a lot to say, let me just tell you. This mass of information was terrifying and overwhelming to read. My mom was actually the person I should’ve gone to first because she’s actually had her thyroid removed. She calmed my nerves and told me everything was going to be okay. And that medicine would fix everything. So I went back to the doctor so she could tell me all about this newfound autoimmune disease, and, to my surprise, she told me that if she had not caught my thyroid by December of 2024, I would have gone into liver failure and passed away. So this is to my mom: I was dying! I knew I was dying. But at least I am still here to tell my story. Now, I think all of you are starting to wonder, why is this girl up here talking about some autoimmune disease? Well, I think it’s important to talk about not only the highs in life but also the lows. The year 2024 was one of the lowest years I had had, but from that, I gained perspective. And perspective is the one thing that kept me going. I was so stuck in a mindset of “everything is horrible all the time” that I forgot to look around me and be grateful for what I had. And I encourage all of you to tell your story as well. Even though no one goes through the exact same thing in life, everyone still goes through their own hard times. And talking about what was going on in my life to my friends and family helped me realize that I wasn’t alone. That my feelings of loneliness, low self-esteem, and worry are all okay. All feelings are valid and should be understood and heard. Some of the good things that came out of 2024 were getting a new job, making new friendships, ending my junior year with a GPS ring on my finger that I had longed for, and starting my senior year. All of my negative thoughts had been crowding out all of the good things that were happening right in front of me. I’m not saying to forget about the bad and focus on the good because I don’t think that’s helpful or even possible. But even on bad days, try to acknowledge the good as well. And now that is what I do. I find something small that’s good when I’m having a bad day. Even just being able to wake up for the start of the new day is a blessing. Sometimes, it won’t feel that way, but there’s always something to be grateful for to keep you going. Like Mandy Hale said, “Be grateful for every second of every day that you get to spend with the people you love. Life is so very precious.” Thank you!

Merritt Bryan Thank you, Autumn and Adley, for introducing me today. You have both had an incredible impact on my life, and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without either of you. And thank you to my parents for always supporting me and providing me with the opportunities I need to succeed and thrive. And shoutout to my Rat, Waverly. I hope your time at GPS is just as special as mine has been. And lastly, shoutout to the Lyons den. Y’all are the best. Okay. If I were to ask you to “show a little grace,” what would that look like? What comes to mind? What is grace and why does it matter? If you’re not exactly sure, that’s okay, because I did not have the answer to this question myself for a very long time. However, after careful consideration and self reflection, I

believe I have found the answer to these questions, and am able to recognize the role that grace has played over the course of my life. To begin, showing grace, as source MerriamWebster.Com defines it, is “disposition to or an act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemency.” And while I do believe this to be accurate, I feel it goes further than that. By my definition, showing grace is the ability to look past the faults and actions of others, see them as natural human traits, and show forgiveness and understanding as you would want it to be shown to you. Now, this topic of showing grace stood out to me, because it isn’t a characteristic that has come easily to me. Matter of fact, I was notoriously known as the stubborn and sometimes short-tempered one out of my siblings growing up. This is because I found it more challenging to bring myself to show grace, and forgive those who had crossed me than it was to act on my anger or hold a grudge for days on end. A few notable examples of this could be any of the many times throughout my adolescence that my sister crossed me in some way or another. Though she is two years older than me, my younger self’s first response would always be to resort to physical altercations. And even once broken up, I was left still angry, planning my next mode of revenge. Or, the time when Adley and I were at our elementary school aftercare, and she angered me in some way, so, naturally, I took her lunch box and smacked her upside the head with it, only to realize once she shrieked in pain and started to cry that it had glass tupperware inside. I narrowly escaped an aftercare write up that day. Or, the times when I would call shotgun for a car ride, and one of my siblings insisted that they called it first, and jumped into the front seat before I had the chance to. In these scenarios, my immediate response was to physically remove them from the front seat, even if it was by their hair, or required biting and/or scratching. (Luckily after enough of these encounters, a weekly schedule for who got the front seat and when was put into place.) But, case and point. And, it wasn’t until I was much older that I started to shed these tendencies and understand the true value and importance of showing those around us grace and forgiveness. But what was it that brought me to this understanding? I came to this conclusion after realizing how impactful the grace of another was on me. To many, it’s no secret that my first couple of years in high school were especially rough. The adjustment to a new environment, academic course load, and social norms, all while just figuring out being a teenager and what accompanies it, caused a great strain on me mentally. I coped negatively and let my internal struggles control me, which manifested into even worse anxiety, the need to feel in control, and a declining sense of my own value. This mentality followed me into my sophomore year. As well as the detachment of value in myself, I also detached value from my actions. I got into a habit of frequently making poor decisions, despite those decisions’ effects on others. And unfortunately, by “others” I primarily mean my mom. Now, I wouldn’t necessarily say I was BAD, but I certainly had my fair share of lapses in judgment. As a result, I found myself grounded for the majority of my sophomore year. I found myself angry with these outcomes and took it out on the person closest to me. My mom. And regardless of how just the repercussions were, I showed no mercy when expressing my discontentment with her. However, looking back on these times, it isn’t our arguments that I remember, or the actions that prompted my reprimanding, but rather the grace and compassion that she showed me despite it all. Even when I didn’t realize it myself, she saw that my behaviors and treatment of her were merely faults, and didn’t define my true character. She not only forgave me, but embraced me with the same love and compassion she always has, time and time again, even when I didn’t deserve it. And it is because of her unconditional love and persistence in the fact that I am more than my mistakes and adversities, that I feel I was able to start believing it myself.

My mom’s response to my choices shows me exactly what it means to show grace. Showing grace is looking past the faults and actions of others, seeing them as natural and human, and still showing forgiveness and understanding. She is my blueprint. And without having experienced her example, I’m not sure of the value this concept would hold in my life today. But, because of it, I work and practice extending grace and showing forgiveness to others in my everyday life, as I have been shown by her. Now extending grace is not about ignoring or excusing any and all actions of those around us, but understanding one another’s faults and human tendency to make mistakes. Grace is the quiet understanding that we all need time to heal and room to grow. Grace is the demonstration of compassion, and acceptance of our individual paths and the struggles that will encompass them. By learning the value of showing grace to one another, and grasping these truths, I’ve been able to develop a new sense of humility, patience, and strength, and these I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Now, all in all, I do wish that it hadn’t taken me so long to become equipped with this mindset. And had I gained it sooner, maybe there would have been a few fewer fights, bruises, and pulled hair among me and my siblings growing up. And maybe, we could’ve avoided the periods of resentment in my early teen years I had for my mom, and her guidance following each of my mistakes. But, what matters most is that I have it now. And I can share this value with others and extend the same grace I have been shown, to those around me. So, to Mom: I want to say thank you for not only instilling this value in me, but serving as my constant example of hard work, compassion, and resilience. I don’t say it enough, but I love you, appreciate you, and thank you for seeing past my faults and showing me unwavering grace no matter the circumstance. Now finally to close, I’d like to leave you all with a quote by Theo Von that I just feel fits the theme well, which states: “And all any of us are is just kids that are getting older, you know, and just trying our best in the world. And sometimes, it takes time, you can’t really force it, but I think we can get into practices that help us get closer to forgiveness, and that’s where I wanna be.” Thank you.

Sadie Buhrman Thank you, Cameron and Anna Kate, for that very sweet introduction. You mean the world to me and I love you both so much. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for giving me all the opportunities in the world and loving me endlessly. I don’t know what I would do without you. I would also like to thank all my guests in the first few rows, it means so much to me that you’re here. Also, special thanks to Chef Richard for making my reception food. You’re so awesome and GPS would not be the same without you. Last but not least, shoutout to my amazing Rats, London and Reese. You are both so incredibly kind and I have loved being your Cat. I’m so excited to watch you start your journeys here at GPS because I know you’re both going to love it just as much as I do. At this time in my life, I am about to experience some significant changes. I’m turning 18 next year. I’m leaving for college in less than 10 months. These are changes that, to be quite honest, I’m really scared of. For a long time, I didn’t like when things changed. I didn’t like it when I moved from fifth to sixth grade and didn’t have recess anymore. I didn’t like my bedtime changing from nine to eight when summer was over. I was fearful of these things because they weren’t normal to me. I wanted my life to stay the way it was.

Now, I’ve become more receptive to change because I’ve taught myself to remember that I’ll always have some parts of my life that will stay the same. For instance, I’ve always been scared of bugs, my favorite movie has always been Tangled, and my hair has always been curly. These are aspects of my life that will most likely never change. In the wake of changes, it’s important to be cognizant of what’s consistent in your life. There’s a lot that has changed in my life, but there are a few changes that are meaningful to me. The first is coming to GPS before the start of my sophomore year. I was so scared that I wouldn’t find my place and that I was making the wrong decision, and that’s what the most intimidating part was. There was no way for me to know if things were going to be okay or not, which made me so afraid of this change. I remember the night before my first day of school and how I was contemplating whether or not this next step was best for me. It was difficult to think about leaving behind everything I knew so well and jumping into something completely new, but immediately after opening day, I knew I had found a place that would allow me to be the best version of myself, and also accept that version of me with open arms. Here, I’ve seen and experienced how girls uplift each other in every aspect of life. I’ve found a group of friends who have treated me with the utmost kindness since my first day and have shown me the most authentic form of friendship. I’ve been challenged to work and think my hardest, especially in APUSH. I’ve been encouraged to share my thoughts, like the time in Ms. Berotti’s AP Lang class when we all rhetorically analyzed Met Gala looks. I’ve also dedicated myself to learning new and engaging ideas, specifically funny jokes from Mr. Lyons. I’ve experienced what it means to be a GPS girl firsthand and, can honestly say, I’ve never been a part of something like this. Although this change was a little bit unnerving at first, I don’t regret it at all. Another change I’ve undergone has been switching dance styles. Since I was three, I’ve solely focused on ballet. I did the Nutcracker every year and all the recitals, which were honestly very fun. Ballet was something I truly enjoyed and still do, but as I got older, I lost interest in it. It felt like a chore going to class each day and not something I truly wanted to be doing. As I transitioned to GPS, I decided to try Terpsichord. It was hard for me to determine if it would be right for me or if I would be able to pick up everything fast enough. At first, it seemed daunting to change styles of dance and let go of the one I had been doing for so long. I wasn’t even sure if I would be good at modern dance. Once again, this change was so scary because it was something unknown. Despite all this, I quickly realized that Terpsichord was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. Everyone was so welcoming and, soon enough, it felt like I had a second family. Going into the dance studio was the thing I looked forward to at the end of every day, not something that felt like a chore. And, after some time, modern dance started to feel more familiar to me. All the countless hours we’ve spent together trying to figure out counts for a dance the day before a show or warming up to songs by Justin Timberlake has made this seemingly big change not so big. Now, this style of dance feels like a constant in my life, and I truly couldn’t imagine my life without it. I’m so glad I decided to make this change because if I hadn’t I would’ve never been introduced to so many amazing people and experiences. I’ll forever be thankful to Terpsichord and everyone involved in it, and I’ll forever be thankful for this change in my life. Unlike these changes, I’ve had things that have always stayed the same in my life, such as my family. My dad has continuously shown me the importance of unconditional love in the way he loves me, always choosing to put my well-being over his. I also know that he’ll always attend my dance concerts even

though he was upset the first time he watched the Nutcracker because they weren’t talking. He truly is the best dad, and that is something that I know will never change. My mom has always been the person I can tell all my problems to because I know she will always listen. I also know that she’ll always say yes when I ask to watch the Harry Potter movies with her, even though she’s probably seen them at least a million times. I can’t quite put into words how much she means to me, but it’s a lot, and I love her so much for who she is and all that she does. My sister, Cameron, has always been my biggest inspiration. She’s always honest with me, even if it means telling me my outfit is ugly, and I don’t take it personally because I know she just wants the best for me. We also always make sure to get into a fight at least every other week, and it doesn’t count unless it’s about something stupid like a shirt I stole from her. Despite this, she is and will always be the best sister to me. My family are the people I know I can come back to when everything else around me feels like it’s changing. They remind me of the things that will always stay the same and I’m so grateful to have them in my life. There are also parts of myself that I know will always stay the way they are. For example, I’ve always been bad at keeping my room clean, something I’ve just accepted as a part of my personality. I’ve also always been indecisive, never wanting to be the one who chooses where my family and I go to dinner. I’ve always loved animals, especially my two dogs, who I could not live without. I’ve always been an avid sleeper, sometimes sleeping in until one in the afternoon. Similarly, I also know that my faith in God will always be a part of who I am. Even when I haven’t always been faithful to him, he’s never once not been faithful to me, and I know I can always count on him to guide me through changes in my life. These traits of mine remind me that even though I will change into a different person in the future, certain things like who I am now will always be the same. As I’ve gone through change after change, the lesson I’ve learned and the lesson I want to share with you today is that when changes seem scary at first, it’s important to remind yourself that you’ve been through changes before and have come out the other side better for it. When you recognize you have things that are constant in your life that you can always go back to, those changes will start to feel normal. So even when I turn 18 next year or go to college in 10 months, I can feel strengthened by the pieces of my life that will always stay the same. I encourage everyone, but especially the seniors as we are about to endure a significant change after high school, to not forget about the parts of your life that will always stay the same, so that when changes approach you, you’re capable of handling them with optimism and excitement for what’s to come. Thank you!

Tasha Bundrick We’re Only Guaranteed the Present First, I want to say thank you to my parents. Mom, thank you so much for introducing me! That was such an amazingly sweet introduction, and I love you so much! I will always know that you’re in my corner and giving me the best advice you can offer! Dad, I hope you know that you’ve been one of the most influential people in my life. I know you’ll always be down for anything with me, whether it’s going to White Waters every summer or putting aside your busy work schedule to hang out with me. Shoutout to my Rat, Lola. Ansley and I have loved being your Cats. You’re such an amazingly sweet girl, and I’m so

excited to see where your life takes you. And finally, to the people in the first few rows, just know you’ve all been a fundamental part of me, and that you’ve all touched my life in a meaningful way. Time is relative. I’m sure some of you have heard this phrase before– but what does it truly mean? We all experience time—no doubt about that, but how we experience it is a different question. For example, time may seem to come to a standstill in the middle of a long lecture or while you’re in traffic, or it may speed up to an unimaginable degree when you’re enjoying yourself or having fun. And while the way we experience time varies amongst us humans, how do other creatures experience this precious resource? Have you ever seen a housefly in your home and wondered what they see? What they feel, how they live? After they’ve matured, their life spans are a mere 28 days long. 28. One month. On the contrary, ours range a whopping 30,000 days. Do these flies experience the day the same way we do? Sometimes passing and fleeting, other times slow and creeping? Or do they experience a day like we experience a month? Imagine: your entire life condensed into a measly 28 days. What would you do? What about tortoises? Some species have been recorded to live up to 250 years. How do they experience time? Are their days fleeting and meaningless, or do they see every day like I imagine a housefly would? However, compare the mere 250 years of the tortoise to the life of the Earth, having existed for a whopping 4.534 billion years. Compared to the universe, we are nothing more than a drop in the bucket, the blink of an eye. We exist in the span of nothing but the time we interpret in our minds. And sometime in the distant future, the sun will have run out of fuel, the earth will have become an icy husk, and our bones and remnants of our lives will be cast out into the universe, forever forgotten. But there’s the beauty in it: Our flesh and bones will become something else entirely. The basis for new life as a part of a star, a lonely meteorite in the vast, wide-open void of space. For dust you are and to dust you shall return. Time cannot be bartered or traded. It is the one thing humans have sought but never claimed in its entirety. From Ponce de Léon and his crusade for the Fountain of Youth, to Sir Galahad, and his search for the Holy Grail. And so, in these men’s fascinations with power and youth and immortality, they wasted their one and only life searching for something—something that could have been spent wiser than these ill-fated quests. Something they had right in front of them: time. Whether historical or fabled, the quest for eternal immortality and youth has been a human fixation for centuries. But it has never, and almost certainly will never, be found. Time is our most valuable resource, and it is not gifted equally. Some are born to die; others live a hundred years. Time is ruthless—never stopping for anyone or anything. So what do we do now, speaking in terms of our own perception of time? We categorize this phenomenon into phases: the past, present, and future. But has the past truly happened? Surely, you may say. Things have happened, and they affect the “now.” But how true is this really? The past can be misremembered, mistold, unreliable in its falsities. History is written by the victors, and if the past can be warped into narratives, then do we know the truth? Would we ever know if certain events were completely fabricated? No. It is completely unreliable. What about the future, you may ask? We plan and plot and, unlike most other species, we worry about it. We think about it meticulously—the things we will do, what we will experience and see and hear. But is it guaranteed? Absolutely guaranteed? While the average life expectancy is 82.2 years, you could be struck and killed by a car, contract an illness, or simply go to sleep and never wake up again. And all those things we’ve thought about, all those plans and ideas for our future, are useless, time we’ve spent on a false promise to ourselves. It is completely unreliable. If the past and future are unreliable, if time is never ending and unrelenting, if we are not and will never be immortal beings, then what can we do with the time we have? I don’t know. But what I can tell you is that we have an advantage, you and I. For all of the students in this auditorium, we all have one thing in common: our youth. Despite the possibilities of all of the tragedies I’ve just described, the chances are

that we will each live a while longer. We have the most valuable, most treasured and sought-after resource to date. We are able to do what we want with ourselves, believing that we are invincible to the world—that nothing can touch us. And while that may not be entirely true, it feels that way. After all, our time is relative. So how do we make the most of this seemingly abundant amount of time and youth? Do we spend each day like the housefly, truly soaking in any and every moment of the day, or like the tortoise, each day bleeding into the next? That’s up to you to decide. With the knowledge of our mortality, with knowing that we aren’t guaranteed anything, do you want to continue on with wishing away these moments? What are you thinking about now? Practice you have later today, what you’ll do when you get home, an embarrassing moment you had? And while I don’t fault you, I just hope that some of you will catch yourself when doing these things. It doesn’t have to be now, but every once in a while try to acknowledge—really acknowledge the “now”—the present. Notice every detail, every emotion, every passing moment you see. I know it’s easier said than done, but try. Try as hard as you can– catch yourself in your bouts of thought, when you tune out the exterior world in favor of your interior. Try to sit up, look around, and truly see, for you’re not guaranteed any moments besides this one. Thank you.

Madeline Butler Thank you Katiya for your introduction, and for sticking with me in the trenches since sixth grade. And happy Tuesday, I’m glad today was a good one. Thank you to the people in the first few rows, all of you are here for a reason and I appreciate you tremendously. Finally, shout out to my Rat, Cindy. Things can get a little stressful, so hang on to as many good moments as you can, and I promise it’s worth it. I don’t know what any of the people in this room think when they look at me. Most of you don’t know me, but there are still a thousand things I could imagine your thinking of me based on my appearance alone. For any person in the first few rows, it might be something completely different than the person sitting next to them. This is something that has always scared me. I can never tell what someone else is thinking, and knowing how little control I have over their perception of me is nerve-wracking. And it’s the tiniest things that can trigger this anxiety. What I have for lunch, the pitch of my voice, my posture. As an example, some people have been surprised to find out that I’m a middle child, or that I have siblings at all. As small of an impact this ultimately has on how people view me, knowing that I contradict the image that they have of me in their head has been enough that I used to avoid bringing it up at all. Even though it doesn’t make sense, any miniscule shift in how I’m perceived reminds me that the person I am isn’t always what people expect. It’s the expectations that really get to me. I don’t know what people want from me, so often I set the standard myself, and it’s always better to err on the side of caution. If there’s anything that people do know about me, it’s that I’m good at school. It’s the one thing that I’ve been consistently complimented on, and grades are a concrete measure of how well I’m doing, removing that sense of uncertainty. Being a student gives me a role to play; it tells me what I need to do and places me in an environment where many people struggle with the same workload and perfectionism that I do. In many ways, that’s a comfort. Being seen as intelligent is a positive thing, and if nothing else, it gets me people’s respect. The problem arises from the standards I set for myself in response to that. I’m taking four AP classes this year because I couldn’t stand the thought of letting up on my workload. As much as I’ve had to learn to give myself grace, anything below an A still feels as good as failing much of the time. Even when I fall behind in class, I prefer to try and catch up on my own than to ask for help. People

expect a good student, so I want to give them a fantastic one. What do I have to offer the people who expect me to do well if I can’t perform as a shining example? On some level, I’m always thinking about this. If I have a vague sense of what I’m supposed to do, I lean into it hard and cross my fingers that I can keep up. I think to myself that maybe if I do all this, then people will like me, or at least that they won’t think bad things about me. The best I can hope for sometimes is that people don’t think about me at all. I’m generally a very quiet person. I’m prone to sitting in the back corner of any given class and mostly talking during class discussions. This isn’t much of a problem most of the time, but unfortunately I’m abysmal at small talk. I can’t carry a conversation to save my life, and I honestly don’t know what people even want to talk about. I can admire someone for ages and never once think that I should talk to them. It’s not how my mind works. So, of course, when I do have a conversation with someone, I agonize over what I said for ages afterwards. My tendency to fumble social interactions has gotten me in trouble more than once, so I usually feel like I have to be on my guard. If I thought it was a positive interaction, I still worry about my tone of voice or my jokes or my body language, wondering if I did anything wrong. I can’t tell a lot of the time, but I do like to think it’s gotten better over the last few years. For the most part, people do generally leave me to my devices, and that’s how I’ve always preferred it. In August though, a pretty obvious conversation starter ended up making its way into my life in the form of my knee brace. For context, I have an osteochondral defect which caused chronic pain in my knee for the better part of the last couple years. I should have only been ecstatic when my knee brace was prescribed. But amidst the excitement and relief, there was also apprehension. I didn’t want people to see me differently, and I didn’t know how to navigate talking about something like that. It was kind of funny, though. I expected people to ask about it, but I didn’t know that the question nine times out of 10 would be “What did you do?” It felt weird that I didn’t have a story to tell, a specific period of recovery, a good explanation. I’m a pretty private person, and all the sudden attention and inquiries into something that felt personal were a bit awkward for me. But it also showed that people cared, despite what I felt were my biggest failings. These moments in the spotlight are always a little confusing for me. It’s weird to deal with an influx of social interactions, and as much as people are often encouraging when I achieve something, the feeling of eyes on me is still anxiety-inducing. So why have I taken a performing arts class as many times as possible over the course of my career at GPS? I sing almost every day. In the car, to myself, and, of course, in GPS Singers. One of the appeals of being in a choir is that I can engage with one of my passions in a space where my mistakes are covered up by collective success. I’m not confident singing in front of most people, but being in Singers puts me in an environment where I have to put myself out there. At the same time, if I do less than stellar, there are other people singing with me who can pick up my slack, or we all struggle together. And Singers is a place where I really can see my improvement. I took Singers freshman year, at a place where any little mistake would send me spiraling for the remainder of the hour. I would count every time I sang when I wasn’t supposed to, and I was sure everybody had noticed and thought less of me for it. I never sang very loud, and I never talked. After skipping it in sophomore year due to scheduling conflicts, I rejoined junior year with a new choir director, new set of singers, and new personal development. After an adjustment period, I found it to be a

community that was nothing but supportive. It was a break from academics, where my sense of humor fit in, and I could stop worrying about what I was doing wrong. My friends have also been vital as I’ve learned to be less stressed about appearances. They’ve not only accepted but embraced the less palatable parts of my personality, and I can trust them not to judge me when I mess up. I can talk about my passions with them and not worry that they’ll laugh at me, and I can count on their support whether or not I’m doing well in school. We all know that friendship is magic, of course, but seeing in real time how wrong I am about myself has stunned me over and over again. So what do you think when you look at me? Do you see a friend, a classmate, or just someone you pass in the halls? I’m sure a lot of you just see someone standing in the way of you going home, which I can’t really blame you for. I still worry over a thousand little things every day, and I probably will for a long time. But there are people who make me feel a little less judged, and a lot more loved. I’m still scared, but I’m a lot braver and more outspoken than I was a year ago. I can’t control how people see me, and maybe I’ll never know what they want me to be, but I don’t think I’m capable of being anything other than what I am anyway. I just need to meet myself where I’m at.

Abbey Conner Thank you, Jonas and Morgan, for your sweet introductions. Jonas, even though we argue, I’m so grateful I have you as my brother and a built-in best friend, and I don’t know what I’m going to do next year at college without you busting into my room every day. Morgan, I’m so lucky to have you in my life; you’re like the sister I never had and our countless memories I cherish always. Thank you to my mom and my grandparents for all you’ve done for me. I know I wouldn’t be standing up here on this stage today without you guys. Thank you to all my guests in the first few rows for taking time out of your day to hear me speak. I appreciate each and everyone of you for y’all’s impacts on my life. And lastly, shoutout to my Rat, Olivia. I know you’re going to do great things. Cherish your years here because it goes by so fast. Perception. A concept that a period of my life seemed to be consumed by, but it was not always this way. I started feeling the impact of others’ perceptions on my life in eighth grade. This is when how people perceived me became important to me. I had just started my third new middle school in three years, and it seemed like everyone around me was starting to be consumed with how they looked and how they should act and what would make them seem cool. I thought if I didn’t try and act the same way, then they would think I was not worth their attention; especially at this time I was terrified of the idea of being alone all because people could think I was weird for the way I dressed or my personality, which I was still trying to figure out. After eighth grade, the idea that everyone needed to think I was worth their time started to consume my thoughts and continued an endless cycle, especially throughout high school. Eighth grade was when I began working to make sure I was meeting all the standards imposed by others in order to fit in and be liked by everyone. This habit that I created in my mind of making sure that I was liked and fit in, I then brought with me to GPS my freshman year. When I first came to GPS, I joined the first friend group that I thought would take me and mindlessly did all the things they would do. I had no prior knowledge of how you should act at GPS, and so I thought I should just follow these girls because, to little freshman me, they seemed to have it all figured out. I believed I needed to act in this certain way in order to be perceived as the “perfect GPS girl” that had always been described to me. After my four years being at GPS, I feel as though I can confidently say that I have grown. During my time at GPS, I feel like I have learned how to be my own person. But this took a lot of trial and error

along the way. There was a time where I thought everyone at GPS was balancing their academics with a sport, and so I thought I needed to as well to feel a sense of belonging. I tried dance, track and even squash, to name a few. Now I’m going to explain to you why these sports didn’t necessarily work out for me. With dance it never felt like I could get the movement right, and it always felt a little awkward to me. I just could never make the movements flow like the others in my class could. Even though I loved choreographing the art and I loved watching it, it felt like I couldn’t execute it the way I wanted because I wasn’t the most graceful when it came down to it. With track I loved having a sport to take my mind off of things because there was always room for improvement with this sport, but unfortunately my body just could not handle sprinting and running every day, and this led to me ending up in a boot and crutches due to stress fractures not just one year but two years in a row. So if you’ve seen me hobbling around school, this is why. This is when I came to the conclusion that track was not for me along with the fact that the sport overall never made me feel at my best due to the overpowering feeling that I wasn’t good enough because I wasn’t the overall fastest on the team. The main contributor that made me realize track was not made for me though was when I tried triple jump for the first time my junior year, and for some reason my brain could not comprehend how you were supposed to triple jump, which was a problem because I was signed up to do it in a meet after only practicing it twice. I completely embarrassed myself and due to the fact they had no time for me, I did in fact have to go first, with no Idea in the world on what I was doing, which led to me completely falling on my knees before the sand, which, if you know this event, you know you are not supposed to do that. To make things even worse, it wasn’t at one of our smaller meets. No, it was in fact at the CCS invitational. All the impact from landing on my feet so harshly in the triple jump event led me to be in another boot, so that’s when I gave up my short-lived dream of being a track star. Trying all of these sports, though difficult at the time because they didn’t seem to be working out for me, thankfully showed me that I honestly love the simpler things in life that make me feel at peace, like the arts or just spending time with those I love, where I don’t need my athletic ability to define me as a person, which turned out to be one of my biggest fears and something that consumed my thoughts. While I’m grateful to have been given all the opportunities at GPS to try new things that I never would have dreamed of doing, there are still some things I never have tried at my time at GPS because I was so worried about being perceived as odd or out of place, and this is something I truly regret now that my time is almost up. All because my own thoughts of how others would think of me got in the way. Until my junior year, I would have rather died than get up in front of a room of people and express how I felt about something. The anxiety I would experience before addressing my thoughts to a room was crippling to me. This is because my own brain would tell me that what I was about to share with others was a burden to them and was a waste of their time. I thought what others were about to address to the class was probably way more intelligent and they likely didn’t have a care in the world about what I had to say anyway. This led me to spend my first two years at GPS completely silent in the back of every class, and it felt like no one knew anything about who I truly was or how I truly felt. However, something I’ve realized over the years though is that everyone is too obsessed with how their own lives are going, and that they probably aren’t worried at all about how you dress, your appearance, the things that you do, or the way that you talk. (Even if you have a little bit of a southern twang.) Our lives are all moving so quickly that those people whose opinions you care about so much are probably just worrying about what they’re going to do next and not worried about the little things that you obsess over. Like the presentations you have in an English or history class. I’ve learned to think about it this way

during these situations of anxiety during class to calm myself down and what I’ve learned to remind myself is that something so huge to you could just be something so minor to them, just a single blip in their life. Whatever you’re so worried about, no matter how bad you think you might potentially embarrass yourself (like I did in triple jump), I can promise you those people in that room probably won’t even remember it the next day, week or year. Through all these trials in high school, I’ve learned that nothing is more important than being myself and that it’s OK. That what makes me happy is reading, music, sewing, and the fun experiences I can have with others who make me feel at my best, instead of forcing myself to try and enjoy the things that don’t make me feel like my true self. High school has also taught me that you need to find the people in your life who truly value who you are and who make you feel like you are worth their time and especially make you feel like you are worth listening to. I’m happy to say those people in my life are my best friends that I’ve made along the way at GPS and especially my family. Most importantly you need to remind yourself that you are worth so much; even if you think others don’t think that, I can promise you that there is at least someone who cares about you but, at the end of the day, the only person who can determine your self worth is yourself and that all starts with loving yourself and everything that makes you, YOU, even the weird parts. Now in saying all of this I’m not saying I’ve fully figured out how to beat the evil thoughts in my mind of perception and anxiety because I still struggle with it every day, like I’m worried about how all of you are perceiving me right now as I’m giving this Talk, but don’t let those thoughts get in the way of doing what you truly love. And honestly, at the end of the day, you can’t fully control how others truly perceive you but you can control how you choose to see yourself. And in the words of the great Michael Jackson, “You got to get it right while you got the time cause when you close your heart, you close your mind.” Thank you!

Mabry Cook Unexpected. What is unexpected? Literally, the unexpected is the opposite of what is expected. But where do expectations come from? Are expectations all subjective? I’m betting that a lot of you were expecting me to start my talk with something like, “Thank you to my brother for introducing me, thank you to my parents and guests for being here, etc., etc.” But I didn’t. In not starting this way, I took an unexpected action in comparison to the thousands of GPS Chapel Talks that have started that way. I doubt that you all were disappointed in me for not starting this way, but part of you might’ve been thrown off because I didn’t. Why is that? For my entire life, I feel like I’ve done what’s expected of me. I went to GPS because my mother did and her mother did and her mother did. I took many of the hardest classes because I got good grades. I was kind because that’s what a girl is supposed to be like. None of these things are bad, and actually, they were all really good things. But at what point do expectations turn into pressures and pressures turn into requirements?

As young girls, we are often told that being nice is the most important thing. And obviously, kindness is really important. However, I see in myself, and others, kindness transforming into over-politeness and the inability to stand our ground. Once, someone asked me my top three good qualities about myself and although qualities came to mind, I was unable to say them in fear of seeming like I was bragging or not being kind. However, when I see boys brag about their accomplishments, they’re often viewed as confident, whereas we are afraid that we’ll be seen as rude. I am often unable to make small decisions, like restaurant choice or ideas of what to do, because I am so afraid that sharing my mind will make me seem too bossy or too rude. Whereas if a boy does this, he’s rightly seen as strong and empowered. I notice that my friends and peers frequently apologize, most of the time for things that they don’t need to apologize for. We make ourselves small as a result of our fear of being seen as bold and loud. Do you see these unfair expectations we fall into? When I was a kid, I remember a man coming up to my family at a restaurant and telling my parents they were going to have to “lock me up” when I was older to “protect me” from the boys that would try to corrupt me as a teenage girl. Now, there are many things wrong with this man’s judgment, but that’s for another talk for another day. However, I do think it highlights the outrageous expectations that we place upon girls today, expectations that our society doesn’t do enough to stop. Based on simply looking at me, as probably an eight-year-old, this man had an entire set of expectations for my future and how others would react to me. And I still remember, to this day, hearing what he said and just laughing, not really realizing how unfair it was for him to say it. Later, my dad, who is probably the biggest feminist I know, told me I didn’t need to listen to what this man had to say, and that my future is my own, expectations aside. Just because we’re girls doesn’t mean we have to listen to what other people say about our futures and what they think they should look like. GPS does an incredible job of allowing us to be ourselves, in unexpected and expected ways, and I really love GPS for that. I love the way that I dance with my friends on random Tuesdays in the Rotunda. I love the way that I have a Rat, Maddy, who I get to cheer on this year. I love the way that I was pushed to participate in things I never thought I would, like dance. I love our traditions and our pride. I love the friends and teachers I’ve met here. I love the education and opportunities GPS has given me. I love GPS a lot. So, when I call out things about GPS, it is only because I see GPS’s potential. It is only because I care so much about it in the first place. In our education system, I’ve felt an expectation to take AP classes and overload myself with work to prove and push myself. The origin of this is not GPS. But what role do each of us play in supporting this system? I’ve taken the ACT after my dog was put in the hospital, I’ve come into school for APUSH on Sundays, and I’ve spent lots of weekends doing eight hours of homework, feeling as though there was not another option. Of course, nobody at GPS required this, but we are part of an environment that makes you feel like you’re falling behind if you don’t perform this way. And you might say, “Mabry, you’ve done these things to yourself in taking AP classes and trying to be involved and being a perfectionist.” True, but I feel like I should be able to do these things and not be frequently overwhelmed. My vision for GPS is that it is a place where girls are entirely free from expectations and pressures, especially because we live in a world that puts enough pressure on teenage girls. I want to genuinely thank GPS for working in ways to reach this vision, but I also want to genuinely ask: Can we, as a community, do more? More to cultivate everything that’s so special about GPS in ways that spread beyond our walls? Every single teacher here has taught me something, lessons that I would be willing to work many more hours of homework for because of their value. My most beneficial learning experiences were outside, or were in group conversations, or when I felt truly invested and captivated by the content. They were not found in hours of homework or tests, and I honestly think they were hindered by this. All my favorite classes—biology, AP Lang, and Tucker River Fellows—have been my favorites because they defied

expectations in some way. However, my question is still relevant: Can we do more as a community so that we don’t always feel bound by pressures? When I look back on my time at GPS and my life so far, the memories that were most important to me were never what was expected. They came out of the friendships that I could’ve never planned for, or groups like Terpsichord, which loved me like no other. They came from my family, who supported me in it all. From my brother, who always gave me consistent friendship and a role model of what it looks like to be truly confident in who you are. Also, thanks for kindly introducing me today, even though I didn’t mention it at the beginning. To my mom and dad, thank you for letting me live as all versions of myself, the unexpected and expected alike. Mom, you are steadfast, and your selflessness is remarkable. You always show up for me, whether it’s just simply listening to me, cheering me on in Terpsichord, calming my worries, giving me advice, or being one of my best friends. You support and care for me in ways that nobody else does and also remind me what unconditional kindness and love look like. Dad, you understand me and know me better than anyone. You are kind and thoughtful, and I am so thankful for how you know how I’m feeling without me having to say a word. You show me what advocacy and care for others looks like, especially through how you advocate and care for me. Thank you and Mom for being the parents that you are. I love you both. As I’ve listened to around 500 Chapel Talks throughout my time at GPS, I’ve noticed that a lot of them end with a charge to the GPS girls to act. In keeping with my theme of the unexpected, I won’t be doing that today. To do so would be to place more expectations upon you, which you certainly already have enough of. Today, I am telling you to take off some of those expectations, or to be someone that doesn’t give into placing them upon others. Creating a society with less pressures is not on you because you don’t make the rules of what our society cares about, but you should also always feel empowered to be who you are in a society that is full of rules. I want us to find the strength to be ourselves instead of buying into what others want us to. Remember who you are, expectations aside. Thank you!

Kerrigan Coverly Thank you, Sloane and Gracyn, so much for my introduction. You never fail to make me laugh. Thank you to all of my guests for being here, and a special thank you to the Coverly clan, especially my parents. You guys have done so much for me and my siblings, and I am incredibly grateful for all the opportunities you’ve given me. I love you so much. Shoutout to my Rat, Gemma. You are so talented and amazing and I hope that you will treasure every moment here. I have always been fascinated with vampires. Not with the whole blood sucking thing and killing people because that’s gross, but with their immortality. From watching the Vampire Diaries to reading Dracula, it has always intrigued me to see how an immortal spends their time. Do they use their neverending lifespan to do good in the world, or bad? Do they lose faith in humanity, or fall in love with a human even though they will one day have to watch them grow old and die without them? There are countless works of literature and films centered around vampires, but my personal favorite is Twilight. For those of you not familiar with Twilight, it’s a love story between Bella, a teenage girl who moves to Michigan to live with her father, and Edward Cullen, a student at her high school who she soon discovers is a vampire. Now, whether you’re a lover or a hater of the Twilight movies, you have to admit they are rife with cringiness, but I think that that is what makes them even more entertaining. I know the movies are supposed to be a chronicle of this super angsty and dramatic love story, but I personally think these movies are the definition of comedy because with scenes such as the one where Edward says, “This is the skin of a killer,

Bella” while his entire body is sparkling like he just crawled out of a giant vat of glitter, it’s impossible not to laugh. In the first Twilight movie, Edward takes Bella to his house to meet his family, who are also vampires, and after a very awkward meeting with his parents, he takes her on a tour of his home. When they come to the door of his bedroom, Bella sees that there are countless books and music scattered all throughout his room. She walks around his room looking at his music collection which spans from classical artists of the 1800’s to more current artists of pop and rock. This progression through music genres and artists, and also the variety of the music devices, from CDs, to cassette tapes, to vinyls, all symbolically mark Edward’s progression through time. Each time I watch this scene, I feel jealous of all the decades of music Edward got to witness, but it also always makes me wonder how I would spend my time if I knew that I, too, had an eternity to live. Unlike the Cullens, I personally would not want to spend eternity in high school. But that begs the question, what would I do? I have thought about this question many times: What would I do if I could live forever? I can’t be the only one who’s pondered this, and even if you never have you probably are thinking about it now. If you knew you had forever, what would you do? Would you drop out of school or quit your job and travel the world? Become involved in an organization that you’re passionate about but never had time for? Or maybe set out on a journey to try every exotic food you can think of? Or would you never do anything because you would always tell yourself that you have eternity to get to it? For years now, I have had this constant feeling of running out of time. Maybe it’s due to anxiety, or my long standing habits of procrastination, but it feels like most days time is my enemy. I am always racing against the clock, especially senior year, trying to meet deadlines for applications, essays, homework assignments, and this Chapel Talk. I have had so many interests over the years that I haven’t pursued because I felt there wasn’t enough time for them in my already hectic life. I find myself always forced to choose: Have fun with friends or finish an essay due tomorrow? Join this club I find interesting or leave that help class time open to do homework? It feels like an impossible task, with the time I have, to be a good student, a good athlete, a good leader, a good classmate, a good friend, a good sister, and a good daughter. I’m sure many of you feel this way too, especially as students at GPS. In a life where it feels like we are jumping from one thing to the next with no time to rest, immortality can seem pretty enticing. Wouldn’t it be amazing to have forever to live your life, to finally have the time to do everything you’ve ever dreamed? There’d be time to learn to speak every language, master every trade, learn every instrument, travel to every country, etc. You start thinking of everything you could do, all you could accomplish. If only we had all the time in the world. If only I had more time I would volunteer more. Read my Bible more. Practice the guitar more. Spend time with my family more. If only I had more time. It’s easy to get lost in these if onlys. I can envision a whole new life in my head, one where I have all the time in the world, where I don’t have to choose between things because I have the time to do it all. I have found myself seeking solace in these if onlys when, meanwhile, in this life where we do have to choose, I have felt like the choices I was making were the wrong ones. Instead of making memories with friends and family, I have stayed at home and done homework. Instead of joining a club or activity I was interested in, I missed out so I could have more free time. I would have given anything to not have to choose anymore, to not have to regret. When creating my college resume, I would look at the list of my activities and accomplishments and all I could see was all that I didn’t do. I became so disappointed in myself, thinking if only. If only I had more time, if only I could go back and choose differently. But then, slowly I began to realize that there was no point to these if onlys, because that’s what they are: if onlys. Things that will never happen, no matter how much I wish for them to. I can’t go back in time and live my life differently, I can only choose how I live my life now. I don’t have forever and I will have to choose, but now I know that’s OK. We don’t have time to do everything, but even if we did, would we really? If we didn’t have a limited amount of time we wouldn’t have any urgency. We wouldn’t treasure

the ones we love knowing that one day they’ll be gone. Time is not a constriction, it’s a means of self-revelation. It reveals what holds the most value in your life because those things are what you have chosen to occupy the time you have. The finiteness of our time here on Earth is what makes it special. That’s why as seniors, each moment this year feels even more important to us as we realize just how little time left we have at this school. Even in these first few months, we have already felt a difference because of the sudden realization of how quickly it’s all going to end. Moments seem even more precious when we can count on one hand the number of times we will do something again before it is the last time. We’ve already had a lot of lasts—last opening day, last Cat-Rat parade, last rivalry week. Did you find yourself thinking back to these events in years past and wishing you would’ve appreciated them more? I know I did. We can’t change the past, we can’t go back and relive a moment or change a decision, but what we can do is move into the future with a new mindset, to always live like this, aware that the time we have now is all we’re gonna get, and instead of letting that scare us or make us sad, allowing that knowledge to help us choose to spend our time wisely, to not waste it, to spend it with the ones we love. We don’t need forever to make our lives meaningful, we just need now. Time is going to pass no matter how you spend it, and eventually that time will end, so live your life so that when it does end, you can know that you’ve spent it well. And now my time is out on this Chapel Talk, so thank you and Happy Halloween!

Ebba Cox Liam, thank you for introducing me and for being one of the people I look up to the most. We are very different people, but everytime I wonder if my future will turn out OK, I know that it will because you are my example of ambition and resilience. Beyonce, thank you for being the best Rat ever and the coolest person I know. I really hope you take in all of the moments at GPS and enjoy all of your classes. One thing I’ve learned from my classes at GPS is that humans don’t like ambiguity. If something doesn’t have a clear meaning, we give it one. Every novel we read in English class is full of metaphors and symbols that have meaning we have to interpret. We constantly ask questions that aren’t necessary. This is usually a good thing because it sparks intellectual conversations that go deeper than superficial day-to-day remarks: “What is the meaning of success?” “What is truth?” “What is justice?” “What is beauty?” There is no right or wrong answer to these questions and everyone interprets the answer differently. We often interpret meaning into things that weren’t created to mean anything. It’s just how our brains work. We want to know what something is and why something is. Especially when it comes to something different than what we’re used to. So what happens when we come across a person who is different? What happens when we meet a person who looks ambiguous? On the first day of freshman year, I got my first job working at Chick-fil-A. The people in the drive-thru line were usually friendly and enjoyed having conversations with me about school, what I wanted to be when I grew up, or how I enjoyed my job. These people were sometimes very nosy, but I didn’t mind because it was nice to create connections with new people. One day, I was running orders from the drive-thru window when I heard a woman yelling from her car “Excuse me! Ma’am excuse me!” I assumed she wasn’t talking to me because I wasn’t the one who handled her order. I had my back to her at the register, checking on someone else’s order, when my manager poked her head through the window and said, “Hey Ebba, I think that woman wants your attention…” I turned around to see this woman frantically waving her arms out of the window of her white sedan, trying to call me over. I went over to the window with my best customer service smile and said “Hi, what can I help you with?” She responded with “Your hair is so unique. What are you?” I wasn’t

caught off-guard by her question in general because I’m used to people asking, and I don’t mind talking about it, but the wording surprised me a little. This was the first time that a complete stranger had flagged me down to ask “What are you?” I responded: “Oh… I’m biracial” She nodded and just said “What?” I assumed she didn’t hear me so I repeated “I’m biracial.” She nodded again and said “I know that but what?” Then I realized she wanted the specific combination of races. I told her: “I’m half white and half black” “Ohhhh…” She nodded again as if suddenly everything made sense. She told me a story of her daughter who taught elementary school and had a student who had hair kind of like mine because she was half Caribbean. I smiled my customer service smile and looked for a way to politely end the conversation because we were holding up the car line. But once her story was over, she had more questions. And when the conversation finally ended, a part of me felt slightly unsettled. The people-pleasing side of me felt bad that I couldn’t provide her with an answer when she asked exactly which country my African descendents came from. I could see her building her perception of me in her mind and in a strange way it felt like I had a responsibility to give her the definitions she was looking for. I don’t have a name for this feeling, but I recognize it often when people ask me anything about my identity. It feels like I’m on a narrow line. On one side are a bunch of little boxes that I’m supposed to fit into when strangers perceive me. Each box has a label like “biracial” that describes who I am on the surface level. Technically these boxes hold definitions, but they don’t give any definitive value to my personality, my values, or how I see the world. My answers about my identity, and especially about my race, are consistent and often predictable but honestly they don’t mean anything to me. I’ve been asked a lot, what it’s like being biracial, and my real answer is “I don’t really know because I don’t really have anything to compare it to, and I don’t spend that much time thinking about it.” But saying I don’t know doesn’t feel good enough, so I pull from the labels and definitions to find a better answer even if it’s not how I really feel. The other side is much less organized because it has no definitions. This is the space where I’m just supposed to be myself. I’m not supposed to be predictable. Honestly, stepping into this side is terrifying because I rely so heavily on the boxes to provide answers that sometimes I’m not sure how to exist without them. I participate in lots of discussions about identity. I’ve been to conferences where we put giant post-it notes on the walls and write down identifiers like race, gender, sexuality, socio-economic status. The purpose of these discussions is to protect diversity, but they also protect the labels that we use to define people. We come to recognize everything by applying definitions. But definitions are rigid; there is no space to grow outside of them. It’s impossible to define a person in a way that actually captures who they are, so once you contain yourself within definitions, you either have to change parts of yourself to fit the label or you have to admit that you were wrong and change your perception. This goes beyond people. All of these open-ended questions we ask that have no clear-cut answers. All of these ambiguous meanings. We pick them apart until we can fit them into boxes with clear definitions. Especially in an environment as academically competitive as GPS, it feels like we have to have an answer for everything. It feels safer to commit to a definition even if it’s more inaccurate than to say “I don’t know.” If we can’t define success, can we be successful? If we can’t define beauty, can we be beautiful? The answer is yes, because these things exist as they are whether we have knowledge of them or not. But, not knowing feels like a form of failure. So instead we let the definitions control our perceptions. Nothing is ever going to change to fit our interpretation so if we apply definitions to everything, we end up having to change the way we see the world to fit instead. In the same way that labeling yourself traps you in boxes, labeling the world puts a box around your experience. It prevents you from enjoying the unpredictability of the people around you. I will never be able to define the appreciation and gratitude I feel for the people sitting in the first few rows of this theatre. It’s thanks to you that I don’t feel the need to stay on the side with the boxes. You all give me the

space to exist as a person and not a definition. If you’re ever struggling with finding where you belong or finding the people who hold space for you. Remember that life doesn’t come with a dictionary. You are going to feel things you don’t have the name for. You are going to meet people you don’t have the words to describe. There will be moments when you’re not going to have the words to express yourself. You’re not going to have the answer to every question. If you think about it, there are infinite things to be observed so no one expects you to understand everything. Even within a person there are countless layers and so much nuance that you will discover something new about yourself every single day for the rest of your life. So don’t be afraid when you don’t know something. There is no reason to come up with definitions that don’t fit. It’s OK to admit that you don’t have an answer. Maybe you’ll find one eventually, maybe you won’t. It doesn’t really matter because you’re not here to know everything. You have the freedom to be undefined. Thank you.

Ellie Crowe Thank you to my lovely sister for introducing me. I am so lucky to have you to look up to and down on. A special thanks to my parents for being the reason I’m here today! You guys are my biggest cheerleaders, and I’m grateful every day that I get to be your daughter. I can’t say I love you enough. Shout out to my Rat, Claire! You are the cutest and sweetest girl. I hope the coming years at GPS are some of your best, just like mine have been. Finally, thank you to the people in the first few rows who came to hear me speak today. You mean so much to me and I wouldn’t be who I am without each of you. For most of my life, I’ve heard the phrase, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” When I was in elementary school, this question never made me feel nervous or panicked. Instead, it made me excited because I wanted to be everything. I would always answer the question by drawing inspiration from the movies and TV shows that I loved to watch as a kid. When I think of my favorite movies as a child, Barbie movies immediately come to mind. I often watched these movies while on road trips with my family. I always sat behind the driver’s seat, my sister behind the passenger’s, and we would pass around black CD holders filled to the brim with DVDs, including but not limited to: Star Wars, Marvel Movies, The Hunger Games, The Bionic Woman, and most importantly, Barbie. I cannot count the number of times I watched the movie Barbie in a Mermaid Tale on my way to a family beach trip in my dad’s minivan. Although I never got tired of Barbie movies, my parents definitely did because all the DVDs mysteriously went missing one day. These movies and shows I grew up on allowed me to believe that I could be a mermaid, a pop star, a superhero, a Jedi, or even a bionic woman. However, as I grew older, I sadly realized that mermaids aren’t real, I do not have royal blood in my body, and I cannot run faster than a car. I started to have real, tangible aspirations, such as being a firefighter, a doctor, or the next Taylor Swift. As you can see, I love drawing inspiration from the media and the people around me. I am the younger sister and one of the two youngest grandchildren in my tight-knit family, so I have always had older people to look up to. When I was in middle school, my cousins and sister seemed so much cooler than me. I thought they were insanely smart, had a direct path, and conveniently made all the right decisions in their life to set them on a clear journey to success. I wanted to be just like them because I thought that older meant wiser and therefore better. I forced myself to grow up pretty fast to copy my sister or achieve what my cousins were achieving. However, I didn’t realize that my role models might have different aspirations and motivations than I did. I also didn’t recognize that they are human, too, and probably had no idea where they were headed or what they wanted to “be when they grow up.”

Looking up to people gradually turned into over-comparing myself and my life with others. I wasn’t confident in myself and my own decisions. I wanted to make the ’right’ choices because I was scared of missing out on opportunities or ending up unsatisfied with what I had accomplished; I was terrified of taking a wrong step on my path. This continued when I came to GPS in ninth grade. I had gone to the same school for 10 years and moved into GPS for high school. Most of the girls in my class had been here since sixth grade, and I felt as though I’d skipped a step. I had classes I had to make up and was scared of the workload because I knew GPS was a different style of learning than what I was used to. This made me feel uncomfortable, unprepared, and out of place. I worried I would struggle at GPS like many people had warned me I might. Luckily though, I had my family and friends from my old school to depend on, and I quickly made new friends who I cherish to this day. I took some classes that pushed me, but I realized that I could do more than I thought. This move was not sunshine and rainbows because nothing is perfect, but I was open to change and knew that pushing myself outside of my comfort zone would be a positive thing. I tried new activities, including art, rowing, tutoring, bowling, and the list goes on. Doing all of these things helped me to learn about myself and what I love to do. I learned to be unafraid of trying and failing because failure is better than doing nothing at all. Immersing myself in my new school broadened my perspective on everything because I got to be surrounded by people with new ideas and different interests. However, my comparison problem didn’t just go away by growing into my new environment. I still compared myself to girls in my classes who got better grades than me, who excelled in sports while I have the body coordination of a goldfish, and who had more aesthetic-looking Instagram feeds than I have. I became envious of people who seemed to have their whole lives figured out. Rather than being excited like I had as a kid, I found myself getting nervous every time someone asked me what I wanted to do in college or what I wanted to be when I grew up. I would respond with “I don’t know yet” and I felt like I immediately lost value because I wasn’t set on something specific like the people around me were. I was focusing on what I didn’t have figured out and was neglecting to acknowledge how far I’d already come. I have always found that I am happiest when I am not focusing on the future but, rather, appreciating the period I’m in now. I have also learned that getting inspiration or gaining a new perspective from someone else does not require you to compare yourself at all. Now, I am not saying that magically one day I woke up and I never struggled with comparison again. This is not realistic considering I’m a teenage girl. My solution was to find ways to channel my energy into thinking positively about myself instead of tearing myself down, like practicing gratitude and acknowledging my accomplishments. As humans, and especially as GPS girls, we don’t celebrate our successes enough. We are so focused on what mistakes we have made or will make in the future that we don’t appreciate how far we have come. I also realized that I don’t have the same story or future as anyone else, which means I probably shouldn’t be basing my value on someone else’s scale. Unrealistic standards of who we should be, what we should do, and what we should look like are constantly being fed to us through social media. With being fed the lives of others all the time, I struggle to know who I am. I struggle to know what I want to do or be when I grow up, but back when I watched those Barbie movies I wanted to be everything. If you don’t know, last summer the live-action Barbie movie starring Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling was released. This movie felt pretty relatable to me because I am, as most of you are in this audience, a woman. The movie covered topics of misogyny, the struggles of growing up as a woman, and poked fun at the Western world’s patriarchal roots. These are also things we could discuss at length, but that is a topic for a different talk. I am more focused on how the movie ends, which if you haven’t seen it by now, sorry for the spoilers. At the end of the movie, Barbie feels like she has lost her purpose. She feels simple and ordinary and doesn’t know what to do. Her maker, Ruth Handler, reminds her that she can be anything she wants to be.

This is something I wish my younger self could hear, so today I want to remind you that you can be whoever or whatever you want. If you don’t see a clear path today, that’s okay. If what you want to be changes tomorrow, that’s okay too. I still don’t know what exactly I want to be when I grow up, but as we move through life and learn about ourselves, we are allowed to make mistakes because that is what makes us grow into who we are supposed to be. To the class of 2025, these past three years with you have been some I will never forget, and I am so excited to bask in the glory of senior year with y’all. As we move into an era of finding what our future holds, I want you to remember not to put yourself into a box. I want you to recognize your accomplishments, like the fact that we are all here today, and I want you to remember that your future is yours only. So, change your major as many times as you want and try new and different professions as your heart desires. I want you to believe in your capabilities and your decisions because you have all the tools you need. And most importantly, be unafraid of failure, because failure will only allow you to grow. Thank you.

Emma Davenport Thank you so much, Quinn and Helen, for that amazing introduction, and thank you to all my guests in the first few rows for coming to hear me speak today. I love you all so much and appreciate your taking the time out of your day to come and hear me speak. A special thank you to my mom and dad for all the sacrifices you have made for me these past 18 years. I know I don’t say it nearly enough, but I love and appreciate everything y’all do for me so much more than you know. Finally, a special shout out to my Rat, Catherine. Hannah and I love you so much and cannot wait to see what is in store for you during these next seven years; it truly goes by so fast so don’t take any second of it for granted! One of the earliest lessons I remember my parents planting in my mind is the importance of honesty. Throughout my childhood, my parents continuously implanted the concept that if all else fails, being honest and kind will do wonders in your life. As a kid, I remember not thinking much of this idea and just going along with my day, but as I have gotten older the importance of these traits has become much more apparent. In the dictionary, the definition of honesty is: “a refusal to lie, steal, or deceive in any way.” To most people, this may seem like a pretty accurate definition of honesty, but to me, it’s much more complex than just this simple definition. To me, honesty goes much deeper than just correlating to a rejection of lying or cheating. It’s something that has an impact on entire communities and relationships. As most of y’all know, here at GPS, the Honor Code is something that is highly respected by the entire student body. In the Honor Code, the members of GPS agree to not lie, cheat, or steal but this pledge carries a much larger impact on the community than just in regards to school assignments. It allows us to have the ability to do things like leave our backpacks laid out around the school without the worry of someone looking through them. It gives our teachers the comfort of knowing that if they have to step out of the room during an assessment, we won’t begin to discuss the test. Beyond that, it creates a sense of comfort within the community of both students and teachers. After having the opportunity to attend a place like GPS for the past seven years, I have grown to not only respect but also appreciate the importance of honesty. During my time here, I have learned to embrace and respect the culture created by the Honor Code every day. But beyond the classroom, being honest with myself is something I have struggled with as I have grown up. To me, attending a preparatory school like GPS came with immense academic pressure that I allowed to take over my life for the past couple of years. Wanting to make the most of GPS, I put

immense pressure on myself. Going into high school, I told myself that in order to be seen as “enough” to my parents, friends, teachers, and beyond, I needed to involve myself in as much as possible. I signed up for numerous clubs, multiple sports, rigorous classes, and on top of that, forced myself to try to be busy outside of school constantly. I came to enjoy the things I was involved in over time but, looking back, I now realize that I was not honestly participating in them for the right reasons and they were ultimately draining me and taking me away from the people and things that I loved most. Along with wanting to be “enough” for those around me my other motivation was ultimately college. I believed that it didn’t truly matter if I was enjoying the activities and classes I was involved in as long as I was involved in as much as I possibly could be in order to impress colleges. These thoughts created an extremely toxic mindset for me, and I began to believe that being spread this thin was not enough, so my personality began to change. I began to hold off from expressing my opinions in fear that I would hurt someone’s feelings, I started to keep my feelings and emotions to myself with the thought that I would be a burden to others and seem weak if I shared how I was feeling, and I allowed myself to become closed off almost completely from those closest to me. Over time, this not only affected me and my confidence but also began to affect my relationships with my friends and family. I would sit in my room for hours pouring myself into my schoolwork until I knew it like the back of my hand, taking away time that could have been spent with my family. I wouldn’t let myself express my real feelings to anyone in fear that doing so would make me seem weak, making it nearly impossible for my friends to be there for me. These instances took away from quality time that I could’ve spent making memories with my friends and family and, looking back, I wish more than anything that I could get those days back. Not only was I dishonest with myself during this time, but I was also extremely unkind to myself. I constantly told myself that I wasn’t doing enough. Whether it be not doing enough academically, socially, or during my sports it was a constant thought in my head. This thought forced me to immerse and push myself academically and athletically to the point where my only focus was school. I stopped enjoying the activities that once made me happy and began to view them as obligations instead of things that brought me joy. This constant cycle of self-criticism and overcommitment led me to neglect my personal happiness and well-being. I became so focused on the unrealistic standards that I had set for myself that I lost sight of things that truly mattered. Being kind and honest with yourself is extremely important, but it also extends to our treatment of others. When we can embrace the fact that we aren’t perfect it gives us the chance to be more understanding and compassionate toward others. Being genuine with your actions makes relationships easier, strengthening a support system that values authenticity over perfection. As I reflect on this time, I realize that being honest with yourself is much easier said than done. It’s about taking the time to focus on the things and people who make you truly happy, rather than participating in things just for the way they could make you look on a transcript. Along with that, it means recognizing that the unrealistic standards you may have on yourself right now will do nothing but take you away from some of the most fun and memorable years of your life. Standing up here today, I have in no way perfected the ability to be kind and honest with myself. There are most definitely still times when I don’t perform my best during a lacrosse game or get the grade I wanted on a test and resort back to wondering why I’m not “good enough.” But as I’m going through this year, I’m realizing that in the end there’s so much more to life than constantly striving for perfection. When I look back on these years, I want to be able to remember the memories I made and the time I spent with the people I care about most rather than how many AP classes I took or how many goals I scored in a lacrosse game. To everyone, from the sixth-graders in the back of the auditorium to the Class of 2025, if you remember anything from this Talk, let it be this: Take the time to honestly reflect on the things and people that matter most to you. Take the classes and join the clubs that interest you rather than what you think will

look best on a transcript. Learn from the mistakes you make rather than spending your time beating yourself up over them. And most importantly, spend time with the people you care about most. Thank you!

Lillian Eaton Thank you Ella for that introduction. I’m so glad we grew close over the years, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you to my parents for providing me with so many opportunities and endless love, I’m forever grateful. I also want to thank all the people in the first few rows who have positively impacted my life. I love each and every one of you. Lastly, shoutout to my Rat, Charlotte. I hope you make the most of your seven years here, I know it’s cliche but they really do fly by. I’ve constantly lived my life in fear of the perceptions of others. From a very young age, I began to notice the things that set me apart from the other little girls. I always stood a little bit taller, a little bit wider than the others. I would notice in pictures the difference between my arms and stomach in comparison to theirs. I was in elementary school, well under 11 years old. I was also shy; I didn’t talk to many people outside my tiny circle in my already small grade consisting of around 19 boys and 11 girls. The girls in my group always caused so much drama, but I didn’t have the courage to get close to the others. I thought they wouldn’t want me there. My time at St. Nicholas was incredible, and I wouldn’t change it for the world, but socially it wasn’t ideal for a timid girl such as myself. When I graduated elementary school and it was time to transition to GPS, I cried nearly every night. I was leaving a space I was used to and found comfortable, experiencing my first big transition where I had to start completely from scratch. When I arrived at GPS I was afraid to talk to new people, but I was also terrified to be alone. I stuck with the people who first reached out to me and closed myself off to everyone else. I changed myself to fit into that group and let my judgment of people and things be influenced, but I still never felt like I belonged. I then thought that others outside my circle wouldn’t like me because of who I hung out with and who I was on the surface, or that they weren’t nice people and I wouldn’t want to be their friend. The same thing occurred when I used to play volleyball. I always felt inferior to the other girls, not only because of how they played, but also because of how they looked and who they were friends with. I felt like they would judge me because of my insecurities, and distanced myself from them because of that fear. I was even the same in the classroom, terrified by the thought of being publicly humiliated if I answered a question incorrectly, so I hardly ever spoke a word. I felt completely isolated in all of these areas, unable to be myself to find where I would be most happy. I blamed it all on other people when it was really me creating these scenarios in my own head. No one ever said anything to me to make me feel unwanted, but I couldn’t help but feel as though I was never good enough. In doing these things, I closed myself off from other people because I was scared of what they would think of me, and instead of giving them the possibility of not liking me or thinking poorly of me, I removed myself from the situation first. In the eighth grade, my so-called friend group began to fall apart. I was floating around searching for a new group to be a part of, but I was certain they were all set in stone, let alone accept someone like me. I thought no one could truly want to be friends with me, spiraling into reasons based on not only my personality and who I thought they thought I was, but also my appearance. What kind of logic is that? I lived my life through an uncertain, self-conscious outlook until a group of upperclassmen adopted me the following year. They didn’t know who I was in years prior, they were a fresh slate. I could reinvent myself. I was still hesitant to find true friends in my grade, but I had begun to find a group of girls I felt somewhat comfortable with. Luckily, Ella Brandon and I had become inseparable in Accelerated

Geometry and have had a math class together every year since then, and I knew her group of friends would always welcome me. I began to open up to people in high school but was still hesitant to reach out to others and deepen many of my friendships. Sophomore year was when I first started to step out of my shell when Chapman and Madison turned me “preppy” and junior year was when I started talking to more of my classmates and was no longer scared to participate in class, but the biggest shift happened last year. Towards the end of junior year, I grew really close to my friends in the grade above me. Thank you to Mr. Lyons’ physics class for reuniting me with Harper and Julia by spray painting our rocket named Tiny Diamond in my backyard and coating it in eight layers of glitter while watching Trolls 3, all in the dark. The two of them, along with Morgan, Alex, and Odessa, even kidnapped me during my two free periods to stay with them and take pictures on Senior Fun Day. We hung out all summer, and they made me feel wanted, like I was worthy of their time and attention. I began to meet and spend time around new and different people and didn’t feel a constant state of worry whenever I was around them. I began to grow more comfortable in my own skin. When school started back up, I no longer had my newfound friends with me all the time, as most of them were now in college and the only two left were at McCallie. Despite this, I carried my new mindset into senior year. I decided I was going to re-involve myself in GPS activities. It would be a way to get to know new people and show them the real me. With much encouragement from Kerrigan and Sloane, I decided to join the rowing team. It was a little nerve-wracking at first, joining the team as a senior with no prior rowing experience, but the boathouse quickly became one of the places I’m most comfortable. My confidence was low at the start and I felt like I was constantly doing something wrong, but I knew I would be supported when in the first few weeks I was walking past Charleigh, who I had only spoken to maybe once, and she said “You’re on the rowing team, right? You’re like, so baller.” I walked out of the stairwell laughing with a smile on my face. I had quite the experience as the only senior on the novice team, and it caused me to bond very closely with Copeland, a junior who also started rowing this past year and was in my Strength and Conditioning class. Because of this we did anything and everything rowing- and lifting-related together. She had a schedule change and ditched me though, so now she’s been replaced with Olivia. But being the oldest on the team while being one of the people with the least rowing experience has caused some interesting and unexpected outcomes. I ended up being the fastest on the novice team, having competitive varsity times. I also was one of the most controlled as far as speed, so I was put in stroke seat, which sets the pace for the entire boat. I also had Coach Swanson asking me if I’d ever consider rowing in college, which I never would’ve thought possible, and Coach Foster going out of her way to tell me “Good work today” after practice. I have never been part of such a supportive team environment, where the coaches truly root for me and the girls support and have fun with each other. I now have a giant group of freshmen I love so much, even though they’ve nagged me about my Chapel Talk from day one. I’ve also bonded with the girls on varsity, both inside my grade and out, and have made some friends at McCallie, too. I wouldn’t trade these experiences for the world, whether it be Amelia and Charleigh fighting over who got a hug from me, Eileen and me listening to Little Drummer Boy while erging and taking two hours to work out for 40 minutes, my chats with Copeland driving down to the boathouse, Irie and me talking about our childhood Dora haircuts, testing with Caroline, Taylor and me laughing hysterically trying to get the boat to slow down, or Gabriel frowning at me through the window from McCallie’s side during a traumatic workout. Also shoutout to Tessa; she’s a fallen soldier but I still love seeing her both in and out of school. All these people and more mean the world to me, and I’m so grateful to those who encouraged me to participate in rowing this past year.

I also decided to do Candlelight for the first time thanks to the very persistent Jack Rogers. I was extremely hesitant at first, but I will admit I’m glad I did it. The dinners between rowing practice and Candlelight and post-rehearsal chats were much-needed breaks from the school week. I’m proud to say we survived the performance nights, despite having to jump my car five times that Friday, first to get to school, then to go home (thank you to Mr. Arick for helping me and Tessa open the hood of my car), then to get to Candlelight, where Tessa and I were rear-ended and were running late so I had to park at the Chapel, then again to move my car from the Chapel to behind the learning center, then once more to get home. Needless to say, this year has been pretty busy and chaotic, and yet I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Sure, I still have my insecurities, but I’m on my way to finding my self-worth. If I could go back in time, I would put myself out there authentically earlier on, and not change myself for or hide from the people around me. I would allow myself to explore and find the things that truly bring me joy, and take advantage of those opportunities. So, take this as your sign to get involved. Surround yourself with the communities and people who will love and support you. Find the ones who like you for you from the start, and don’t change yourself into someone you’re not for anybody. Don’t hold yourself back from opportunities that could cause you endless joy and happiness. Love and put yourself first, you deserve it. Thank you!

Elsie Elliott Thank you, Atlee and Jack, for that introduction. Thank you to all the people in the first few rows. It means the world to me that you took the time out of your day to hear me speak. To my Rat, Elle, stay amazing and make the absolute best out of your years at GPS. Lastly, shout out to the tech crew for making every Chapel Talk possible. You guys will always be my heroes. Picture this, it’s 2012, and you are scrolling on Twitter. You expect to see an array of Gangnam-style videos, and Minecraft YouTube parodies, but trending at number one continuously is a simple hashtag, #yolo. Captioned along with videos of people jumping out of planes or traveling around the world, yolo became one of the most viewed hashtags on the internet. Now, for those of you who do not know what YOLO means, yolo is an acronym that stands for you only live once, made popular by the conspiracy theory that the human race would cease to exist due to a prediction from the Mayan calendar, and fueled by an array of pop music about the end of the world. Yolo became a staple in internet culture, and as of 2016, it was added into the Oxford dictionary, cementing its place in history. I learned about the term yolo at a very young age. Being a sticky iPad kid had some benefits, as it became a regular part of my vocabulary in late elementary school. I didn’t care about the context in which I said the word; it was more about how I was cool and hip because I was using slang words and proving that I was smart because I knew what an acronym was. I understood that yolo, had a different concept, with a bigger meaning, living your life to the fullest because, well, you only live once. It wasn’t until middle school and high school that I started using the word in my vocabulary and following through with the actions that I was associating the phrase with, some examples include: going on a road trip across the country with my sister and our friend while living in a car for two weeks, while we were all under the age of 19; joining the play puffs three days before it opened, despite only

being in musicals before then; riding over 10 different zip lines across a valley in Costa Rica, and ignoring my fear of heights. But, what ended up being scarier on that trip was spraining my ankle on a water slide leading to a quick trip to get steroid shots at a doctors office in another country, or committing to a four-year-long bit about knowing every single word to the song “Man or Muppet,” and attempting to transform it into my entire personality. Going into something with the mindset of Yolo meant exploring things out of my comfort zone, and approaching all opportunities as if I may never get the chance to do them again. I also pushed myself to be a part of almost every activity and club this school has to offer, including but not limited to acting, Outdoor Club, golf, JSA, swimming, lacrosse, Current Events, diving, dance, and choir. I wanted to find my niche and find the thing that I could excel at, however now when people ask what sport I play, I have to respond with “Oh, I’m on the bowling team, and I’m a theater kid” and, for the record, I wouldn’t have it any other way. However, in pushing myself to be a part of so much all at once, I was always scared I wasn’t doing enough. My siblings were successful in everything they attempted, and things seemed to come naturally to them. I continuously compared myself to my classmates who seemed to be doing so much more than I was, despite trying my hardest. I pushed myself to be the best but that wasn’t enough, I always had this lingering fear for my future ahead of me, I judged my life on a scale of big, what big things am I going to do to change the world, what big things am going to do to be remembered by. When I was younger I wanted to be the first combination of a woman doctor- astronaut- president and princess, not to bust my bubble, but as of currently, I am scared of blood, and my hands are not steady enough to be a doctor, my ears would be horrible in space, and I think my scoliosis sets me out of that running, there are no eligible prince bachelors my age, and though I do wish to go into politics when I’m older, I hope I am not the first female president. I became scared of knowing the phrase “you only live once” because there is so much I wanted to accomplish. And so much I still hope to do in the future. However, in living so much in the future and also trying to live life to the fullest in the present, I was doing a lot of living but not a lot of enjoying, I never took the time to stop and breathe, which made me remember the second message to #yolo—taking time to enjoy the little things I was so caught up in the outcomes and the results that I didn’t realize how much the simplest things brought me so much joy. Yolo was no longer about going on some elaborate trip or doing a crazy stunt to make the most out of one day. There are only 3,650 days in a decade, 365 days in a year, 104 days of summer vacation, and seven days in a week, and not every day is going to be a good one, but the things I stressed over at the moment, and were the most important things going on in my life, blur in comparison to a good hug from my family or friends. The time spent laughing for no good reason other than just to laugh, and the quiet moments like doing my homework with my dog, Willow, sleeping next to me are some I cherish so deeply. The smallest things helped me define my personality and who I wanted to be and helped remind me that everything is going to happen as it should. Life moves so fast that it is easy to feel like you’re missing out, but it’s your life and it is so important to be able to take control of it. Now I know yolo is more than a phrase on the internet. It’s about never giving up an opportunity, facing your fears, and living life to the fullest, with no regrets, but also appreciating every moment and the people around you. And if “you only live once,” make sure your life is worth a thousand. Thank you.

Sloane Evans Thank you so much to Ella for that sweet introduction. I am so grateful God has put you in my life. You daily show me what it looks like to live and love abundantly. Thank you to my parents for all you have done for me. To my mom, I have never met anyone as servant-hearted and humble as you are. I hope to be half as amazing as you are when I grow up. To my dad, thank you for always encouraging me to do what is right, I will always love your constant support. And thank you to Blake for making me laugh. Shout out to Blaize, also known as little bubby, for being the best little brother anyone can ask for. Please drive me around when you get your license! Thank you to everyone who came to hear me speak, each one of you has shaped me into who I am today. Shout out to my Rat, Lilli. I have loved being your Cat. Always be your amazing self, and take every opportunity you can here because your time really does fly by. I have always been fascinated by miracles. While they can be big and extraordinary—like healings or moments of survival against all odds—I believe miracles can come in both big and small ways. Biblically, a miracle is any event that reveals God’s power and strength. Sometimes, it’s a dramatic display of his greatness, and other times, it’s found in the quiet, everyday moments of life that leave me in awe of who he is. This summer, as I was studying for the ACT, I came across a question that introduced me to a fascinating concept: bioluminescence. Bioluminescence refers to an adaptation found in some organisms, allowing them to create a chemical reaction that generates and emits light. Think of fireflies, jellyfish, or even some deep-sea creatures that glow in the dark. What struck me was the phrase “living light”—it’s not light from an outside source but something created and emitted from within. These organisms use their light to illuminate their surroundings or communicate with others. As I reflected on bioluminescence, it struck me as a metaphor for the kind of miracles I’m talking about today. Just like the bioluminescent creatures that carry light within them, I believe God has placed a living light in each of us. In John 6, Jesus is surrounded by a crowd of over 5,000 people who have come to hear him teach. They’ve followed him to a remote area, and as the day goes on, it becomes clear that they have no food. The disciples are worried, trying to figure out how they could possibly feed everyone. Then a young boy steps forward with five loaves of bread and two fish—barely enough for one person, let alone thousands. But Jesus doesn’t turn away the boy’s humble offering. He blesses it, breaks it, and miraculously multiplies it to feed every person there, with 12 baskets of leftovers remaining. This story amazes me because it’s not really about the bread or the fish. It’s about how God takes something small—something ordinary—and turns it into something extraordinary. It’s about how the boy trusted Jesus with what little he had, and Jesus turned it into a miracle. Last year on my school trip to Costa Rica, on our last evening, we were sitting at a restaurant by the beach. The sun was setting, everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves, and I noticed an older man sitting at a nearby table. Something about him reminded me of my grandfather, and I felt this strange nudge to go talk to him. At first, I ignored it. He didn’t actually look like my grandfather, and I was comfortable where I was—hanging out with my friends. I started overthinking it: What would I even say? Would he think I

was weird? Would my friends think I was weird? But that feeling—that little nudge—didn’t go away. Finally, I decided to step out in faith. When I walked over and started talking to him, I was nervous and awkward at first. But the man responded with so much kindness. We ended up having a meaningful conversation and, by the time I walked back to my table, I felt this deep peace—a kind of joy that only comes from stepping into the unknown and trusting that God will meet me there. I didn’t know why I felt called to talk to him, I wasn’t the most confident or outgoing, but I do know that God was at work in that moment. Like the boy with the loaves and fish, what I had to offer wasn’t much—just a conversation and a little courage. But God used it to create a connection that was bigger than me. It is not about having everything figured out, it is about living boldly and trusting that we can give what we have and God will do the rest. One of my favorite Bible stories is also another miracle in Matthew 14 where Jesus walks on the water during a storm. He calls Peter to come walk with him and commands him not to be afraid. Peter steps out on the water and walks toward Jesus, and then sees the wind and storm around him and begins to sink. Just like the storm in the story, distractions will come in all of our lives, but we must choose to not let them distract us from our purpose. Immediately, Jesus reaches out his hand to Peter and catches him. Just like Jesus reaching out to Peter, we are not created to live alone. Part of living boldly, I have come to realize, is living well with others. We were created for connection and community. I’ve seen this in my own life, especially in the little moments with my friends that bring so much joy. Whether it’s dancing with my team before practice, or going to Chick-fil-A on a Saturday and laughing until my stomach hurts, or choking until other customers offer to give me the heimlich, those moments remind me that God’s love often shows up through the people around us. I think that’s why the idea of bioluminescence resonates so deeply with me. Like those organisms that create light from within, I believe God has placed a kind of “living light” inside everyone. In times when I have trusted him and stepped out in faith, that light shines into the world, illuminating the lives of others and creating moments of connection, encouragement, and hope. In a song by Josiah Queen called “Fishes and Loaves,” there’s a line that says, “I know you’re uneasy, but I’m in control.” Life is full of uncertainty. We all will face obstacles that challenge us and make us feel unsure. But we do not have to have all the answers, we just have to have the faith that it will all work out for good. So, as I close, I want to encourage you: Whatever you’re facing, remember that you don’t have to be perfect or fearless. You don’t have to have it all figured out. And you are not alone. Just give what you have. Like the boy with the loaves and fish, or those bioluminescent creatures that create light from within, you have something valuable to offer. When you choose to trust the gift inside each of you, your “fishes and loaves” can be turned into something beautiful. Thank you.

Cat Feeney Thank you so much to Eileen for introducing me! You mean so much more to me than you even know and I am so grateful for you. Shoutout to my Rat, Marly Grace. Make the most of every single minute here! Things. My whole life I have loved things. When I say my whole life, I really mean it. There’s a picture of me at two years old, organizing lines of granola bars and toys. In my room, there is a bookshelf so covered in papers and gifts that the books behind them cannot be seen anymore. I have stacks and stacks of cards and small notes that I have received throughout my life. I have 18,000 pictures on my camera roll. While some people may have a memory box or a shelf of special items, I have created a memory room. I have spent years and years crafting this collection of memories so that I had a timeline of my life that I could just look at. I just love to keep things. I keep these small items because looking at them can bring me back to any moment in time. Just a glance at my bookshelf might look like a mess of old paper, but to me, seeing the two-year-old coloring sheet can transport me right back to cabin 10 at Camp Seafarer during my counselor-in-training year. I remember my campers, my friends, our water ballet dance to the theme song of H20. Seeing the framed picture of Grace, Isabel, Eileen, and me on the podium at Nationals in 2023 brings me right back to that season. I remember hours spent in boats and cars. I remember laughing so hard that my stomach hurt in Philadelphia, early mornings in Oak Ridge, and so so many trips to Starbucks and Panera. I keep even the smallest, most unimportant item if it reminds me of a good day. I have gelato cone wrappers from my sophomore year trip to Italy, notes from every Model UN conference I have attended, bracelets on my wrists from friends and years of camp, countless plane tickets, medals tracing all the way back to my Irish Dance days, and receipts that I can’t even read anymore. You may wonder, why does an old piece of paper that you can’t even read anymore mean anything to you? These little things mean so much to me because they are tangible pieces and items that I can look at to remind me of a good day or a fun memory with my friends. This trend of keeping everything is a part of who I am. This need to keep everything makes me find it very hard to let items go, I always have. I could never throw away a pair of shoes easily and still to this day shed a tear when I watch them go into the trash can. My parents had to have my childhood car sold and taken away while I was at school because I was so attached to it. I’ve had the same backpack since sixth grade. It is so hard to part with these things for me because I have so many memories with them, I cannot bear to see them go away. I hate throwing away a pair of shoes or deleting a picture off my camera roll because it makes me think that I will not only lose that tangible piece of a memory, but I will also lose the memory itself forever. I keep myself surrounded by memories, whether it’s in the form of dozens of T-shirts from so so so many events or my notebooks from classes tracking back to fifth grade, so that I am always able to go back to a time. I have kept playlists for every month since sophomore year, filling them with songs from tiny memories like just a drive down to the boathouse or a song I saw live in concert that month.

It’s not just things for me though, it’s people as well. Everyone I know has memories surrounding them, like an aura that is specifically made just for me. When names are said or I see them in the hallway, it takes me to a list of memories in my mind ranging from sixth grade Latin class to eating at a certain restaurant. Seeing these things and people who I have worked so hard to surround myself with, I can see the impact that they have had on my life. Without memories, I would not be the person I am today. The people and things I have bring me so much more than just my past, but they can show my glimpses into my future. The people I have met have shaped me into the person I am today, and having these memories helps me look back and see how I have grown. The experiences I have had in my life have crafted each and every part of my unique personality. My classes have taught me new things and created interests that I will follow into college and my career. My teams have taught me drive, commitment, and friendship. My clubs have helped me learn how to connect more with people I might not know otherwise. My friends have taught me kindness, joy, and how to live each day to the fullest. These people and experiences are not only a part of my memory, but a part of my future as I will carry the lessons and joy that they have brought me forever. As I look off this stage into the people sitting in front of me, I am flooded with memories. I remember being on this stage for Got Talent or for Upper School Dance Ensemble. I remember myself sitting in all of the upper school sections of the auditorium, watching everything from hundreds of other girls in white dresses giving their Chapel Talks, to Terspicord performances, to May Day elections. I also see the people in front of me. Every person sitting in this auditorium today is etched into my memory. To the girls in the very back of the sixth-grade section, to the people in the front row, each and every one of you have made an incredible impact on my life even if you don’t know it and I am forever grateful for it. You have shaped every day of my four years here at GPS, shaped how I wrote this Chapel Talk, shaped the activities I have done and the classes I have taken, shaped the joy I feel every day when I walk into the gates of GPS, and will continue to shape me through college and even further. While it sounds like a lot, I encourage you to find the people and the things that bring back your favorite memories—the ones that made you who you are and will continue to shape you into the person you will become. Thank you!

Anna Flint Thank you, Jack, for that lovely introduction! You are my biggest role model, in some cases at least, and I wouldn’t have asked to grow up with anyone else. You are the best big brother a girl could ever ask for. To those who took time out of their busy days to be here, your presence means more than words can say. To my Rat, Sylvie, you are the coolest, and Layan and I are so grateful to have met you. Lastly, to my amazing parents, thank you for always being my biggest cheerleaders; you guys are why I am up on this stage today, and I will forever be grateful for that. August 18, 2021. Now, to some, you may not remember this day, or to others, it was just the beginning of another school year; but to me, it was THE day. It was my first day at GPS. That morning, I decided to wake up earlier than usual to shower and still make it to school right before 8:30, making sure I looked like it wasn’t my first day, and overall I just wanted to fit in. I had already memorized my schedule on MyGPS, wanting to be as prepared as possible. So overcome with nerves, I decided to call my best friend Ellie, who was also starting GPS at the same time, to ensure that I would be at school at the correct time.

To my surprise, however, when I called her at 8 a.m., she was already at school, in her *light green* uniform, waiting for the assembly to start at 8:15. I don’t remember much after that phone call, but I somehow made it out of the house in a haze, with a *mud* green dress on, making me stick out like a sore thumb, with soaking wet hair, and day-old braces. On my way to school, my dad reassured me that everything would be okay. This would be a great new start for me, and he knew I would thrive in this new environment. Unfortunately, while he was giving me this heartfelt father-daughter pep talk, everything went in one ear and out the other. All I could think about was, “How could I mess this up so badly?” With my heart in my throat, we pulled in front of the Frierson Lobby, and with one last squeeze of the hand from my dad, I got out of the car. My goal for the day was to blend in and make myself the least noticeable person, and without being there for even five minutes, I had miserably failed that simple goal. I headed straight for one of the entrances to the Athletic Commons and was met with a locked door. I peek inside and, to my luck, see the entire senior class just staring at me, looking at a very disheveled and practically hysterical girl. “That’s okay.” These girls knew my brother and therefore knew me, and some were family friends, surely one would help me. But no! They just stood there. Already dying of embarrassment, I look to see that my dad is still there sitting in his car. I look over, hoping to get a reassuring nod or smile, literally any sort of fatherly comfort from him. Instead, I am met with him dying laughing, phone in hand, filming me continuing to dig my own grave. Giving him a polite gesture, I make my way to the next door. I go to the front entrance and am not only met with another locked door but also the entire faculty and staff. While I don’t remember which teacher ushered me to the side entrance and finally let me in, I would like to publicly say thank you for stopping me from sobbing in front of the entire senior class and faculty. Thinking the worst is over, I walk into the gym realizing that everyone is already sitting down, and am once again met with all eyes on me. At this point, I already have one foot out the door, hoping my dad is still outside, concluding that high school just isn’t for me, and I’ll never show my face again at GPS. This moment has become an “Anna Moment,” a term coined by my brother when I would do or say something truly embarrassing or awkward, and it became so recurring that he decided there should be a name for it. When these Anna Moments would happen, I would often laugh them off, making it seem like they didn’t affect me much, but at night, these memories tended to consume my every thought. I could not understand why these events had to happen to me. I became obsessed with them, constantly thinking about those past instances, and contemplating what I could have done or said differently to avoid them. I was always looking down, counting my footsteps and the ones before them, but never looking up to see what was lying ahead of me. I eventually became stuck; stuck regarding school, my relationships, and personal growth. I put everything on pause, focusing on what happened rather than what could be. My first day of school at GPS haunted me for the first few months. I truly thought that the dark-colored uniform or my soaking wet hair made people automatically not like me, or see me differently. But, to my disbelief, when I sheepishly told this story to my friends last year, no one remembered. Though that conversation seemed trivial to others, it had become a pivotal moment for me. I finally came to terms with the fact that I had allowed my own mind to create others’ opinions of myself, to simply make something out of nothing, and overall waste too much of my own time fixated on something I, unfortunately, had zero control over. But in the end, no one remembered, and no one cared enough to do so. Because I promise you, every person has had their own version of an Anna Moment; they just process them in different ways. While embarrassing and awkward moments are inevitable, it’s how we react to them that will shape us. The only control you have in the situation is your reaction, so react in the way that will be the best for you overall, no matter how hard it may seem to avoid self-doubt and contemplation in that moment. While I wish it didn’t take me this long to come to this understanding, I am grateful to finally be out of that

headspace, feeling like I can finally catch my breath, and accept the Anna Moment rather than to shy away from and be embarrassed by it. But most importantly, I am finally able to focus on the things that matter to me the most: my friends and family. The shadow of my past should not dictate my future, and neither should yours. So, to the Class of 2025, on August 18th, some of us will be days away from this new chapter in our lives, and others will have already begun it. When we finally go our separate ways, make sure not to hide from these foreign moments due to our past. Turn the embarrassing stories into learning curves and grow; don’t latch onto them and let that fear interfere with your future. Thank you!

Helayna Flint-Rivera Thank you, Aiyanna and Antigony, for your sweet introductions. I love you both. Thank you to my parents, and the many sacrifices you have made for me. I love and appreciate you very much. Thank you to all of my grandparents for your constant support in my life. Also, thank you to my guests in the first few rows. You all mean a lot to me. Lastly, shout out to my Rat, Legacy. You are the sweetest, I hope you take your time throughout your years here it goes by faster than you think. My grandpa always had something to teach me—how to drive, how to get along with my parents, and even why I had to share my cookies with my sister, which I still never learned to do. Trust me, even to this day, I still hear about it. However, the one thing my grandpa pushed me to learn the most is the importance of honesty. Some of his favorite pieces of advice include “Just be honest,” “Lying is more punishable than just telling the truth,” and “Talk to them because it will only hurt your relationship more if you don’t.” I’ve always valued my conversations with him but sometimes felt insecure when I realized this lesson is more difficult to learn than the rest, especially when it comes to being honest with myself. I’ve struggled with this growing trait of authenticity my whole life. When you are honest with someone, it is like a feeling of nakedness in your words, completely exposed, with no understanding of what the other person will do with the information you have shared, similar to how I feel speaking to you right now. This feeling of vulnerability that comes with being authentic is why it is easy for us to limit being open about who we are. This, in turn, affects our ability to form healthy, honest, emotional connections with others. How can we expect others to understand and accept us for who we are if we do not know and accept ourselves? In elementary school, I never felt displaced by who I was because winning freeze tag at recess was my most weighing social issue at the time. It is easy to recognize that a more carefree charge in life occurred when we were younger. However, as we mature into middle school, everything we know about ourselves begins to shift. We begin to notice the differences between ourselves and others, that they are more than just our outward appearance. I realized that there were social and even financial differences between myself and others that became detrimental to me at the time and I began to see myself changing and becoming someone I did not recognize just to fit in. And thus began my journey of not knowing who I was as a person. For example, my grandma would buy me clothes and I’d ask her to return them so I could buy the Simply Southern shirts and Nike shorts combo with a pair of black and white Nike tennis shoes that all of my friends at the time were wearing. I honestly never liked this outfit, so I am sorry, Grandma, for the many clothes I asked you to buy. This outfit though became my camouflage to blend in with my friends to make myself feel like I fit in. I carried this characteristic even at home through my relationship with my sister. If you told me she would become my best friend, I would’ve laughed in your face and told you that my

sister didn’t like me. I would always try to prove my worth to her. For instance, I wanted to prove to her and her friend that she had over when she babysat me that I was cool enough to hang out with and I decided the way to do it was to eat as many mozzarella sticks as I could as fast as I could. I believe that it was at the third mozzarella stick that I began to start choking. My sister and her friend were laughing at first, thinking I was joking until I was slamming my hands on her bed in an attempt to signal I was not kidding. My sister freaked out and immediately stuck her hand in my mouth to pull the mozzarella stick out. I just recently started eating mozzarella sticks again and every time I get reminded of this. You would think this would become a trauma bond that would cause a positive turning point in our relationship, but it did not. My sister, being a teenager, sometimes spent time with me and other times was wrapped up in her own life. As a young girl whose idea of sisterhood came from the Disney channel, there was a constant thought in my head that there was something wrong with me that I needed to fix. Deciding there was an issue with who I was, I tried to find and imitate qualities that I felt could one day impress my sister. Thoughts and doubts like the ones I shared can lead many to put on a balancing act of different character traits and personalities as a way to be accepted by others. This act we perform, however, builds protective walls rather than authentic relationships because we are being untrue about who we are as a way to seek the acceptance we desire from others. Having different personalities when interacting with different groups of people is like a chameleon changing its colors in different environments. Chameleons use this adaptation as a source of protection to ensure their survival. This way of blending into our surroundings to protect ourselves may be beneficial in the wild but not for our personal lives. Constantly camouflaging ourselves in social situations there is no transparency of who we are, instead, we become opaque versions of the people we surround ourselves with. Entering GPS, we are greeted by promises and promotions of sisterhood among its students. Sisters have an emotional vulnerability with one another, an intimate connection that only grows between them. During my three years at GPS, I have lost sight of these traits involved within “sisterhood.” Instead, I have picked up traits from those I surround myself with as a way to connect with my peers. Yet, this tactic pushes me further into feelings of inadequacy when I exhibit personalities that have never been my own, and when I face the mirror, I see someone I no longer recognize. I see a girl who is seen and known as many things but is not a part of her authentic self. This is a girl who is dishonest with herself and by extension also to the peers she tries to connect with. We as individuals are not genetically predisposed to be similar. Keeping this in mind when we keep up lives that are not our own, we can create a sense of anxiety because we are losing who we are. I learned this lesson the hard way when in my sophomore year in Spanish class I experienced my first panic attack. I did not know what I was experiencing at the time and truly believed I was dying, so I ended up giving both Mrs. Nati and Coach Blackwell a scare that day. Thank you again for reassuring me that I was not having a heart attack at the ripe age of 15. I explained to my sister what had happened and how confused I was and she then explained to me that what I had experienced was a panic attack. I took it as karma for all my years of telling her and my mom, who both experienced anxiety throughout my childhood, that it would never happen to me. With this recent experience of anxiety looming before me, I nervously went on my sophomore Winterim trip to San Francisco where my friendship with Antigony began. I remember experiencing a lot of symptoms of severe anxiety on this trip, and I asked Antigony if she could hold my hand and she took it with no hesitation. She came during the lowest point of my life, met me where I was, and walked with me through my anxiety. I can’t ever convey how grateful I am to her for that. During our friendship, she has taught me that I don’t have to change who I am to achieve acceptance from others. Meeting someone who positively impacted me and my ability to view myself in a more positive light was a blessing, however, I felt I couldn’t do it on my own and my mom took me to counseling. Counseling began to help but negative self talk continued to overcome me and my anxiety became more serious. I was told that if I didn’t put in the effort to fight the mental battle in my head, hospitalization for my anxiety would become my reality. Seeing my situation at hand I saw two choices: completely give up or try.

Since I am standing in front of you today, I think you can guess what I chose. Battling anxiety put me in a position where I had to face my authentic self and ever since, I have started to embrace it. Discovering who you are and being honest with yourself isn’t an easy process. For me, it is an ongoing one but I continue to try. To become who you authentically are is not something to be afraid of, it is something you should embrace. I encourage you to explore who you are, try new things, journal, do what makes you happy. In doing so remember to be intentional of the choices you make and remain authentic to who you are. Thank you!

Caroline Grant Thank you, Khadeeja and Cole, for that amazing introduction. Khadeeja, thank you for being my very best friend for the past nine years. I love you so much, and I don’t know what I’ll do without you or our Milk and Honey debriefs next year. Cole, although I may not say it enough, I love you so much and I genuinely could not ask for a better big brother. Thank you to all my guests for being here, it truly means the world to me. Mom and Dad, I can’t thank you enough for all of the love and support you have given me the past 17 years, and I am eternally grateful for the opportunities you have blessed me with. You are the best parents and friends I could ever ask for and my love for you is beyond words. Finally, shoutout to the Lyons Den, and shoutout to my Rat Michele, Khadeeja and I are so honored to be your cats, and I know you are bound to do amazing things in your time here at GPS. There are very few things in my life that absolutely no one knows about me, and don’t worry, I’m not about to share some crazy secret in front of a room full of people. What I’m referring to are the secrets hidden under the neatly folded piles of pajamas in the top left drawer of my white Pottery Barn dresser: my diary. Now I know hearing an (almost) adult use the word “diary” might be a little off-putting to some; trust me this isn’t easy to admit, however, inside this small book lies some of the greatest memories from nearly a decade of my childhood. For a little bit of reference to exactly how young I was when starting this diary, the book itself has a green and blue ombre cover, scattered with sparkly, multicolored flowers across its front and back, and, of course, bright pink pages inside; most of which torn out and loosely held together by each cover, a visual representation of its years of use. It was truly a little girl’s dream notebook. If you peel back the sparkly cover and flip to the first page you’ll find the all-too-familiar first line, “Dear Diary” and the date “August 26, 2015.” My very first diary entry. The entry itself consists of a single run-on sentence recounting the boring day at school that preceded it. This entry is by no means extravagant, interesting, or frankly, even legible as my sloppy handwriting and third-grade-level spelling outshine the actual message itself. Although, I can’t help but laugh a little knowing that a boring day at school was the most noteworthy of my problems at the time. If you flip through the next five years of entries, you’ll find pages full of forgotten memories. September 24, 2015, a list of sleepover plans including ’build a fort,’ ’sing on microphone,’ and ’eat pancakes.’ September 28, an entry consisting of one of the countless “songs” I wrote as a child. This one is labeled “families” and is almost an immediate rip-off of the very popular song “Ho Hey” by The Lumineers. I even remember telling people that The Lumineers actually stole my song straight out of the pink pages of my sparkly diary, because that makes a reasonable amount of sense to a third grader. There are drawings of my cat Leon, taped in photos of my friends and family, Christmas wish lists from almost every year, and even a horrifying fifth grade crush list hidden at the very back of the book. Yet amongst all of these silly and lighthearted memories are the ones I read over the least. The ones of sadness, of anger, grief, loss, and emotional turmoil. The vulnerable ones.

I’ve never been good with vulnerability. As a child I was often told by teachers that I was shy, that maybe I could raise my hand a little more in class. But even something as simple as raising my hand gave me a sense of unease because—how humiliating would it be if I were to get an answer wrong in front of all my peers? That was a source of vulnerability and I wanted to avoid it. I thought that vulnerability meant weakness, that it should be hidden away to only ever exist within the pages of my diary where no one else could see them. I thought that revealing these personal moments would result in their being weaponized by those around me, and I was terrified of being hurt by some of the moments and feelings that already hurt the most. I didn’t want to be looked at differently or patronized by loved ones because I couldn’t handle it on my own. So I opened my sparkly blue and green diary and wrote, just to shove those feelings back into my top left dresser drawer time and time again. But I was wrong, and for once I’m not afraid of the vulnerability that comes with admitting that. Vulnerability was never my problem, my fear of it was. The moment I began to take the risks that I was so afraid of was the moment I began to reap the benefits that came with them. Whether that be something as simple as raising my hand in class, venting to a friend, or opening up when I’m really struggling, these small vulnerable moments have allowed me to explore the most authentic version of myself, and I’m a better friend, daughter, student, and person because of it. If you flip forward through the final pages of my diary, you’ll notice that the length between the entries becomes greater and greater, and if you flip far enough you’ll find an entry with the same familiar “Dear Diary” tagline, and the date, “October 7, 2023” My final diary entry. Almost exactly one year ago. When I look at the blank pages following this final entry now, I don’t feel the need to fill them. The infrequency of these last entries isn’t because I lost my love for writing them, it’s because I don’t need them as an escape from vulnerability anymore. While part of me misses the connection to my childhood that writing in my diary always gave me, the other part of me is filled with pride in the personal growth that’s evolved throughout every entry. You’ve all probably heard the quote “your fear of looking stupid is holding you back,” and for me, it really was. I’ve lived a majority of my life scared of embarrassment and failure, never realizing that those are the parts of yourself that allow you to form true connections with others. We are our truest selves when we’re at our most vulnerable, and the right people will encourage you to embrace these parts of yourself just as much as they do. I’ve found that my new “diary” lies within the people and connections that I surround myself with, the people who have seen me at my truest self and have loved me all the more for it, and although it might not be as sparkly as the last, I think I like this one a whole lot better. Thank You!

Bella Hammond Thank you, Weston, for that sweet introduction. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for everything you have done for me. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. Also thank you to everyone in the front few rows who have taken the time out of their day to hear me speak. Shoutout to my Rat, Olivia. I hope you find the little moments in everything you do and enjoy the next seven years here at GPS. As far back as I can remember, I have always been asked to define myself in a word or a sentence. This has come through icebreakers on the first day, college applications, job applications, and even meeting people for the first time. Most recently, someone asked me “What are the five things that make you the person you are?” I always struggle to find the right words or the best attributes that show what kind of person I am. How can I describe everything you need to know about me in a single word? How can I pick the best thing I have done in my life? How can I, in a seven-minute speech, show you who I am? Over the

years, I have realized that it matters less what you say as long as you stay true to yourself and never hide or be ashamed of who you are. So today I want to share with you the five things that make me who I am. The first thing that defines me as a person is the one thing that has guided my life and dictated who I am: God. He has shown me how to worship in the life that was given to me, to embrace and learn what the world throws my way. That no matter what I may experience or face, he will always lend a guiding hand and be the ground that holds me up. The world is open to every experience I want to take from him, to live the beauty of the world he has made. He has helped me through the ups and downs that I have experienced so far, and I know he will always be there. He has shown me how to treat those around me and what I should expect from others. He has brought me the peace that I have needed in loud moments, because of my faith and his word, I can be the best version of myself. The second thing that defines me is my family. They have influenced everything that flows into my life, from my music taste and humor to my future goals. My parents have taught me the values of life and how to live, what kind of person I should be, and how I can impact the world around me. My mother has taught me compassion and to have a heart big enough to love others. To always have a helping hand ready for anyone who may need it. My father has taught me the joy of laughter, something that can bring light into any moment of darkness. My brother has taught me dedication, to work towards what brings me passion, and that with enough hard work and practice anything is possible. My grandparents have taught me family values and traditions that make our family what it is. My cousins have influenced parts of my personality such as my work ethic and my humor, since I have looked up to them since I was young, gaining their phrases or actions (which I still use every day). I am who I am in life and treat the people around me as I do because my family has taught me to embrace life through their ways. The next thing that makes me who I am are the friends I have made throughout various stages of my life. They were able to show me how to embrace myself and not settle for anyone who wasn’t accepting of me. They showed me that who I truly am is the best version of myself and that nothing can dim its light. They have brought out new versions and fun sides of life into my world. They are the people I can always count on to lend a helping hand or just be there for me. I can always count on them to be down for whatever adventure the world throws at us, especially when it comes to trying out the new Crumbl flavors of the week. Because of them, I know that I will always be accepted and have a place to grow as a person. They have cheered me on during my wins and helped me up during my losses. They have allowed me to change into the girl I am today and have supported me in every decision I have made and continue to make. My curiosity for learning is the fourth thing that defines my interests, guides my view on life, and is the reason I follow my passions. The thought of figuring out the unknown, learning all that I can about any topic drives my life in a way that leads to the decisions I make throughout it. The joy of finding the right answer or having something fully click in my brain scratches an itch I didn’t know I had. From learning a random fact such as that your brain is constantly eating itself as new cells develop, to finding the perfect ingredient that makes the dish that I have been making finally taste right, to figuring out the final trick to making my newest hobby fun, my curiosity allows me to challenge myself in new ways and also know when I have reached my limit. It’s allowed me to find new passions that would have never crossed my path unless I decided to branch out of my comfort zone. Now you may be wondering what is the final thing that makes Bella Hammond Bella Hammond, well jokes on you: I don’t even know. That’s the thing, you are forever changing and forever learning new things about you that you don’t even know about yet. If you were to ask little me what my favorite color was or if I love my brother (which I do now), the answer would be different from what I give you today. We never truly know where we will end up in life, but we do know what we have done and how we have changed. This unknown will continue to challenge you as a person as you make decisions. Such as what dress to wear to the next dance, what sport should you try out this year, and even where to go to college?

Now as scary as this unknown seems, take it as a new adventure, a way to find your true self and find the life you deserve, with the people who are right for you. There are things that you can never control or change but as long as you grow with them and embrace how they change you and your life, I think we all will be all right. Take each day as a mountain to conquer and when you reach the summit, the view is pretty amazing, so don’t forget to take a second to enjoy it. Thank you.

Sylia Hicks Thank you, Ma and Riah, for that sweet and honest introduction. Ma, you have been my anchor. You always say I was your light at the end of the tunnel, well you are mine. I’ve gotten all my good from you, and I’m so thankful for the sacrifices you’ve made for me and Riah. I owe the world to you. To Riah, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect sister than you. You listen when I feel the world is against me, and believe or not I look up to your confidence and your eagerness to prove me wrong. Another thank you to my guests and the people in the first few rows for being here today. It truly means a lot. To my Rat, Kenize. I hope you enjoy and cherish every good memory at GPS. Now, I’m going to tell you a story about a girl. A girl who was different. She looked normal, and she always tried to be kind to people. However, she still had a weird obsession with rocks and was sometimes irritable. She went to doctor’s appointments just to be told her quickness to anger is part of being different. Her inability to communicate emotions, hold eye contact at certain times, and her intolerance to certain sounds or noises were all just things that made her different. Her differences never made her talk funny, except when she stuttered, but even then she seemed to appear normal. Her differences were internal. She was an athlete. She did everything under the sun from dance and gymnastics to soccer and cheer until she was seven. Through all of that, she could still carry a tune quite well and had a beaming interest in music. Even when she was on the field or the court she was singing or humming, but then when she was acting, she was thinking about memorizing the new play she had run in practice the other day. Her teammates never quite understood her musical obsession when she talked about the layers of drum patterns or her picking out a certain guitar melody from a song in the ’90s. Just the same way as her castmates or peers in her choir class never understood a 1-3-1 or the term “roll-it-up-middles.” This was one of the same reasons why she struggled to know who to invite to her birthday parties or sleepovers. What if her teammates didn’t like her theater friends or even her childhood friends? She went quite a while just lingering around people who would have conversations with her or at least thought she was funny. So not only was she different, she felt alone. When she was younger there was a difference the doctors couldn’t ignore. In kindergarten, she tested into the gifted program, and she was told she was so smart that she was going to have to start taking different classes than all of her peers. As she approached second grade, the material got more challenging for her, and it was because she was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. This took her mom for a bit of a spin, especially now because she needed medication to keep it at bay. She was no longer considered gifted, so she now took the same classes as her other peers. In no way did this make her normal, though, because what other seven-year-old was taking medicine that sometimes made her fall asleep in class, make her bounce off the walls, or make her face look like she didn’t care about the world? Yeah, none that she knew, either. It would take a while for her to find what worked for her and what didn’t. She also found out what it meant to wish her story ended sooner than what it was supposed to. She would think, “It’s almost impossible for anyone to believe or even understand me. Am I selfish to be thinking this way?”

Thoughts like these would grow. The girl started to think about two things at once, then three, then five, then 14. Next thing you know she’s thinking about everything, everywhere, all at once. One day when she was in sixth grade and lost track of her thoughts, she started to feel kind of funny. It started to get a little hard for her to breathe, her hands started sweating, the walls were getting closer and closer together, it got warmer and warmer, her clothes started to feel too tight and the texture of them made her itch even though it hadn’t before. If anything had ever been different in her life, she knew it was this feeling. Something trapped her voice inside, keeping her from asking for help. So she just sat there. In active contrast from all of her peers, once again, with tears flowing down her face. There were meds for this too, ones that she tried but which made her lose the concept of time, the one thing she never thought she had enough of. Not enough time to spend with her friends or tend to her family. Not enough time to practice. What about her homework, when was she going to have time to journal or focus on herself? “Is it selfish that I just want the world to stop for just a minute, so I can have that one minute to just be?” She often found herself saying that a lot. Every time she would say that, she would giggle, but her friends would frown. If nothing else tells you that you’re different, that definitely does. The girl eventually handled her mind enough to get to high school where different was either accepted or your biggest flaw. There were parts of high school that made it seem like her differences were her superpowers. Her teachers loved that she thought outside of the box, it always brought for a good discussion question in class. Her coaches appreciated how dedicated she was to working hard and always wanting to be better. Her choir teacher loved her vocal range. But her kryptonite was making friends; everyone had friend groups and she never liked those. She always had one or two people from each friend group who she liked to talk to because they made her laugh and didn’t highlight her differences. They were kind to her and invited her to their parties and sleepovers. She had grown to be alone with her thoughts, though. A part of her didn’t want friends. A part of her, found herself wanting a hug from her mom. She wanted to go a morning without her and her sister getting into an argument. What she wanted was a way to deal with emotions, but that’s not necessarily offered as an elective. The girl started to feel a whole new set of emotions she never felt before; grief. The girl had lost her grandmother her freshman year, and her baby cousin her sophomore year. Both were during softball season. Her favorite season. One of the only times in the school year when she wasn’t worried about having friends or what others thought of her. Now all she could think about was how she felt she wasn’t crying enough when she was holding her mother after coming back from the hospital without her grandmother. How did someone she not only knew but loved for 16 years no longer be here? She thought it was strong of her to attend school that same day, but it wasn’t later that she realized her strengths revealed her weaknesses. When she heard the news of her cousin moments before her next softball game, she dropped to her knees and instead of tears she got angry. Why was she like this? Well, if anyone had known what loss felt like, and the fire it lights within you, it was her, an athlete. But those losses don’t prepare you for the losses that can’t be corrected with extra practice. This loss … made her lose herself. Her mental health was clogged with an unlimited number of memories, emotions, and other people’s emotions. She felt selfish. She couldn’t stop finding things to do. Her busyness and preoccupation kept her from being present. She wanted to take away her mother’s and her sister’s pain. She wanted to remove their tears and return to them peace and love. However, she was lost herself. When the cameras were off and the curtains closed, she felt she herself wasn’t even the person on the stage. Who even is she? Will she ever be found? Maybe she will, eventfully. I haven’t quite figured out that part of the story, my story. Almost a year ago, as a junior in high school, I was diagnosed with High Functioning Aspergers Autism, a neurological developmental disorder. I learned from that one psychiatrist that this would explain my weird obsession with rocks, my obsessive anxiety, quickness to anger, my struggle to grasp certain social cues or standard emotions. I also developed neurological tics (physical twitches or outbursts). This would explain why I was and always felt different. I struggle with these differences more than I lead others to believe, in fear

that it will make me appear weak, lazy, or misunderstood. But I also realized this could also be my superpower. I learned I have the ability to view and make the most of the cards that I was dealt. My flaws and differences only had to be a piece of my large, unfinished puzzle, not the final product. So if it’s one lesson you could learn from this story, that has taken me 17 years to learn, it is that it is okay to be different. That although my differences and yours alike might not always be visible, that it doesn’t invalidate them. This is my story, and these differences make me who I am and that truly is such a special thing. Because, at the end of the day, I am different and I can hide it. I’m OK with that, because “being normal” sounds boring anyway. Thank you.

Haley Hixson Thank you, Kerrigan, so much for that kind and thoughtful introduction, I am so excited to spend the next four years with you at UTK and I cannot wait to see all that you accomplish, and to my Rat, Leila, you are the absolute sweetest, kindest person, I hope you never change who you are, and I will not be surprised when you win Dancing with the Stars one day. I hope your years at GPS are memorable and fun. To my parents, thank y’all so much for giving me so many opportunities, thank you for all that you have sacrificed. You are the best travel buddies, and I love you so much. We only have one life. We never know what the next day will bring, and we never know if we’ll even make it to the next day. Many live their lives as if they have all the time in the world, when in fact, we don’t. In today’s age, everyone seems to frequently tell themselves “I can just do it later,” but what if there is no later? These exact words can cause so much pressure down the line, because if you put things off they will just start to pile up, and you will put yourself into an unhealthy habit of not living in the moment. Living in the moment has its rewards, in fact, if you start living in the moment you will have more to look forward to in the future. Throughout my years of high school, I found myself constantly worrying about what my future held for me. In ninth and tenth grade, all that I felt was important were social events. I had a fear of missing out on things and I was concerned that it would impact who I was for the rest of high school. I was so worried about what my future would look like that it started consuming my mind and I started losing focus in my academic life. My grades were slowly slipping and I also began isolating myself from my family due to an obsession over my phone and computer. As these habits bled into my junior year, I started realizing that I was not living in the moment as much as I would have liked. I was upset about missing out on opportunities, but I also knew that there was nothing I could do to change the past. Rather, I knew that if I started immersing myself in my life more, I could focus better and I could create stronger connections to the people closest to me. Soon I turned myself around and made a huge improvement on my grades, I also noticed myself becoming a better friend for others and overall a happier person in general. This is a great example of why living in the moment is the best thing we can do for ourselves. Of course, living in the moment can be easier said than done. Even when we were kids, we always looked up to adults and wished we were in their shoes. We wished we could be older and have the responsibilities adults had, but little did we know we were wishing our time away. Now as we get older, we wish we could go back to being a kid again, the freedom it offered, and the joy and innocence we felt around us. As someone who is about to turn 18 and become an adult, I often wish I was a kid again because being a kid seemed so much simpler. I felt more in the moment and I appreciated things more. As we grow up we seem to lose the trait of gratitude and presence when we are worrying about our future and past too much. This is why we need to keep these traits as best as we can.

Throughout my senior year, I have thought about the future more than ever, and the more I think and worry about it, the scarier it gets. I have been constantly worried about which college I will end up in and how much it will affect me if I don’t get in or don’t go. I have caught myself often feeling lost and disappointed knowing that in just a few months, I will be off to college, leaving behind my friends and family, but I have to remember that this is in my future, I am still in the present and my friends and family are right in front of me. I want to look back in five months and remember all of the memories I created and all of the fun moments I had with friends and family while living in the moment. I always have to remember that God has a plan for me, he has a future planned for me, and no matter what happens, change is good and it is all for a purpose. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Although my senior year has been full of thoughts and worries of the future, I have felt more immersed in the moment more than ever before. During the first days of my senior year, I got to meet my Rat, Leila. The tradition of Cat-Rat has been one of my favorite GPS traditions. I have loved getting to know such an interesting, fun, hilarious, kind person, and she always makes my day better when she greets me in the halls. Another one of my favorite memories is just hanging out with my friends. I will always love hanging around Sloane. She offers true strength and courage to try something new, and God shines through her everyday. Kerrigan will always have my back no matter the predicament we may find ourselves in, and she lights up a room with her kindness. Emily will always keep me on my toes; she always encourages me to try my best and be the best version of myself. Lillian will always be there so I can have someone to talk to, and I will always be amazed with your creativity. Ella will always keep me smiling with her out-of-pocket comments, and I will miss talking about jelly cats with you. To my parents who have both done so much for me, I want to thank you for offering me so many fun and fulfilling memories. I would not be who I am today without you and you will always make me happy no matter the instance. I hope you will come to visit me in college many times, and I am excited for game days with you. To my family, you will always make me feel supported and loved, your guidance has shaped who I am today and I am so thankful for the love you have given me, you are God’s greatest gift to me. Last but certainly not least, to my friends on the first few rows, I will miss every single one of you so much next year and I hope you know you have made an impact on my life. One day as I look back at how I lived my life, I don’t want to be disappointed that I missed opportunities; instead I want to look back and see many memories and opportunities being fulfilled. To the class of 2025, we only have eight days left together and to those of you who may struggle with finding yourself daydreaming or worrying about your future, you also need to remember that you should have gratitude and presence, and what you need is most likely right in front of you, in the present. As Ferris Bueller says,“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Thank you.

Madelyn Houghton Thank you Tess and Evie, for your sweet introductions. I will miss you both so much next year. Thank you to my parents for all of the sacrifices you have made for me. I could never express how grateful I am, and I love you so much. Thank you to all of my guests for taking time out of your day to hear me speak. And lastly, shoutout to Sevi, the best Rat ever. I have loved getting to know you this year, and I hope you enjoy your time at GPS as much as I have!

The anticipation grows as the timer goes off. I open the oven and take out the strangest looking baked good one has ever seen. Feeling defeated, I grab the spatula to chisel the very stuck “macarons” off the pan. My first time attempting to create what is considered to be one of the most advanced desserts was quite a failure. My second, third, and fourth times were not exactly victories either. With missteps ranging from the wrong type of pan to not whipping the egg whites enough, I went into this risky endeavor having done absolutely zero research. But, I had an extreme amount of stubbornness and a newfound level of boredom. Making macarons is known to be so difficult because even the tiniest mistake can completely ruin the whole batch. I have been baking for years, so by the time of these slightly unfortunate events, I felt as though I was experienced enough to take a shot at it. During this initial trial of baking macarons, it had been raining, so the air was very humid, and the batter didn’t fully set and dry on the pan before I put them in the oven. When they should have risen into a perfect dome, they instead melted and completely stuck to the pan, leading to a very fun and time-consuming clean up. In my second attempt, I made sure the humidity was low, but I used the wrong type of pan, and the heat caused the macarons to bake too quickly. The next few tries all had their own unique set of errors, but instead of quitting at what seemed to be an impossible feat, I kept trying. Finally, after culminating all of the knowledge I gained from my failed attempts, I somewhat successfully made macarons. As I took the pan out of the oven, I looked down to see that my hard work had finally paid off. They had formed the correct shape, had the highly coveted “feet” on the bottom, and most importantly, they actually tasted like macarons. Trust me, this batch was anything but perfect. I’m sure I didn’t sift the almond flour thoroughly, or fold the egg whites in for long enough. Even though it still had its own fair share of errors, I remember being so incredibly proud of myself. Similarly to just about every other teenage girl, I constantly struggle with comparing myself to others. Whether it be my appearance, my grades, my personality. I know that I, along with everyone else, will never be perfect, but it is so difficult to accept what makes us imperfect and view it in a positive light. On social media we see pictures of what we think we should look like, how we should act, the clothes we should buy; it’s easy to quickly criticize yourself for not fitting the idea of perfection that we see on our screens. I am not saying that my experience with trial and error in baking has healed me from this, or made me completely move away from a perfectionist mindset. Rather, I have understood that it is okay to be imperfect. Embracing a mentality of acceptance relieves you from a never-ending cycle of stress and constant pressure to do more. Even after my multiple horrendous batches of macarons, I kept trying. Instead of letting my ever-growing list of failures get to me, I looked at it as a learning experience. It would have been significantly easier for me to quit after my first try, but instead, I gave myself grace and decided to try again. Baking can be such an exact science. A recipe can easily go wrong with peculiar mistakes not unlike the nuanced challenges we face every day. I find that it can be easy to forget that failure will inevitably happen, no matter how hard I work. When I was making the macarons, I knew that they were not going to be perfect. By letting go of the impossible standards that I could’ve set for myself, I had the capability to perform to the best of my ability without unnecessary stress that would otherwise prohibit me from doing so. Constant comparison will never make you happy, as we will never be perfect. Expecting perfection from yourself will create a continuous struggle of never being enough. No matter what you do, there will always be an insatiable need for more. Being in such an academically intense environment can often push the narrative that there is always more improvement to be done. Personally, I feel like I could always study more, get higher grades, and do more extracurriculars. I know that the stress of feeling like you are never doing enough is a common feeling here. It is so important to be able to recognize our accomplishments. There will always be someone out

there that will have better grades or have more time to spend on extracurriculars. Cutting yourself down takes away any feeling of pride in yourself and all of the amazing things that you have achieved, even if it doesn’t fit your idea of perfection. So, once again, the anticipation grows as the timer goes off. I open the oven to take out what feels like my millionth attempt at macarons. I have learned just about all of the tricks to get the best macarons possible. Still, they are quite far from perfect, technically, but they are starting to look more like macarons, and my willingness to fail and try again is what matters so much more to me than how the macarons look. I hope my story has resonated with some of you or at least helped you know that you’re not alone in these feelings of perfectionism. I urge you to remember that while it can feel impossible, continue giving yourself grace and continue learning from your mistakes because nobody is perfect, after all. Thank you!

Mariah Ivery Thank you to Ariana, Mary, and Haylee for those sweet introductions, and I want to thank the people in the first few rows for coming to hear me speak. Also, I want to thank my parents for everything you’ve done for me over the years. I love and appreciate you more than you know, and I will forever be grateful for everything you’ve sacrificed for me. Last but not least, I want to give a shoutout to my Rat, Jordyn—treasure your years at GPS. They’ll fly by faster than you know it. And to Mrs. Swanson, thank you for believing in me so much. Because of you, my journey at GPS has been so much smoother. Spikes? Check. Bib? Check. Uniform? Check. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. I approach the starting line, get in my blocks. My heart skips a beat when I hear the word "set." The gun goes off. The race begins. The only thing I’m thinking about is: If this track thing doesn’t work out, then what’s next? Some of you may not have known that I run track, but I suspect most of you did, considering it has been such a big part of my life. You may even have suspected that my Chapel Talk would be about track. Well, you’re right. Track has been a part of my life for so long. I would say I think about track 60 percent of my day on a daily basis. Not because it’s some sort of weird addiction, if that’s what you’re thinking. But it gets to a point where I’m always thinking, “Am I training enough?” “Should I eat this?” “Should I eat that?” “Am I really good enough?” “Is this going to work out in the end?” As a track athlete, this isn’t the best mindset to have, but it’s how I’ve always been. My coach, Coach D, always tells me that track is 90 percent mental and 10 percent physical. I’ll admit that when it comes to track, my mental is very bad. It gets to the point where I’m nervous four to five days before meets. I’ve always noticed this has been a pattern since I was little. I just never worried about it, because I’m not the type of person to ask a lot of questions. I usually like to figure things out on my own, and I’m not a big fan of talking about my mental state to anyone. I just make sure I’m ready for race day. I have to have a good mindset before I run, or I perform horribly. As an athlete, I’m the type of person who gets easily upset with myself. I care too much about what people who aren’t important think of my performance. I will tend to cry before a race if I’m too nervous. If you’ve ever run with me, you probably never knew that. It’s because I tend to hide it. I compare myself a lot to others in my heat, even if I’m the fastest there. I rock side to side to calm my nerves when they call my heat, and I tend to shake before every race. I need to see or speak to my coach and parents before I run, or I just don’t feel right. It tends to annoy me when people try to talk to me before a race, so I often

make sure I distance myself. This isn’t to be rude, but just to help me maintain my nerves. I make sure I talk to myself when I’m about to step on the track. As a big Christian, I like to pray before every race because I believe all things are possible through Christ who strengthens me. And the funny thing is, I do all of this just to run less than a minute each time I race. For something so short, I put so much time and energy into this sport. I don’t want you to think from this talk that track and field is nothing but boring, stressful, and full of anxiety. This sport has also brought many great opportunities into my life. Whether it’s waking up at five a.m. just to get ready for an out-of-town meet, or having practice with friends and falling out from workouts but knowing it’s okay because, in the end, it will all work out. Or running as fast as you can and staring at the clock as you cross the line, waiting to see if you’ve PR’d or not, while official times flash on the board. I congratulate everyone else in my heat, win or lose, because win, lose, or draw, you’re not racing against people; you’re racing against the clock. Many people don’t even understand that concept. I can’t count how many times I’ve been dissatisfied with my performance in a race, and someone says something like, “Why are you so upset? You won!” or “You looked so fast.” It’s not just about how you look or what place you got. Track is a sport where numbers matter more than anything. I tend to get easily frustrated with myself when I don’t perform well. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I get emotional, and it sometimes destroys my confidence. But, bad races or not, my family, teammates, coaches, and most of all, my sister, make sure to congratulate me and make sure I’m OK after every race. My goal is to change some of the bad mindsets I have toward track, especially before my college career. If you didn’t know already, I’m down to three colleges for my final decision: MTSU, Austin Peay, and Southern Illinois. This will be a big decision in my life, considering where I pick will determine where I spend the next four years. Some wise words from my coach, Coach D: “Don’t rush it, take your time. In the end, it is your decision when you sign those papers. Don’t listen to what everyone else is doing on the internet. It’s Mariah’s future and decision.” I think back on these words all the time and take them seriously, especially since Coach D has always been a man of his word and great with advice—not just for me, but for the rest of my teammates. I thank him a lot for everything he’s done.And very appreciative for how much time he spends training with me. But let’s not forget the man who introduced me to it all, Coach Ward. My Chapel Talk wouldn’t even be about track and field, if it weren’t for him. And honestly, I couldn’t think of anything else I would want to write about to be honest. I started running track when I was eight because of Coach Ward. He brought me into the culture and the love that I have for track and field today, and I thank him for that. He is the person who introduced me to the 400m, my favorite event, and the event I consider myself the best at out of all of them. I don’t know if I say it enough but thank you Coach Ward. There are four other people I want to thank: Coach Beverly, for always believing in me and cheering me on, win or lose; and Coach Jenna, thank you for always keeping it real, even though I annoy you 99 percent of the time. And to Coach Green, thank you for pushing me every step of the way in each strength class that I have taken with you, I will always remember every piece of advice you’ve given me. And to coach Enicks, even though I left my cross country career in the 10th grade, I will never forget the dreadful six-mile runs that helped me with my endurance. And everyone who has had an effect on my life with this sport: I appreciate you more than you know. And if you get anything out of this Talk, just know: Never give up, don’t listen to anyone who has anything negative to say about YOU. Do what you want to do, and always go 100 percent. Thank you.

Harper Jenkins Thank you to Hunter and Laney for that sweet introduction. You mean the world to me and I love you so much. Thank you to everyone in the first few rows for taking the time out of your day to hear me speak, it means a lot. Lastly, shout out to my Rat, Sophie. You are the sweetest and I hope you cherish your time at GPS because it really does fly by. Have you filled a bucket today? This is the name of a book that my guidance counselor, Ms. Smart, read to my class in elementary school. This book didn’t have much meaning to me until recently; I liked it but didn’t realize its impact on me; looking back it is the only book I can remember. It talks about how everyone has an invisible bucket that they walk around with. It can be filled with happy things or spilled with sad things. You spill a bucket if you say or do mean things. You fill a bucket by being kind or showing love to someone. Filling someone’s bucket can be anything big or small. You need other people to fill your bucket and other people need you to fill theirs. Your friends and family fill your bucket. This book is important because it encourages me to reflect on the people and places that have filled my bucket and how they have built me into who I am today. Nolan Elementary School is where it all started. My best friends were Elle and Aislin during most of my time there. They filled my bucket with countless memories, like selling rocks on the side of the road or making forts at each other’s houses for hours. We spent so much time together, and I will always remember them as their elementary selves. We aren’t as close as we were then, but I still love them and get excited to see them every time. The time I spent with them helped fill my bucket in ways I will cherish forever. I also met my best friend Laney at Nolan. We were in the same kindergarten class but didn’t become best friends until fourth grade, yet we still say we have been friends since kindergarten. We grew closer and closer as we got older. Our friendship has continued to fill my bucket ever since. Although elementary school will probably be the only time we ever go to school together, this didn’t hold us back. Starting in sixth grade we split when I went to GPS and she went to Baylor. We still saw each other at least three times a week. We climbed together every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Climbing together is really where we became the closest. We used to climb to the top and meet each other so we could talk about boys and hide for the rest of practice; this was our way of avoiding more climbing. We were also known as the matchmakers of the team because one time we had two coaches who barely knew each other. Laney and I walked up to them and asked “How old are you?” When they both said they were 23, we naturally responded with “You guys should get married!” They are now married, and Laney and I were in their wedding. Even when we didn’t want to climb, we loved it. I will always be so grateful for climbing and all it has done to fill my bucket. Another place that fills my bucket the most is Camp Vesper Point. I was a camper when I was younger and when I was finally old enough, I became a kitchie. I have spent three summers there making new friends and strengthening my relationship with the Lord. I spent two summers as a kitchie, where I worked in the kitchen helping prepare meals and clean. The early mornings and the long nights helped me become closer to these people. This past summer I worked as a counselor. I got to teach young girls about God and lead them in their spiritual journey the best I could. I tried to fill their buckets as much as possible and, in return, they filled my bucket in ways they will never know.

One week I was co-counselors with my friend Martha. She had just turned 17 but I was still 16 at the time. This week we had girls who were in 10th grade, which means I was only one year older than them, because of this I didn’t tell them my actual age until the end of the week. When they asked how old I was I replied, “Nineteen.” They soon caught on that I wasn’t actually 19, because I didn’t look or act like it. This same week the power went out Wednesday night and didn’t come back on until 2 a.m. Our cabin already didn’t have air conditioning, we just had fans. Without fans and lights, it was very hard to go to sleep. We had to take showers in the dark with a flashlight hanging from the curtain. Since it was so hot, I couldn’t fall asleep, but I was too scared to not have a blanket. My other co-counselor was Kailey. While everyone else was asleep we were struggling together. It was cooler outside so we would get up every few minutes and walk around. We eventually got too tired to walk around, so we moved a twin mattress to the floor right next to the door to try to cool down enough to be able to fall asleep. The power eventually came back on and we moved back to our beds. Even though we didn’t get much sleep that night it was worth it to be able to spend extra time with Kailey bonding over no sleep. While these seem like unfortunate events, looking back on it now I know God did all of this and put all of these people in my life for a reason. These are some of the big moments in my life that have shaped me, but the little moments mean just as much if not more, like when one time I was with Hazel and we were driving to Starbucks. I had accidentally turned her hazard lights on and she said “Why am I turning both ways?” We realized I had turned on her hazard lights, and I quickly turned them off. This story may not mean much to you but to me, it shows how such a small moment can fill your bucket. Another thing that fills my bucket is being a Wyldlife leader. We recently had an event called the Chillympics, it’s like the color war but with ice cream. After being targeted by my sister, I had multiple buckets of ice cream dumped on my head. By the end of the night, my hair was matted with ice cream. This night was very messy yet I loved it because I got to spend time with my friends making new silly memories. The reason why little moments like these mean so much to me is because I think they have the biggest impact on my friendships. These moments create memories that I will remember the most. The one thing that I can always count on to fill my bucket is laughter. That’s why most of these stories and memories surround laughter. I love to laugh until it hurts or I pee my pants, which happens more often than you would think. If you know me I am generally happy all the time. This is why laughter fills my bucket the most. My bucket will forever be full and no one can ever spill it. These are just some of the memories and friends I have made. I am still building, growing, and walking around with my bucket. I will continue to make new memories but I will never forget the memories I’ve made. I will cherish them forever. So thank you to everyone who has filled my bucket, whether you know it or not. And to everyone here today, I encourage you to find the people who fill your bucket the most. Thank you!

Blythe Lavin This is Maria Blythe Lavin. She loves animals and finds wonder in all forms of nature. She is very passionate about her niche and nerdy interests. Whether it’s Little House on the Prairie at three or sharks at 17, she’s eager to read and learn all she can—and to share her knowledge with anyone who will listen. Everytime it rains, she can be found frolicking in the mud. Her parents despair of getting her to wear shoes anytime she goes outside. She has a flair for the dramatic, and requires her family to sit for plays she has written and directed and magic shows frequently. She brings a book everywhere she goes—the beach, the car, parties, family dinners. She loves to dive into different worlds, both real and fantastical, and to envision them through another’s eyes.

She doesn’t know the meaning of the word self-conscious. If you ever asked her to hide or obscure the louder parts of her personality, she wouldn’t know how. Being herself, openly and genuinely, is all she knows. Over the past four years, I’ve become obsessed with how others perceive me. Do you think I’m a black cat or a golden retriever? If you could describe me in three words, what would they be? What was your first impression of me? Do I seem intimidating? I’ve pestered many friends and acquaintances with these inane questions, eager to uncover my true reputation at this school. For the past four months of my life, I haven’t been able to base my identity off of external perspectives. Writing college essays demands that you reflect on yourself as a whole—who you are, what you value, and all the experiences that shaped you into that person. Between 650-word supplemental essays and short “Why us?” statements, I’ve written about 20. I’ve picked apart my extracurriculars, my academic record, any meaningful experience I’ve ever had, trying to find the parts that would seem most appealing to this or that school. In talking about my hopes and dreams for the future, I’ve had to get back in touch with my younger self. As I combed through my past, I was awed by how much I’d changed. I wonder about that younger self. Would she be proud of me? Would she look up to the person I am today? It’s terrifying to ask yourself these things. My childlike perspective was one of utter faith in me and my ability to accomplish whatever I set my mind to. This is thrown into utter contrast with the doubts and anxieties that rule my current psyche. Somewhere between Laura Ingalls Wilder and AP exams 2024, I let my anxiety and doubt dim the joy, the confidence, the enthusiasm I’ve been known for all my life. Many who’ve known me all four years I’ve been here might protest that I’ve stayed true to myself all along. Yes, I expressed my boldest self in small ways, in different spaces. Theater was the first place at GPS where I truly felt free to be myself, my whole self, all the time. I’ve had the honor of playing incredible roles, but the reason why I keep coming back has always been the community. I met some of my closest friends through theater. I’ve never experienced anything like the bond amongst a cast and crew. Maybe it’s rehearsing ’til 9 p.m. on weekdays during tech. Maybe it’s sharing cramped dressing rooms. Maybe it’s weird acting exercises where you end up running into people or staring into their eyes for uncomfortably prolonged amounts of time. Or maybe it’s the traditions—senior speeches, bingo, Waffle House. Whatever it is, rehearsals were where I first gained confidence at GPS. As I look back, auditioning for the fall play was one of the best decisions I ever made. I tried something new, but at the same time, I grew closer to the little girl who staged skits so she could boss around her brothers and cousins, and joined a community who’d help me unite the old and new parts of myself. Despite my love for theater, and many other communities around GPS, I didn’t want to come back for senior year. I had a blast at Governor’s School this summer. A fresh start with people equally nerdy as me, Gov School opened my eyes to what college could be like. When I sang Chappell Roan karaoke, signed up for yoga classes, or roamed the library, I wished that I felt the same excitement I did there at GPS—not just in the theater, or Ms Berotti’s classroom, but everywhere.

When I began senior year, I set a goal for myself. I’d lost myself a bit the last three years, and things needed to change. Instead of trying to fit in or worrying what others thought of me, I’d focus on being myself, counting how many decisions I made in a day that felt right and kind and honest—not how many people I sat with at a lunch table. With this mindset, senior year has been the best one so far. Letting yourself be ruled by what others think of you is no way to live. When I stopped worrying about appearances and focused on myself, I realized that my preoccupation with social hierarchy had led me to overlook the incredible friends in my life already. I realized how many amazing experiences I’d had, and discounted, because they didn’t fit into my bias of what high school is supposed to look like. Once I became vulnerable about genuine, squishy parts of myself—the little girl hidden under layers of fear—I forged some of my deepest friendships ever. ​ Finding honest friendships and safe spaces has allowed me to reconnect with little Blythe. I’m working hard to become someone she’d be proud of. I’m still working on recapturing the unbounded joy and faith that my younger self took for granted. I want to believe in myself, and in the good of humanity, as unfailingly as she did when she was five. I think I’m doing better now, though. I’m known for being an enthusiastic person when it matters most. When my friends perform on stage, they always tell me afterwards they could pick my cheers out from the crowd. And if you ask me for a book recommendation, I might literally jump up and down with joy. To my guests who knew this Blythe: thank you for your years of love and support. I stand here, on this stage, but I know your hearts are with me. To the climbing team: Thanks for the best bus trips ever. MOCCHAA. To Mr. Arick: YGG. To the theater kids: You’ve seen me at my most vulnerable and my most crazy, as this photo of me and Lara from the spirit week bonfire can attest. You weirdos brought out my inner weirdo. I hope you always look out for each other and keep the traditions alive. To Rosie, the sweetest Rat I could have ever asked for: Your talents and your kindness will take you so far at GPS and beyond, so remember to savor these next six years and always, always be your amazing self. To my brothers: Y’all are goofy goobers and I love you all so much. I remember holding each of you in my arms as newborns, and now Louis is as tall as I am (not taller, whatever he might claim). Take care of each other, and Mom and Dad, when I’m not within bothering distance next year. However, even when I “leave to college,” you’re only a phone call away…. mua-ha-ha. To Mama and Daddy: Thank you for reading to me. Thank you for making me tissue-paper flowers to encourage my homespun performances. Thank you for sending me pictures that remind me of simpler times and littler brothers. Thank you for creating a home full of love that nurtured the little girl who is holding my hand and helping me give this Talk today. ABBA said it best. “Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say, thank you for the music, for giving it to me.” Thank you!

Natalie McCorvie Thank you so much, Rylee, for introducing me. I am so grateful to be your big sister. Thank you to my parents for giving me so many incredible opportunities. I can’t thank y’all enough. Thank you to everyone in the first few rows who took time out of your day to come hear me speak. Lastly, shout out to my Rat, Rylee. Kendall and I are so lucky to be your Cats and hope you have the best seven years here. It’s the first day of sixth grade at Girls Preparatory School. I am very excited but also nervous to be in such a new environment. As soon as I walked into the chapel while everyone was singing “We’re All in This Together” from High School Musical, I knew this was where I belonged. Fast forward two years. It was now my last day of middle school and the eighth grade celebration was quickly approaching. At the eighth grade celebration, I was tasked with giving a speech along with my classmates, reflecting on my middle school years. After the summer had passed, high school was soon to begin. These next four years, I had to cherish my childhood and start to focus on my future. During my high school years at GPS, I would share many unique traditions with my classmates. The first tradition occurred on a freshman’s first day of high school when the entire class walked across the lawn from the middle to upper school. This resembles the next step each young girl must take to grow up and start their new journey in high school. The biggest tradition at GPS is May Day. During a girl’s sophomore year, she must wrap the maypole with her classmates to honor the seniors. Each girl wears their traditional GPS uniform with her assigned pole’s sash color. It’s now my senior year and I stand before every single one of you to share my Chapel Talk. You are probably wondering what this Talk’s theme is and why I am sharing my favorite memories from my time at Girls Prep. Each of these memories and traditions is one core element that has great significance in my life. This is a long black skinny ribbon that lays effortlessly on my GPS uniform every day and is a core component in each of the traditions I shared. From the time I was little to even now, bows and ribbons have always been a big part of me. When walking into my room, there is a common theme of bows; pink, white, gold, each of all shapes and sizes. Simply they are used to decorate, but they also showcase my girly and delicate energy. The signature GPS bow and my room isn’t the only place a ribbon and bows can be found. A white ribbon tied into a larger bow, than the GPS one, with a McCallie “M” dangling on the end sits perfectly on my high ponytail each Friday night while cheering on the McCallie Blue Tornado. I joined Blue Crew in my junior year. At first, I thought this was simply to get gameday experience, so I could commit to a dance team in college. Little did I know that these girls would become some of my biggest supporters and closest friends. One thing that brought us all together wasn’t just the uniform but the unique bow that each of us wore on Friday nights. Looking back on my previous season with the Blue Crew, we shared many many wins including state, and each of these was shared with the white bow in my hair. As many of you know, tomorrow is the well-anticipated Baylor vs. McCallie football game. You will once again see a white bow resting on my high ponytail while I cheer on the Big Blue. A simple ribbon strung through one loop into another creating a bow. This one simple piece of material is very special to me.

Other than a GPS ribbon and cheer bow being very significant parts of me, I never truly shared what is the biggest part of my identity. This is dance, a sport that has been a part of my life for over 15 years. Even though bows or ribbons were never represented through dance, it was still what little two-year-old me wore in her bright red curly hair on the first day of ballet class. I don’t wear a little pink bow in my hair to dance anymore, but I will always remember the little girl who fell in love with dance while that bow bounced around in her wild curly hair. Whether walking into the chapel on the first day of sixth grade, wrapping the maypole, or twirling around in my first dance class, one key component tied everything together, a ribbon. Thank you and GO BIG BLUE!

Sylvie Miller Thank you to my sweet grandmother for introducing me today, and thank you to all my guests for being here today. You guys mean so much to me. Also, shoutout to my Rat, Evie; I hope you enjoy your GPS years as much as I have. How are people supposed to know what happens after they die? Well, we don’t know and these concepts of life and death consume the minds of many each day. This includes me. Recently, every day, for weeks, I have thought about my answers to this question of the afterlife. All this thinking has led me to a definition of faith, and that’s what I would like to define today. The Oxford Dictionary defines faith as “complete trust and confidence in someone or something.” Specifically, I want to emphasize the importance of “trust” in this definition. When you trust someone, most of the time you have reason to trust them and you wouldn’t usually just trust a random person. This is how I see my faith. I feel as though faith can sometimes be seen as “blindly trusting,” but my opinion is that when we have faith in someone or something we have a foundation of trust for it. To show you an example of faith, I have chosen the story of the faith I have in my mom. One day, at my grandmother’s house, my mom, brother, and I were over at Gram’s house for one reason or another. I’m guessing my mom had been a little busy that day, considering what she forgot when she left Gram’s house: me. She forgot me. Since my mom is a person who deeply cares for me and I love her, I trusted her on this day and did not feel she had abandoned me or that she wouldn’t come back. Once my mom had left the house, she realized she had left me, too. So immediately turning back around, she arrived and found me just sitting on the porch with no worry in the world. I was just enjoying my day, knowing she would come back for me and I didn’t have to panic about it. Relating this to my religion, I have faith in God. Others may have faith in their religion as well—whoever or whatever that may be. From my personal experience, I trust that God is the entity controlling the universe and he is the one who will save us one day. Now I trust this not because someone tells me to, but because I feel that he is here with me all the time. Although, I would like to point out that feelings aren’t necessarily the “truth,” but to each person, their feelings are the realest experience they encounter. Another way to backup faith is through finding evidence of this theory or concept. I want to make this the most important statement of this talk. I do not need proof to believe in my faith. However, sometimes it is easy to get discouraged when you can’t necessarily see your faith in a physical form. So, knowing I wanted to prove to myself that God is real, I did some research. I encountered this audiobook on Spotify, Imagine the God of Heaven by John Burke. Thanks to my dad for giving me the recommendation for his original audiobook called Imagine Heaven, I was able to find the updated version. This book is about literally trying to imagine God in heaven. He talks about the near death

experience that others have reported happen to them, either during a surgery or some form of a fatal accident. I couldn’t find a direct quote, but in the audiobook he talks about faith and how we don’t need the proof of these near death experiences. We just have to believe. We have to have faith in our beliefs. He gives those near death examples to show both sides of religion: faith and truth. However, like I’ve stated before, all I need is faith; not blind faith, but real faith. At first I was skeptical of his argument, but when I heard about the experiences those patients had, I fully started to believe that he was real. To this day, I am still listening to this audiobook and my beliefs still stand. Now back to the topic of life and death. At night, for the longest time, I would stay up thinking and worrying about this. I would try my hardest to slow my brain down and stop these thoughts consuming my mind. I would fail and cry about the thought of my life or the lives of my loved ones ending. I understand this might be hard to talk about for us, knowing we have no knowledge of what actually happens in the end. If you are struggling with this, don’t worry; you’re not alone. We all come across that worry one day no matter how confident we are in our beliefs. When I was in my junior year, I never thought I would be here. Same thing with the nighttime anxiety. I never thought those spinning worries would go away, and I worried about making it to the next day that maybe something would happen when I was sleeping. Well, I have proved my anxiety wrong. Here I am, on this stage, giving my Chapel Talk to the ones who made me who I am today. I would like to end with a song that reminds me of faith. Because just like faith, music is something that you can’t see, but you feel it. I feel this song in my soul, every note. So please, while you listen, try and feel this song like I do.

Charlotte Myers Hannie, thank you so much for being by my side since sixth grade. You make me laugh like no other, and I know I can always count on you to tell me the truth even if I don’t want to hear it. Scarlett, I cannot ever put into words how much you mean to me. I know that no matter where we end up in life, you will always be my partner in crime… and I can’t wait for Scarlett and Charlotte to have sons named Frank and Hank. Shoutout to my guests in the first few rows. You guys are awesome and every single one of you has shaped me into the person I am today. I feel as though my first thank you should go to my closest friends, also known as Geeked. I mean it from the bottom of my heart, I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for y’all. You are the most loyal, amazing, and caring friends and I couldn’t be more thankful. My next thank you goes to all the GPS faculty. I am beyond blessed to spend my teenage years with the people who truly make this place the most fun and supportive community ever. On behalf of all the students, you rock and we love y’all! I would also like to thank every single family member for being here today and my family in general. You all have helped me so much and have sacrificed so much for me, and I don’t know where I would be without you. Lastly, thank you to my parents. I know I don’t say this every day, but I could never put into words how grateful I am for you. You put in work like no other parents, and I am so privileged to be your daughter. I have a long history of embarrassing myself. I have weird little habits, I make the occasional ill-advised choice, and I have some fantastically bad luck. You may have seen me lurking the halls of GPS, and if you’re lucky enough, you probably have noticed me drawn to certain objects, for instance, the fire emergency alarm. To quickly assure you, I have never pulled the fire alarm … yet, but I have developed a habit of touching things that come across my path, which leads me to a quite memorable story on Friday, September 9, 2022.

After attending the jersey-themed football game, I had arrived at the Davenport household. I strolled past Emma’s little brother’s room, but something caught my eye: a burnt-red plunger. Like I said before, I do touch everything in sight and, as expected, I’m sure you can assume my next move. Unlike with the fire alarms at school, my intrusive thoughts got the best of me. One thing led to another, and suddenly the plunger was firmly stuck on my rear. It was so stuck, that I was able to slide down the stair railing and have a photoshoot around the house without it coming off. If you don’t believe me, just ask Emma’s mom or dad who witnessed the whole scene live. After multiple attempts, Emma’s mom was successfully able to remove the plunger. I think it’s safe to say that I was certainly embarrassed having a member of the GPS Board pull a plunger off my glutes, but in the end, I survived the embarrassment. Next up, September 4, 2022. After a couple of months of hosting at Taco Mamacita, I had developed a couple of crushes on some of my coworkers. Luckily I’ve mastered making creative, comedic videos on a well-known platform called TikTok. I decided to make a cute little “tik tok” about all my crushes at work because what else does a 15-year-old girl have better to do? The 15-second long montage included pictures of my coworkers that I found off their Linkedin and Facebook accounts. Now here’s where the plot twist comes in: Although my TikTok account was private, it seems I had a security breach. With my luck, this video got leaked to the whole staff, and all my coworkers saw it, including my 23-year-old male manager who was lucky enough to be featured in this video. Going to work the next day was a bit awkward to say the least, but I have to somehow show the college admission committees I am hardworking. Miraculously, I kept my job, and to this day I am a proud employee. Unfortunately, I don’t have a ranking of my most embarrassing stories, but if I did, this moment would hold place at number one. It was February 3, 2023 and I had just entered the GPS bathroom near the cafeteria. As I walked out of the stall to wash my hands, I noticed that the toilet wasn’t flushing. That’s odd I thought to myself. I turned around to attempt to flush the toilet again, only to find that the water was rising at an unusually fast pace. I sprinted up to the nurses office to share the incident, hoping I could get giggles. However, I failed to notice that multiple friend groups were surrounding me and hearing me, so the secret got out: I, Charlotte Myers, was the one who clogged and overflowed the GPS toilet in the big stall near the cafeteria. So now you’re probably thinking how on Earth does a high school girl never get embarrassed but still happily continue her journey? To be honest, part of me loves the attention I get. But to be fully transparent, I wasn’t always someone who was happy. From the start of my junior year to the beginning of my senior year, I truly had hit rock bottom. And not just the “Oh-my-gosh- junior-year-sucks” type of rock bottom, but a serious mentally concerning type of rock bottom. My spirited self was slowly fading, and I was internally a zombie. I went on antidepressants, had numerous appointments and Zooms with multiple doctors, was offered therapy and counseling, and even hospitalization, but it seemed that none of those methods could get me out of the dark side. My teachers, friends, and family were all so concerned because it seemed as if nothing could help my disturbing thoughts. I was stuck in pain every day and thought it would never get better. However, a few weeks into my senior year, I accepted that even though I might not be happy at the time, it won’t be this bad forever. So I started to find answers. The one answer that not only helped me get out of my depression was also the same answer that has taught me how to never get embarrassed. It’s a simple truth we as society cannot always accept and it is that “The world keeps spinning.” I could go on and on and on with my hundreds of unlucky stories just to prove that no matter how many embarrassing things will happen, the sun will rise once again and it will be a new day. I know it sounds crazy because it’s so simple and seems obvious, but society acts as if it’s not. When I finally wanted to let my world keep spinning and not stop, I slowly started to have motivation again. Sure my medicine could have helped some, but the real solution came from my knowledge. I had worked so hard to wake up and to live my life as it is, even after I had gone through the most tragic, horrendous moments of my life, so why should I end my life now?

To everyone in the audience, and especially the young teenage girls in this auditorium, I truly believe you are meant to have everything you want in life. The only thing that is stopping you is yourself. And while it could be because of failure, I think it’s more than that. I think we’re embarrassed to fail. We live in a society today where we have so much comfortability in being comfortable. But that needs to change. We need to be comfortable with being uncomfortable and the only way to do this is to allow yourself to live life, which means you’re gonna have to accept being embarrassed. Like some people say, "Charlotte, I sometimes think you just talk to talk.” Unfortunately I’m going to have to give the people the satisfaction of that statement being true. If you have ever had a sit-down conversation with me, you have probably noticed I don’t believe in “filters” or “TMIs” because I would rather be fully embarrassed than block out my real self. While my true colors might be embarrassing to other people, that’s what makes me, me! No matter what you do, or how badly you’ve done, it is always easier to let go of the embarrassment than to hold on. You were not placed on this earth to satisfy everyone and make everyone’s life comfortable. Just remember, the only way to get to the light at the end of the tunnel is to just go through the dark part of it, so be weird, be crazy, be loud, embrace being uncomfortable, but most importantly be embarrassed. Because at the end of the day, the world keeps spinning. Thank you!

Eileen Nash Thank you, Katie, for always being there for me, supporting me, and introducing me today. Also, thank you to my siblings for being here, especially those of you flying in! You all mean so much to me. A big shout out to my Rat, Dottie. You are truly the sweetest, and I hope your next six years here are full of laughter and fun times. Thank you to all of my guests for taking the time out of your day to hear me speak. Each and every one of you has made such a difference in my life, and I am truly grateful. Mom and Dad, you have done so much for me and always encouraged and pushed me; thank you for all you do. My legs were burning; my heart was pounding loudly in my chest; the wind was whistling past my ears, and cold water splashed my back, causing me to inhale sharply. The water was whitecapping and crashing into my single, filling the boat with icy water. This rowing boat, named The House, is a very small boat, less than a foot wide, and truly built for flat water and calm winds. Definitely not for these harsh weather conditions. My mind was racing. What if I flip, oh no bad stroke, oh no, oh no, oh no. My mind was filled with negative thoughts, all swirling. Panic rose through my body, I tensed up, first in my chest, then that slowly rose up to my shoulders, and continued till I began to tear up. I was scared. I felt so alone in that moment. I was only five minutes into the race, which made me doubt myself even more, knowing I still had 20 minutes left in these conditions. The finish line was so far away. It felt incredibly intangible. As my mind continued to spiral with negative thoughts, I heard a girl nearby me say, "We got this." Those three little words seemed to spark a light within my dark cloud of thoughts. I began to sit up a little taller. I thought of my previous race that morning and the positive words of encouragement that my teammate Caroline had said to spur us on. Slowly, my shoulders began to relax. I felt my chest soften. I remembered that even if I was alone physically in the boat through this treacherous water, I had people with me. Whether those people were the ones I was racing against, my teammates, or my family, people were there for me. My opponents were going through the same waters as I was. All of us were struggling and fighting. Good stroke, lousy stroke.

That is one thing I love about rowing and one thing that has taught me so much. This sport has taught me how to stay in the present. You might take hundreds of different strokes through the race, all a little different and unique in their own way but all rather similar. No matter how good or bad an individual stroke or practice might be, you have a fresh one waiting for you. You have a chance to start over. The pace is too fast to worry about what mistake you made in the past. You have to stay present and prepare for the next stroke. Constantly working on individual movement and choices regarding where you are in the stroke and how to improve. Instead of thinking about the time I had left and the distance I hadn’t yet covered, I thought of what I had already achieved. I had already made it so far. Each stroke brought me closer to the finish line (and to dry land and warmer clothes because I was very cold). As the race continued, my anxious thoughts began to dissipate. I turned the bend and went under the big bridge in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. I knew this part of the course well, as there were about 2000 meters left of the race, the typical length for our spring season. I had raced this section many times and began to feel more confident. As my confidence grew and I focused on small movements and segments of the race, that was more manageable. The water was still treacherous, and it was seemingly impossible to make it to the finish line—at least not without taking a swim first. I heard my name in the distance. I knew those voices. I quickly glanced out of the boat and saw my brothers, Connor and Quinn, and my parents jumping up and down, cheering me on and telling me to dig deeper and push harder. Telling me I got it. I can do hard things. And to just go. I now know that my very stressed mom was just praying I made it out of the race safely. I’m telling you, the weather was really no joke that day. My family is my biggest supporter, especially in rowing. Part of the reason I feel so deeply connected to rowing is because I have been around it my whole life. All of my siblings rowed in high school, and some of them even continued into college. My oldest brother, Iain, and the twins, Connor and Quinn, started rowing when I was only a few months old, and Dylan followed suit shortly after. I have been around the boathouse and many races my whole life. I often feel so much nostalgia while racing at common venues like Oak Ridge because I have so many memories of different races while cheering on my siblings, like feeding the ducks on the river’s edge or sitting in the cold rain looking for their boats. I have spent so much time watching them, and I am so thankful to have shared my love for this sport with my siblings, as my brothers and sister are all older than me and left for college when I was still very young. It is something we can always talk about and often do. I love calling Katie up and asking for advice or telling her about the latest practice. And I get so excited to tell all of them about my latest PR or my next race. I often think about them and what they have taught me when rowing, especially when I struggle in a race or practice. But as I continue the race—almost to the finish line now—I hear my team. I think of all the practices and struggles leading up to this point. We had to get through so many hard workouts together, good practices, and more challenging days. But it’s not just the good days and the jokes and laughter that I remember when I think of my four years rowing with this team. I think of the struggle and the support we give each other. I remember how we were in it together; we win as a boat and lose as a boat. I think of how far we have come from getting disqualified during my freshman year at the Nationals to earning silver the next year and many more medals.

As I cross the finish line, I look over to see my team jumping up and down, cheering for me. I was so proud of myself and what I had accomplished at that moment. I made it through the race. I struggled and fought, and I began to cry, but for a very different reason this time: It was because of the reward that came from all the hard work and struggle to get to that point. I think that struggle is important. Going through struggles is when you find the people who stick by you. You find your cheerleaders in life. You grow and learn more about yourself and learn different lessons in the process. It is not just the big lessons you might learn, but pay attention to the small ones as well because little actions really do matter: the small hello’s in the halls, the “we got this” for the girl I was racing, and even just a smile or a compliment make a big difference in people’s days. So be there for each other and find the people that lift you up and support you. Never shy away from the struggle, try to find the light in the journey, and try to find something to learn about yourself and others in the process. My heart is so full of thanks to the people and communities around me who have supported me and brought me so much joy and love, so I thank you.

Erin Naylor Hello! Thank you all for coming to my photo gallery. You may be asking yourself: Why did I decide to do a photo gallery instead of a traditional Chapel Talk? I decided to do a photo gallery instead mostly because of the huge public speaking part involved in giving a Talk. If you know me, then you know that I cannot speak well or like, at all. I don’t know why this is though. I also think if I were to do a “real” Chapel Talk, I would freeze up and leave the stage or do something like that. I don’t think I would be okay with everyone looking at me or maybe not even paying attention to me while I speak for around five to seven minutes. While I may not enjoy public speaking, I do enjoy taking photos. I want to do photography on the side of what I do for work or for my actual job. Ever since I had a phone camera, I would take pictures, mostly of sunrises and my cats but never of myself. I hate pictures taken of me; that’s always why I chose to do a photo gallery rather than public speaking. I chose these photos because they all bring me some sort of joy. Either by a memory of that day or just admiring what it is. I chose these pictures because they represent me and remind me of who I am and what I want to be. I hope that everyone seeing these photos could reflect on something or someone who makes them feel happy and accomplished.

These are all of the animals that I have. I love them all but, to be honest, some more than others. I love my cat Opal (the one in the pink sweater) because she seems to always be there for me since we have gotten

her. I think we both have separation anxiety when I’m at school or away for a trip or just not in the house. I always feel like I have to be with her, and my parents say the same thing about her because of how she cries for me when I’m not home. But I love them all no matter how much I might favor one over the other. They all bring me so much joy and I couldn’t imagine having a life without my animals. I really hope to work with any sort of animal in the future and show them just some of the same love I show to my pets.

I’ve always enjoyed going to my grandparent’s house, whether it was to visit or stay a few days over a break. When I go here for breaks and stay a few days, it always feels like a real break. I don’t have to worry about anyone judging me or anyone who I might know from school popping up. We also go to the local food markets, and they have the best corn. I love my grandma’s church group. When I visit, they are always asking questions about me or gossiping. I also love seeing my grandma’s cats, one of whom, Lucky, is in the photo. He’s named Lucky because when they found him he was almost hit by a car, so he is very lucky!

This is from my family trip to San Francisco four years ago. I got to see so much beautiful scenery, like this photo from Muir Beach. I really enjoy looking at this photo because of the big rock/little island because it looks peaceful. We walked to the top of this cliff and took so many photos, and while we were in San Francisco, we went to Chinatown. We didn’t stay too long because it was so windy and cold that my dog was shivering so bad that we had to rub her to try and warm her. I think we had the best dumplings and chicken ever from there. I hope I can go back someday to go to more sightseeing scenery and more great food.

This picture was from my first-ever trip with GPS. It was such a great introduction to GPS as a whole because I enjoyed it a lot. The people I was with were so sweet, and we were all new as well, so we could all explore the new “freedom” we had with GPS. This could include going somewhere without a teacher being always “right there,” or from simple things like not having to ask to use the restroom. The only downside was it being hot and sweating everywhere that I went. I hoped that GPS would be like this always, and it is. We get more say about where we are and what we are doing and more freedom than most schools. I tried to enjoy this my first year at GPS because I was all new to it, so everything felt so weird and out of place, but now it all feels normal. It shows how much we take for granted sometimes. We can always show gratitude by appreciating it and enjoying the little things that we have.

This photo was from my job I did in the summer of 2022, near Benton Falls. I worked with the Southeastern Conservation Corps Youth for a camping job with other youth crew members. We worked on trails during the weekdays, and on the weekends we would do something educational or chill out and have free time. I like this photo because it shows so much of the land around the mountain and how high up we were. I made so many friendships from this and learned some life lessons. During this summer, I hope to do a non-Youth crew since I am 18 and do a three-month crew or a one-month day crew where I would be the assistant leader of a youth crew. I really want to work outside in some capacity for my future career, whether it’s a conservation job or something to do with wildlife. I hope in the future, I will be able to say that I’m a wildlife photographer or a ranger.

I’ve always loved going to the aquarium; it’s so calming, and I love just sitting down and watching the fish swim around. I love trying to take the “perfect picture” of the fish because it’s hard to do, which makes it more fun and more enjoyable. There are so many different types of marine life that it is hard to pick a favorite as well, which is why I included so many different pictures of them. I hope to work at the Tennessee aquarium or another aquarium one day to see “behind the scenes” or be one of the divers who feeds the fish and enjoy swimming around with the fish.

Cadence Nichols Thank you, Bristol, Brileigh, and Addyson for that sweet introduction. I love and will miss you all more than you know. Thank you to my mom for all the sacrifices you have made for me. I don’t know what I would do without you. Also, shout out to my Rat, ANASTASIA. You are the best Rat ever, and Gracie and I love you so much. Laughter is a constant in my life, but it wasn’t always. To everyone who knows me, you’ve probably experienced a time when I’ve laughed uncontrollably. That has not happened my whole life. I was diagnosed with narcolepsy when I was seven years old. For those of you who don’t know, narcolepsy is a chronic sleep disorder that affects one out of every 2,000 people in the United States. This sleep disorder

causes overwhelming daytime drowsiness and an unhealthy sleep pattern. It wasn’t until about four or five years ago that I started a new medication that changed my whole life. When I first started going through sleep studies, they just thought I had ADHD, ADD, OCD, which was not the case. I was put on stimulants which put me into a depressive state at only seven. It took a long time to find the right medication that made me feel normal. During Covid, I finally got on the medication I needed, and it is a type of medication that works better as you increase your dose. Around my freshman year of high school, it finally felt right. The medication requires me to take a dose before I go to sleep then one four hours later. Yes, I do wake up around 2 a.m. every night. Doing this helps my body relax and go to sleep. Without it, I might feel like I’m asleep, but I could wake up multiple times throughout the night. The medicine also helps me stay awake and more energetic throughout the day. Before I found the right medicine, I wasn’t able to have sleepovers, was told I wouldn’t be able to drive when I turned 16, and even had to quit softball, which was a passion of mine. The reason I had to quit was because there were times that I would fall asleep on the bench in the dugout when tournaments would sometimes go to around midnight. Anytime we had breaks during the tournaments, my mom would bring me to her car so I could sleep while all of my teammates were hanging out. When I found the right medicine, I was able to start exploring new opportunities that hadn’t been possible for me before. When I quit softball, my mom wanted me to try a new sport. Leading up to this decision, I had played soccer, basketball, and softball. Within the next year, she signed me up for YMCA volleyball. At the time I was so mad. I was mad because it was something new, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I loved softball because I knew how to play almost all the positions, and I was really good at it—in my opinion). But after playing YMCA volleyball for a year, I fell in love with it. The coaches even tried to move me up to a better team because I got the hang of it faster than other kids. After a while, my mom and I realized that I was the best on the team and that I needed new competition to improve. I then joined a new club named Scenic City Volleyball Club. In my first year with the club, I was 13, playing on the 13-1s team. This season did not go as we would have hoped and I only remember us winning silver in one tournament, but it’s OK. I just wanted to focus on getting better. The next year I played with the same club but I played up. So I was 14 playing on the 15-1s team. To be honest, this season was a blur, but I do know that we won more tournaments than the season before, which was good. At some of my tournaments, I would always end up watching A5 Chattanooga play. If I had off time, I was on their court watching them. They were all so good. It was my dream to be on that team. The next year I tried out for A5, Scenic City, and XSV, which was a new club in Chattanooga that year. I still remember going into the A5 tryout. I was so scared. There were two days of tryouts and, on the second day, you find out if you make the team by looking at a whiteboard. I still remember the feeling when that whiteboard turned around, and I was looking for my number. It was under the 15-1 National Mary team. I had done it. I made the team I had always wanted to play on. In order to commit to the team, you had to take a rose and sign a commitment sheet. Since I had tried out for three different clubs, I had a decision to make. The next day I decided to stick with the team I had always wanted to play on, and it was hard to hold in my excitement. I believe to this day that that decision was the best decision of my life. I have now been playing with A5 Chattanooga going on four years, and I have met my best friends and my greatest role models. I am now a part of a family I couldn’t live without. The constant laughter in practices and sometimes in games is the best feeling. I know that every single one of my teammates will be my best friends forever, and I am forever grateful for every single one of you. Finding the right medicine also changed my experience at GPS completely. There was a point when I didn’t think I could handle the balance of challenging academics and playing a sport year-round. I thought maybe I should make a change and leave the school because all of my classmates seemed to have the workload figured out. It was definitely hard to get used to. My freshman year I was not the best student. I

would procrastinate on homework because I had to sleep before practice, and I was not the person to engage in classes. I just wanted to keep quiet and live in my own little bubble. After finding the right medication, I made a change and I tried to do better. In my sophomore year, I started enjoying classes more. My grades were still not great in every class, but I would say that the effort to study and get homework done improved. Today, I am very on top of my school work and volleyball and lived out another dream of committing to play the sport I love in college. I went from the student who would not really say a word in class to the student who is not afraid to raise her hand and give an answer (unless I seriously don’t know the answer). So why am I giving you a Talk on how I am as a student and volleyball player? It is to show you that you can do anything that you set your mind to. THANK YOU.

Kendall Ownby Thank you, Lily, for your thoughtful introduction! Thank you to my parents for constantly supporting me through my endeavors! I love you all so much! Shout out to my sweet Rat, Rylee. Everyone says your time will fly at GPS, which is true, but I want to advise you to also appreciate every bond along your seemingly quick journey at this school! “Kendall and blue,” I responded quickly. Typically dreaded “get to know you” games on the first day of school seemed straightforward to third grade me this time. For context, here is third grade me (not the girliest girl). The question of favorite color was easy for me, as it was for the other girls who answered “blue” too. There is nothing a third-grade girl fears more than to be perceived as “basic,” falling into the typical expectations of girls. So, as the mix of loud and quiet personalities answered, “blue” was echoed over and over again. With each new grade and each new “get to know you” game, “Kendall and blue” was my default answer. After graduating fifth grade (where, of course, I still claimed to like blue), I applied to GPS, and at the time, I had no idea how much this school would impact me. This realization came at an unexpected moment my sophomore year. My friends and I were at a sleepover, in a circle with an excessive number of blankets and pillows. I asked the group “What color reminds you of me?”.The unanimous answer: hot pink. Not a subtle, muted, blush pink, but bright, hot pink. Instead of being offended, I felt pride: pink, not blue, just so happens to be my real favorite color. I now love fitting into the “basic” girly persona with a pink water bottle, pink clothes, and even a pink phone. I often wonder what my four-foot-five, tie-dye-wearing self would think of the affinity I express for the color pink now. As I’ve felt more comfortable embracing pink, I am also drawn to the trending “coquette” aesthetic, which stems from 17th-century French roots when women wore extravagant, frilly dresses. Now, this term is used to describe a hyper-feminine style of pink, bows, and ruffles. You just have to glance at me to know my love for this style. In fact, the rowing team awarded me “most coquette” at the end of last season. My friends and teammates allow me to feel comfortable outwardly loving what I love without fear of judgment. As I recalled that sleepover, I realized that the sense of belonging with this group of girls inspires me to make others feel just as secure when around me. The traditional notion of femininity is delicate and suppressed, yet I find confidence in being an athlete as well as an Honor Council representative. These

groups don’t fit the traits of “common femininity,” but the strength of the girls in these groups makes them such successful, collaborative programs. I aspire to convey what I term uncommon femininity by embracing diverse ideas and beliefs along with uplifting girls with my actions and words. A concept that encapsulates this uncommon feminity is a “girl’s girl.” Yes, this Gen-Z slang may have died several years ago, but I aspire to live by it. This is a type of woman who supports other women and places value in her female relationships. To clarify, I don’t believe being a girl’s girl means supporting women JUST because they are women. We aren’t obligated to support morally wrong actions in order to support our gender as a whole. My favorite example of ideal “girl’s girls” are my friends. They truly mean the world to me. I’ll admit I haven’t always supported them as I should or valued every single one of my connections. This is why being a “girl’s girl” is an aspiration. Making other women feel comfortable in a community is, what I deem, the most important aspect of uncommon femininity. The women I’m surrounded by have made me so comfortable in my skin, to the point where being embarrassed in front of them hardly affects me. My very first friend, my sister, has seen me through all of my phases, including the iPad kid phase (unfortunately). But maybe one of my most notable embarrassments is encapsulated in this video. Yes, Lily is still my best friend even after I mortified us during our high stakes performance. In fact, most of my friends have this video saved and they still claim to be my friends. We’ve laughed so hard at this video, but they never make me feel self conscious. Sometimes, there are moments when my friends shouldn’t make me feel so comfortable. It was a summer night (in a year I will not be disclosing *cough-cough* this year), and we were playing on the playground, as 17-year-olds do. My friend, Charlotte, and I were on the seesaw and, having just taken physics with Mr. Lyons, I tested a hypothesis theorizing how to get Charlotte the farthest vertical distance from ground level. As I slammed down my side of the seesaw, Charlotte flung forward in probably the closest near death experience of her life. As soon as we checked that Charlotte’s head was still on her shoulders, we laughed and laughed, and since I’m just a girl the intense laughter brought with it pee. Let’s pause. This moment would’ve been perfect for my friends to judge me. Instead, one of my friends shamelessly admitted to this happening to her, too. This relatability and pursuit to make each other comfortable is what makes me highly value my female friendships. The memory of this infamous night could be one of mortification, instead I look back on it positively because of the people I was with. But, I’m not the only one who is comforted by uncommon femininity. These are my friends dressed as unfashionable boys. Because, of course, the only disguise in which to spy on me at the Hixson Amigos is a fully decked out boy costume. Just a hat or sunglasses would be way too obvious. In fact, I didn’t notice them until the third time they walked by, looking directly at me. But, from what I heard, heads turned in the restaurant as they were seated at the bar. Now I have to admit something else to y’all. I was not alone at the Hixson Amigos. No, I was on a second date. Even so, I didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment. In theory, I should’ve pretended not to know them, but in reality I think my friends are really funny. I value how they were unafraid to be their hilarious selves in public, hence the outfits, and how we were able to laugh with each other without putting each other down. Now in sharing all of these stories, I’m not saying don’t support men. What I am saying is that “an estimated 60 percent of chronically hungry people are women,” “women make up more than two-thirds of the world’s 796 million illiterate people,” “Men’s average wages are higher than women’s in both rural and urban areas.” These statistics are directly quoted from a UN Women research article. Gender inequality is not made up, it is a fact. That is what drives me to lean into providing extra support to women. Uncommon femininity and “girl’s girls” aren’t simply cute phrases—mass support from women

to women will help us progress towards equity and proper advocacy. It’s so important for women to lift each other up and express gratitude for our female connections. This can be a simple act of making an embarrassing moment a lifetime memory not remembered by wincing pain but by laughter. The support of one woman in your life can inspire, and will have a ripple effect on all women. So when I reflect on my journey since sixth grade, I’m in awe of how empowering my school has been. My relationships affirm my belief in the strength of a woman, whether she embraces hyper-femininity through the love of pink or supports women through their embarrassing moments. Because expressing gratitude is so important, I’m going to end my talk with a thank you I saved for the end. Thank you so much to the girls in my life who lift other women up, value their connections with each other, and cherish the seemingly embarrassing memories made with each other. Thank you!

Gwyneth Parks Remaining Present Thank you, Connor, for introducing me. You’re the best brother and role model and I love you. Thank you to my friends and family for taking the time out of your day to come hear me speak. Shoutout to my Rat, Weesie. Treasure every moment, the highs and the lows, because by the time you’re in this position, you’ll see just how much you’ve grown! Lastly, thank you to my parents for sacrificing so much to send me to GPS and for your constant support. I love you both. This summer, I attended Governor’s School for Biological and Statistical Sciences. The program consisted of 30 students living at ETSU for five weeks and taking college statistics and biology. The days were long, as we sat in lectures and spent evenings pouring our efforts into assignments, projects, and studying for exams. On the weekends, we went on field trips, and these moments with my peers made the program truly memorable. On the final Saturday of the program, we were taken to a bluegrass concert in Hiltons, Virginia. The whole trip there, my mind was rushing. The week prior, I had spent hours studying for my statistics final, but it didn’t go as well as I had hoped. I absolutely hate getting bad grades, but they always tend to be in some sort of math or science class, so the feeling was familiar. And as someone who is a chronic overthinker, it feels like every bad grade is a glimpse into an incapability in my future studies. Simple thoughts like this begin to spiral, and I end up in an overall poor mood. We took our seats, and a group of musicians made their way to the stage. The fiddler raised his bow and struck his instrument. The floor was flooded with people of all ages dancing to the music. Surprisingly, the joyous array was enough to calm my anxious mind for a brief while and allow a smile to creep onto my face. Minutes passed, the music slowed to a somber melody, and loved ones embraced and swayed to the soft tempo. Unexpectedly, I felt my eyes welling with tears. I glanced over at my friend, and he, too, was sharing this emotion. “It’s really beautiful, seeing people happy.” He glanced at the scene and pointed to an older couple in the crowd watching the dancers. The gentleman had his arm wrapped around his wife.

I nodded in agreement. It was the oddest sensation, but I felt so emotionally overwhelmed watching such jovial peace amongst those on the floor. We continued to sit and listen, watching the crowd and observing the interactions among them. I eased into my seat and allowed my mind to wander. I’m in a very developmental phase of my life. I’m entering my final year of high school, and beginning to really consider my future in a serious manner, as I apply for college, and choose what I want to pursue for the rest of my life. In less than a year, the bubble I’ve lived in thus far will burst, and I will step into a new, and right now completely unknown chapter. To compensate for the fears I have toward this next step, I find myself dwelling on the future, even obsessed with it at times. So many of the years I’ve spent at GPS have felt dominated by efforts toward next steps, and this is expected given that we attend a preparatory school, but my unhealthy obsession with guaranteeing a perfect future has prevented me from so much in the moment. I don’t take the time to appreciate the present, current joys. While I’m excited for the future and whatever it brings, I think in all of my effort preparing for it I lose sight of what’s in front of me. So much of my life has felt consumed by whatever the next step is. As a kid, I was always anxious to move to the next phase. I was never fully present, and I look back and realize that all of the time I spent mentally in the future prevented me from relishing in the moment. Seeing the young kids on the dance floor was both sweet yet saddening. I wish that anxiety had not ruled my life at such a young age, preventing me from peace and joy in an extremely fundamental period. So many days were dominated by thoughts of what was to come that I barely recall the sweet memories I could’ve been presently enjoying, like those of the children on the dance floor. I cast my gaze toward an older couple, holding one another as they softly danced to the music. I desire growing old and having the ability to reflect upon my life. But I want to have fond memories, and not just reminisce on time constantly spent in an anxious state, dwelling on the future rather than the present. At first it was excitement about middle school and seeing which I’d attend, GPS or Baylor. Then it was moving to high school and immediately shifting my mindset toward college, and how I could best set myself up for success. I was in ninth grade, already on the college search even though there was not much I could’ve done as a freshman, and each day of junior year was tormented by the thoughts of becoming the perfect candidate for colleges, never allowing myself grace and constantly holding myself to an extremely high standard. Now it was the harsh criticism over a test that I was taking in a literal summer program. And while all of this is work toward the bright prospect of attending the perfect school, I’ll probably get to school and only focus on graduating and getting the perfect job. Then the perfect house, and setting myself up for the perfect retirement. It’s so easy to become consumed by the future. So many of these feelings come from fear and anxiety and spiral as a result of overthinking. At the concert, I was able to ease back into the present moment and admire what was in front of me. Happy people, living in the moment, being with those they love. And I can guarantee you not one of those individuals was worried about the troubles of tomorrow, rather relishing in the moment that they were being given. And it hit me, that was what I needed to grant myself—more time to live in the present. Going into this school year, I want to set an intentional goal for myself to spend more time in the present. I believe an awareness of each moment is a step I can take toward a more joy-filled life. While so much of senior year will be focused on work toward my next chapter, I don’t want the present joys to slip away.

While an odd experience, to find myself bawling at a stuffy outdoor concert with bluegrass enthusiasts and 29 random students from across the state, the awareness I gained was very impactful. The joy I experienced in that room, full of lovely people soaking up the present, reminded me of how frequently I don’t allow myself to enjoy this simple luxury. Bittersweet recognition of those around me prompted me to reflect on how much of my life has been spent on the next steps, and how I desire to switch this narrative going into such a whirlwind period. To the senior class, I’m so incredibly excited for this upcoming year and for all of our hard work to pay off. While it will be such an emotional period, we must remember to strike a balance between focusing on our big next step, and soaking in each day of our last year spent at 205 Island Avenue. As I remind myself to not dwell on the future, I encourage you all to find one moment of present joy each day, as a reminder of all of the goodness we get to surround ourselves with in life. Thank you!

Charlotte Parsley Thank you Lawson and Mabry for the sweet introduction, y’all mean the world to me. Thank you to everyone in the first few rows for coming to hear me speak and for each of your constant support. Shout out to my Rat, Emmaline. I hope you love your time here as much as I have. And a special thank you to Mom and Dad. Y’all are the reason I am who I am, and I’m so grateful to call you my parents. And happy birthday, Grandaddy! I love you so much. On September 4, 2021, at the sound of a whistle, I stepped up to the starting line to run my first 5K. I was so nervous that my stomach was in knots. The starting gun went off, and I found myself in a stampede of other runners, doing my best to not get trampled. Quickly, my anxiety turned into pain and labored breathing as I settled into the race. With each minute that passed, I wondered why I had subjected myself to this torture. If you had told me four years ago that I would be giving my Chapel Talk about Cross Country, I probably would have laughed in your face. I joined the Cross Country team in the eighth grade, not because I really cared about running, but because I didn’t really know what to do with myself if I wasn’t doing a sport, and I wasn’t coordinated enough for anything else. I used to dread coming to practice each day. I wasn’t in good shape, I couldn’t keep up with most of the girls on the team, it was difficult and painful. I wasn’t one of the top five runners, so I couldn’t score any points for the team that really mattered. I didn’t feel like I contributed anything valuable to the team, and honestly didn’t think that I ever would. But my coaches and teammates saw a potential in me I didn’t see in myself. They encouraged me in each race and practice. They celebrated every personal best with me. They showed me that I could do more than I had ever thought. With every practice and race, I became stronger and more comfortable. I began to look forward to going to practice and actually enjoy running. Now it’s something I want to do, instead of something I feel like I have to do. ​ One month ago, on November 7, I stepped up to the starting line once again. This was my final race, but

instead of anxiety I was filled with determination. This year, I was running fifth on the team, and they were counting on me to finish well. I gave the race everything I had. But as I crossed the finish line and glanced at my time, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of disappointment. I was a few seconds off of my personal record. I had run a good race, but if I had just ran that little bit faster maybe I could have beat my best time. But the second I saw the faces of my teammates and coaches, any bit of disappointment faded away. With big smiles on their faces they told me I had run a great race, that I had done what I needed to do. And surely enough, we ended up getting second in the state championship, even though we had been expected to finish fourth. We may not have won, but it was a moment of pure joy. But the medals and the big trophy weren’t what made this moment so special. It was the love that I have for this team. My teammates are the reason I came to practice each day, even when I felt like there was anything I would rather be doing. They pushed me, they cheered me on, and they became true friends. I look back fondly on each of the moments spent with them. Running through Coolidge park for the 1000th time. Getting piña colada snow cones after practice with Lucie and Holly. Running alongside Mary at state this year. Doing the New York Times Connections with Gilly on every bus ride. Struggling to breathe on long runs because Tessie kept making me laugh. I never would have thought this sport could become so important to me. It began as something to pass the time, a way to stay in shape. But it’s now something I have so much love for, something that I’m sad to have to say goodbye to. It’s never easy to start something new, to take on a new challenge, which is something I definitely experienced with cross country. At first, you may not feel like you belong or that you’re good enough. It’s so easy to look around you and compare your own journey to that of others. But it’s so important to not give up on yourself, to allow yourself to take the time and sit in your discomfort. The best things in life always take time; whether that be sports, academic successes, or even deep, meaningful relationships. If I had given up on Cross Country at the beginning, when I considered quitting many times, I would have missed out on so much. This sport has taught me discipline and consistency, given me friendships that will last a lifetime, and become such a constant in my life. There are so many times in my life that I’ve missed out on something good because I gave up, because I didn’t want to put in the time and effort. Sometimes I wish that I hadn’t quit playing piano. Or that I had taken more art classes. Or put more effort into certain friendships. However, I simply just didn’t have the time to pursue all of these things. The time we have, especially as high school students, feels so limited. But it’s important to make the most of the time we have, to fill your time with things and people that push you to be your best self, even when it’s uncomfortable. It seems that the very most valuable things in life require effort. There is so much growth and enjoyment that can be missed when we are unwilling to step outside of our comfort zone. The seemingly insignificant step of sticking with Cross Country has taught me more than I ever would have imagined four years ago when I stepped nervously to my first starting line. I look forward to my next starting line, wherever and whatever it may be. Thank you!

Hennie Perry Thank you to each of my siblings for introducing me. I love you all even if I don’t say it a lot or at all. I appreciate each one of you even though I rank you on a scale from least favorite to favorite every day and say it to your face. Thank you to all of my guests and people in the first few rows for taking time out of your day to come to hear me speak. Shoutout to my Rat, Meyer. I am so thankful I’ve gotten to know you this year. Enjoy your time here; it truly is a special place. A huge thank you to the senior class for welcoming me in your senior year and making me feel accepted here. Lastly, a huge thank you to both my parents. I would not be here on this stage or at this school without you. Thank you for always listening to me and for always being there for me. Y’all truly are my number one supporters in life, and I’m so grateful you are my parents. As the days grow closer to May, I am constantly reminded that I am about to graduate. Part of me is so eager to start a new chapter in my life while the other part is remembering that I’m going to leave my parents soon. The parents who I’ve lived with forever. I often reminisce on my childhood because of this constant reminder. The days I would spend outside all day making mudpies for my shop, using my imagination to entertain myself, and the times I wasn’t stressing about what college I would go to or having any anxiety or worries at all. Pretty soon, I will be leaving my childhood bedroom behind as I move to a new room in college. I will be leaving the room that saw me grow up. The room that saw me switch from a toddler bed to a big girl bed. The room that saw every stage of my life. Every version of me. Over the years, my room has grown with me. At first, it was a lavender room that had sheep everywhere, as that was my favorite animal. My room watched my parents read me stories and tuck me into bed every night. Then it became a room that had donut accessories everywhere. Donut posters, donut notebooks, donut leggings, shirts, PJs, stuff you wouldn’t even think could be donut patterned was in my room. It was a room that had nail polish and slime stains on the carpet. My room watched as I hid under my covers playing on my DSI hoping my parents wouldn’t catch me. Then it became a room for middle-school me. With grey/blue colored walls, the room watched me do cringy TikTok dances and post at least five times a day. My room watched as I fought with my sister and watched me turn from a child into a preteen. Then my room watched me turn into a moody, hormonal high school teenager. It didn’t know whether to expect that I would come into my room and sit on my bed for hours, procrastinating my homework and watching Netflix, or slam my door as I stormed in, upset and not wanting to talk to anyone. Lastly, my room watched as my sister, who I had shared the room with my whole life, went off to college. It watched as I rearranged my room to fit the new me and watched me learn to cope with being the only one at home. In theory, my room represented me at each point in time, decorated differently through each stage of my life. Thinking about my childhood and growing up has left me with both thankfulness and sadness. I am sad to leave behind the child version of myself, and I am sad that my childhood is heading to a close. But I am so thankful to have had such good memories and reminders of my life that I can look back on and smile and laugh about. If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be to soak up each and every moment. I would tell my elementary school self to enjoy not having a lot of homework, to enjoy trying new sports, and enjoy playing on the playground and getting dirty, and to appreciate not having a phone or social media to distract her. I would tell her to just enjoy playing with Barbies and LEGO for hours for entertainment.

And I would tell her to enjoy being friends with everyone in her class. I would tell my middle school self not to worry about what others think of her because no one is going to remember little details that she is specifically worried about. I would tell her to take in the moments of having all her siblings home because that quickly would change. I would tell her to say yes to any shopping trip her sister wanted to go on and to watch any movie she could with her family. I would also tell my middle school self to not get into so much drama. And tell her that everyone makes mistakes and to forgive friends. I would tell her not to stick to one specific friend group but to make friends with everyone. I would tell her not to beg for a phone so quickly because all they do is take up your time and cause problems. I would tell my ninth-grade self to have fun, go to dances, and do what makes you happy. And I would tell her to soak in those drives where her mom would take her to school because they’ll soon be gone. Even though you can get really easily annoyed by your mom’s questions, realize she just wants to know how her daughter’s day went. I would also tell her to not compare herself to other girls because everyone is beautiful and unique in their own way. I would tell my 10th-grade self to work hard in school and enjoy the freedom and excitement that come when you first get your license. I would tell her to not worry about having a B in a class and that grades do not define her. I would also tell her that it’s not the end of the world when a guy leaves her on delivered and that life moves on. I would tell my 11th-grade self to not put so much academic pressure on herself. Don’t skip out on fun things just because you need to study. Obviously study but also allow yourself to have fun. Enjoy your last year of being a kid. I would tell her to try something new whether it’s a sport or a new class. I would also tell her to not worry about her future because God already has a plan that is bigger and better than any plan she could think of. ​ So if you get anything from my talk, let it be to enjoy being a child while you can. Don’t argue with your friends over little things. Be friends with everyone. Enjoy time with your family because one day you’ll miss it. And enjoy the journey of growing up. Enjoy every stage of life you’re in and try new things while you have the time. And go on that late-night drive. Have as many sleepovers as you can. Don’t worry about not sleeping because you’ll gain your sleep back but you won’t gain those late-night conversations back. Go to the football games and have fun staying out late afterward. Be around people who support and love you and make you confident. Don’t be around people who constantly tear you down. Love yourself and savor the time you have with friends. And the next time someone tells you that high school flies by in the blink of an eye and to enjoy it, don’t just roll your eyes and let it slip your mind because one day you’ll be the one saying that. Thank you!

Gracie Pinkston Thank you, Colman and Edie, for that wonderful introduction. I love y’all so much and I don’t know what I would do without you guys. Thank you to all the people in the first few rows for coming to hear me speak today. I appreciate each and every one of y’all. Also shoutout to my Rat, Anastasia. Cadence and I have loved being your Cat, and I hope your years at GPS will be as great as mine. Core memories are the significant moments in our lives that shape who we are and how we perceive the world around us. These memories can originate from impactful experiences, like childhood events, family traditions, or major life occurrences. They serve as the foundation for our identity, influencing our emotions, decisions, and relationships. Core memories are not just our past but are active components of our present, continually guiding our everyday actions and reactions. Today, I would like to share some of my core memories that have made me into the person I am today. ​ When I describe my childhood, the first thing that comes to mind is change. Early on in my childhood, my life was filled with playing outside for hours after school, playing soccer with my brothers on late

summer nights, and actually being excited and enjoying school. My life was worry-free and everything was perfect. Later on into my childhood, everything in my life started to change. My parents got divorced, and I felt my perfect life slipping and there was nothing I could do about it. On top of this, I had learned that I was going to be attending a new school, GPS. When I first learned that I was going to GPS, I hated the idea. I hated the idea that my life was going to be changing even more. I was leaving behind all my friends that I had known since kindergarten to this whole new school full of people I had never met. Little did I know this change in my life would be one of the best things that had ever happened to me. Although GPS and I have had our ups and downs, GPS has provided me with one of the most important things in my life: my friends. During my time at GPS, I have found the very best people in my life. In middle school and even in high school, GPS was my escape when it felt like things were constantly changing at home. I could forget about everything and just hang out and be with my friends. This school has brought me some of the best memories and the best people I could have ever asked for. While GPS has brought me some of my best memories, it also brought me one of my biggest challenges. This challenge specifically occurred late March into my sophomore year. I had been playing on the lacrosse team, and this specific day we were on schedule to play Baylor. After the last bell rang, we all got on a bus and headed over to Baylor. We started to warm up and, before I knew it, it was time for the game to start. As the game progressed, the score was pretty even, but Baylor was winning. It wasn’t until the last four minutes of the game that tragedy struck. A Baylor player dropped the ball, and I saw my opportunity. I ran to pick up the ground ball, and bam. I instantly fell to the ground in agonizing pain. After enduring this horrific injury, I looked over to the bench to see my coach and the athletic trainer running to my aid. But this is not what stood out to me. I also looked over at one of my teammates, who is a close friend of mine, and saw her laughing hysterically at me not knowing the depth of my tragic accident. And on top of this, it wasn’t even during a varsity game; it was during a JV game. After getting helped off the field, I went to the doctors the next day and learned that I had torn my ACL. After my accident, the constant PT appointments, my inability to play sports, and spending the last month of school in a wheelchair made me feel constantly left out, as I was not able to do normal activities that I used to enjoy. Although this whole process took almost a year of recovery, this injury overall made me a stronger person and helped me foster personal growth. Even though this was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced in my life, I learned skills like resilience, patience, and even confidence. Without this experience I would not have learned these valuable attributes and be where I am today. Exactly one year later after I had recovered from my injury, something very unexpected happened. It was April 2024 and the morning after prom. As I was driving home that beautiful morning, I had no idea what was in store for me. I pulled into my driveway to see my parents’ car gone. I texted my parents, wondering where they were, and it turns out my little brother had a soccer game that morning. So I proceed to go inside to take a shower and then lie down and take a nap after my late night at prom. While I was getting into my bed, I heard banging noises coming from downstairs. This noise scared me as I was home alone, so I did the responsible thing and I called one of my friends to ask them what I should do. When she picked up the phone, I debated going downstairs but they strongly advised me not to. We came to the conclusion that it was my family coming home from Cooper’s soccer game. After ending the call, I fell asleep with no worries in my brain. Two hours later, I hear my dad yelling for me to come downstairs. To my surprise, they had just now come home. This confused me as I thought they got home two hours ago. However, my attention shifted to hearing about Cooper’s game, and I moved on without thinking further about the morning’s unexplained noises. Exactly two weeks later, I came home to security cameras all around my house. I walked in and asked my dad why we suddenly had cameras on every square inch of my house. He informed me that someone a few weeks back broke into our house and stole his macbook while they were gone. As I heard this sentence, my palms began to sweat as I had the sudden realization that I, Gracie Pinkston, had been taking a nap while someone ransacked my house. After this day, I constantly thank God and Bella Hammond that I didn’t walk down those stairs.

Although most of my core memories involve a lot of change in my life, some of my memories bring consistency and help me think about the present instead of worrying about the past and future. Throughout my whole life, traveling to Knoxville to visit my grandparents has been a constant I have always looked forward to. These trips were filled with playing scrabble for hours but inevitably getting beat by my grandmother, convincing my grandfather to let my little brother and me eat ice cream for breakfast, and watching college football games. These memories are one of the only times my family could really get together without any distractions. The reason this is a core memory I cherish deeply is because not only was I spending time with my loved ones, but it reminded me of the importance of family. To me, family is a foundation of love and support and a sense of belonging. These relationships offered me a deep feeling of purpose and an environment where I could just be myself. Without the family around me, I would not be who I am today. Although I don’t say it enough, to my family in the first few rows and those watching at home, I am forever grateful for you, and I appreciate the constant support each and every one of you provide for me. All of you have impacted my life for the better. In conclusion, my core memories, even the challenging ones, have played a crucial role in shaping the person I am today. While some of my experiences have been painful, I’ve learned to look for the silver linings within them. These events have provided me with self-understanding, appreciation for the positives in my life, and the importance of growth in tough times. Embracing both the good and bad has allowed me to develop a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me. As I end this talk, I encourage you to reflect on your core memories and how they have affected you. Thank you.

Katiya Amason Rangno Thank you, Madeline, for the introduction. You’re the best friend that anyone could ask for, you and all of our friends are the lights of my life. And to my parents, thank you for loving me and supporting me. Mom, thank you for dedicating so much to give me the best education I could ask for. I can never repay you for all you’ve done. And Dad, thank you for being a friend to me all these years. Without your unconditional love, I wouldn’t have the confidence to be my truest self. Lastly, I want to shout out my Rat, Cindy Ma, for being so cool. I hope you love your time at GPS and make good friends, take memorable classes, and succeed in every way. What is art to you? Is it a colorful canvas cast upon a wall? A symphony of sound serenading your ears? Written words weaving poetry? Is it something you watch on stage or a screen? Art means something different for every individual person. It can be merely a pastime, a hobby, a career, or their entire life. It’s of my opinion that art is humanity’s greatest achievement. What defines humans from animals is not only our outstanding intellect, but our ability to convey that intellect and the complex emotions that come with it in a manner that not only evokes catharsis, but in a way that reaches out to the observer and touches their heart. For me, art is the cobble that is masoned into the path in which I follow steadfast. Every book and poem I’ve read, every song I’ve listened to and performed, every play, musical, dance, and TV show I’ve watched has taken root in my heart. My lived experiences cause those roots to sprout and blossom, influencing every aspect of my life, including the prose of this Chapel Talk. I think art can manifest as anything that people put their heart and soul into. There is no rigid definition for it because anything can be art if you love it enough. However, one form that I feel is so often overlooked is the art of video games. I realize this is a rather predictable take coming from the captain of the GPS esports team, but I need you to hear me out on this. From a young age, I’ve always loved video games. This love was realized back when I was in third grade when my best friend would take her Nintendo DS to school for indoor recess. The graying skies and pitter-patter of the rain on the classroom

window was a sign that we could snap open the little hand-held console and take turns playing Super Mario 64 DS. Sharing my first experience playing a video game with a friend was something that sparked a little light in my young brain, igniting a love for what would someday become an obsession. I think the very first time I truly realized that video games were not only a source of entertainment, but a form of art, was in fifth grade, when I played the Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. The game conveys a message of hope; that even after calamity, as long as you are alive and hold courage, there will always be a way to live a meaningful life. The game takes place 100 years after the hero of legend, Link, nearly died in a decisive battle to save the kingdom of Hyrule. Being placed in a healing stasis, he awakes to find the kingdom he fought for in complete ruin. Everything he once knew and loved was reduced to rubble, the once brilliantly shining kingdom was now a shadow of what it used to be. And yet, wandering through the ruins in the game, you still can see the survivors and their children living in hope. Despite everything, they’re still hanging on to the dream that one day they won’t live in fear, that one day the darkness will be sealed from the kingdom. The optimistic message behind this game touched me deeply. Video games are not only composed of art, but in of themselves an art form. The character models, environment design, art direction, soundtrack, voice acting and dialogue, are all notes in the symphony that compose this form of art. Just as you would find catharsis in listening to a sad song or laughing along to a comedy, Breath of the Wild took me through the wringer with my emotions. The game ensnared me, and having spent an entire 780 hours playing the game, the themes of hope and courage are ingrained deeply into my psyche. Another way that a video game greatly affected me was the game Bloodborne, a game in which the player finds themselves in the city of Yharnam, a gothic Victorian city known for its miraculous blood ministration practices run by the Healing Church. Playing the game as a hunter, you eliminate the beasts that plague the streets of Yharnam, all in hope to come across the enigmatic Paleblood, the supposed way to “transcend the hunt.” What the hunter doesn’t know is that the beasts aren’t mere monsters from the woods—they’re humans, transformed by the very blood the Healing Church uses. Despite the similar post–disaster conditions of the worldbuilding, Bloodborne is very different from Breath of the Wild. With Lovecraftian beings called Great Ones meddling with the Yharnamites, they had no chance of surviving the beast outbreak. Where I think the art of Bloodborne truly shines is its subtle storytelling. Unlike traditional role-play games, the story isn’t quite in your face. In order to uncover the mysteries behind the beasts and blood, you need to come to your own conclusions. Reading item descriptions and paying special attention to minor NPC dialogue is the only way to get a clear picture of the scope of Bloodborne’s story. Many who play the game don’t look far past the façade of hunting beasts. However, if you look into the themes the game presents, you may realize it’s wholly centered around womanhood. The game is about blood moons driving people mad, stillbirth, and miscarriage, all wrapped up in a gothic horror with a little bow of survival horror adorning the top. Seeing these innate aspects of being born a woman, admittedly, horrified me at first. And yet, at the same time, I felt a terrible sense of envy. I envied the way that these women could be viscerally and revoltingly themselves. It’s not a side of femininity that is often explored in art, making Bloodborne especially stand out to me. Now, I’ll be honest. I have never actually played Bloodborne. It’s a Playstation 4 exclusive, which, mind you, is a 12-year-old console, and despite the game itself being a full 10 years old, it has never been ported to the computer, but hey, c’est la vie. All I know and love about the game was learned through watching playthroughs, video essays, reading hundreds of pages of analysis, and through sheer will and overwhelming obsession. I know nearly everything there is to know about the game. In the modern age, it sometimes feels like the importance of art has been fading out. With AI generated images posing as drawings and paintings, I think now, more than ever, it’s crucial to acknowledge the presence of real human art. I feel like in the act of creating art, the artist learns something new. It may be something small or something life changing, but every time you create something, you are changing not

only yourself, but your viewer as well. The main message that I’m getting at is that you can find inspiration and connections anywhere. If you have the eyes to see it, then you can find art in every aspect of life. For me, art is something that allows me to look inside myself and reflect on who I want to be. By finding a deeper meaning in something that is often regarded as basic entertainment, in Mario 64, I found a connection and a way of strengthening my friendship, in Breath of the Wild, I found optimistic, unyielding hope, and in Bloodborne, I saw a depiction of femininity that I had always felt was missing from my life.

Sadie Reynolds Thank you, Andrew and Audrey, for that wonderful introduction. I love you guys so much and thank you for making my childhood always so fun and interesting. Thank you to all my guests for coming to hear me speak today. You all have played an influential role in my life. Thank you to my parents. Mom and Dad, y’all have stuck with me through thick and thin and never given up on me. I love you so much and I will forever be grateful and take advantage of the life you guys have sacrificed so much to give me. Shout out to my Rat, Nora. You are absolutely brilliant, and I am so excited to see what you accomplish here. I know you are going to do big things and I hope you never stop being your sweet self. Finally, shout out to the diving team I love y’all and good luck to the middle-schoolers competing in champs today! When someone asks me to tell them about myself, the very first thing I think to say is “I have three siblings” because it is a big part of who I am. I am the oldest of three sisters and, although I may not express it every day, I truly love being a big sister. And an important part of that role for me is to be the one who gives them advice. I get to experience things first, and I always try to tell them little bits of guidance that hopefully will make navigating through life a little easier. Especially in middle and high school because we all know that it can be challenging at times. The more I thought about my Chapel Talk and what I wanted to say, I realized that not everyone has that person who can give them “insider information” on what to expect during these next couple of years. I started to think about what I would tell my younger self if I could go back in time. I remember sixth-grade Sadie was full of nervous excitement—and lots of personality. The first thing I would tell her is to not be so worried about embarrassing yourself. Middle school in general is an awkward time for everyone and, no matter what you do, you will always look back on it and cringe. I would say it is important to just have fun because, now that I’m older, I don’t remember most of my embarrassing moments and I definitely can’t remember anyone else’s. Speaking of embarrassing moments, I would also tell sixth-grade Sadie that when you hear a loud alarm ringing throughout the school, do not assume it is a lockdown drill, and do not lock yourself, and Lawson, in the bathroom for 30 minutes. It is, in fact, a fire drill, and the whole school has actually evacuated while faculty members are searching for you in the hallways. Seventh grade was the first time ever that school felt hard. I would tell my seventh-grade self to not get discouraged when classes start to get difficult and your grades aren’t perfect. GPS is built to challenge you as a student. It doesn’t matter what classes your peers take or if everyone seems smarter than you. What matters is that you develop a spirit of determination and don’t just give up when it seems too hard. Success is so much more satisfying when you know you really have to earn it. I would also say to be kind to others. Not just nice or friendly, but truly show kindness. You never know what someone is going through or how much of an impact you can make by doing something as simple as inviting someone to sit with you at lunch. The last thing I would tell seventh-grade Sadie is thank you for not giving up on begging for a dog. The persistent begging for over a year finally paid off and wore my parents down and

we got the perfect addition to our family, a little black lab we named Piper. So for all of you out there thinking, my parents would never say yes to another pet, you just need to persevere and keep asking. Eighth-grade Sadie was in her own world. Recovering from the Covid restrictions and surviving We-Wednesdays. If I could go back in time, I would tell her not to be afraid to try new things. In eighth grade, I tried out for coed cheer and it was terrifying. With little to no prior cheer experience, I was the only middle-schooler trying out for the high school team, but I am so glad I did. Take chances because you never know where it might lead. Being a part of that cheer team was the biggest blessing, and I could not imagine having started high school any other way. Also…I would strongly advise eighth-grade Sadie against taking that bet and eating a dried-up worm you found on the concrete in exchange for a bag of candy. That is disgusting and you will end up feeling too sick to even eat any of the candy. My ninth grade year was filled with a lot of new experiences, both good and bad. I had my first boyfriend and my first breakup. I gained friends and lost friends. But most importantly I gained a new sense of confidence in myself. If I could go back I would tell ninth-grade Sadie to live in the moment and not let what others say about you lessen how you see yourself. Not everyone is going to like you and that is OK. People grow and change and everyone is still learning. The most important opinions are the ones of people you look up to and respect. Also, stop making so many “your mom jokes”… it’s really not as funny as you think it is. Sophomore Sadie spent a lot of her time grounded. But I really don’t think I would have it any other way. I learned a lot of valuable lessons through trial and error. I would tell sophomore Sadie to be more forgiving of herself and others. Holding grudges against people will only do you more harm than good. Building up resentment will take its toll on you and over time it will consume you. It does not make you a bad person to be mad at someone if they have wronged you. However, forgiving and moving on is the only way to get rid of the weight holding you down. I would also tell her she will not be fulfilled by trying to seek validation from anyone other than God. He created me in his image, and I can forever find comfort in that. Another thing I would say is to not be scared of forming friendships with people who have different opinions and views. Some of the relationships I have grown the most from are with people who think very differently than I do. It is so important to be able to discuss “sensitive” topics respectfully in order to widen your perspective. And finally, I would warn her about when you go to the dude ranch on GPS Winterim with zero horse riding experience, and you get assigned a horse named Tornado. He lived up to his name, because Tornado will try to buck you off within the first five minutes of getting on the saddle. I had to get two different “emergency horse changes,” but don’t worry; I ended up with an old horse named Comanche who looked more like a cow than a horse. My junior year I made the difficult decision to quit cheer to pursue other activities, like track and field. I would go back and tell 11th-grade Sadie it is never too late to try new things, even if you are really bad at them. In track and field, I got assigned to run hurdles. Now I can run, and jump, so I thought how hard could it be? Well actually it was very hard, and after face-planting on the track numerous times, I realized maybe it’s just not for me. But with all of that, I am still glad I tried it and didn’t let the embarrassment stop me from having fun. Along with hurdles I also tried pole vaulting. During that experience, I learned the very valuable lesson of being able to laugh at yourself. For example, that one time we had practice at McCallie, I went full speed for a vault and then lost my momentum midway through the air. I fell upside down and landed on the mat folded like an accordion. Not only that but I also landed on a bee which stung my shoulder. To make matters worse, the middle school had just let out for some type of recess so there was an audience of McCallie boys on the football field just watching. Instead of getting embarrassed though, Tessie and I laughed so hard that I’m pretty sure you could hear us around the entire campus. It is hard to give myself advice for senior year when I am living in it. However, I have learned the quote “Comparison is the thief of joy” to be very true. It is so easy to downplay my own success because in my

head, it does not compare to the success of others around me. Instead of being happy for myself and my friends, I was trying not to be jealous. When in actuality I just needed to widen my perspective. Writing all of this has forced me to look back and see just how far I have come. And because of that, I can be proud of myself and of others, too. Everyone’s success looks different and we should all celebrate that and each other in these last few months. Thank you!

McCall Roach Family, Squad, Troop, Corps, Tribe, Crew, Team…. What do all these have in common? These are groups of people who come together to help each other, are there for each other through the hard times, and are there to laugh through the good times. Though I think the most important word in that list is family. You can not choose who is in your family, you are just thrown (or born) into a group of people who are there to love you and help you grow. The Class of 2025 is a family; each of us did not individually choose each other to be in this class, did we choose the people next to us to come to GPS. Whether you are a third-generation GPS girl, your parents didn’t give you a choice, or you wanted to come here, we are here for a reason, and whether we like it or not; we all have an impact on one another. We are a family. The relationships we developed throughout our time here as a class are instrumental to our development as individuals. These can be friendships you have had since sixth grade or friends you have met this year. They both can be equally impactful and important. The thing about friends and family is that friends you choose, and family you don’t. We, the Class of 2025, did not get to choose the 71 girls in this class, yet we chose to be friends. We choose every morning when we walk into the front doors that we are going to be kind and courteous to one another. Sure, it is not alway easy, but we choose to do it. For some of us, we have had seven years to learn to live with one another, but our time is coming to a close. How do we, as a class, take what we have built together with us into our next chapter? All of the memories we have together… From 6th grade, playing tag in the dark hallway and scaring our teachers. I’m not sure why we thought it was a good idea to turn all the lights off in a hall with no windows. Our thoughtful and wonderful ideas nearly gave Mrs. McKenna a heart attack every time she walked back from lunch. We only had one semester of seventh grade in person. The semester of Zoom, we probably made too many funny faces into the camera. In eighth grade, we were only able to talk and interact with our friends six feet apart. Walking across the lawn on the first day of school, freshman year, we met up with all of the girls joining our family to walk into the upper school building. Junior year, all of us were trying to make it through US History collectively, because we first made it through eighth grade inquiry. And now senior year, we are all talking through college decisions and relationships. The conversations our middle school selves probably thought were a lifetime away. Now we only have 19 days until we graduate. Though we have collective memories, we each have our memories and stories. From long runs with the cross country team and bus rides with the lacrosse teams. There are memorable late-night Sonic runs with my friends, where who knows what could happen. These are memories I will never forget and that I will forever cherish.

We are family, so that means a lot of different things. Two things that I think are vital to remember about a family are that you don’t always have to like them, and that you will always have a place to come back to. Just because you are part of a family does not mean that you have to love them and like them 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. I promise you, there have been days that I have walked into these front doors, and the last thing I want to be doing is walking through those front doors. We might not always like each other, but we have each other’s backs. I have full confidence in our class that if any one of us came to another class member with a problem, then we would have her back. We have a support system that we rely on and fall back on. No matter where we go in the country or the world, we, the Class of 2025, are here for each other. This is a place we can come back to. In just a couple of months, the Class of 2025 will become the Class of 2029, and we will go from being a class of 70 to being anywhere from a class of 1,100 to 6,000 people. By taking this mentality of approaching everybody as though we are a family, we can help bring just a little bit of peace and joy to everybody’s day. We can be that smile in someone’s day that needs cheering up. Or we can hold the door for the person who needs it. We will be able to take the lessons and family that Island Ave. has given us and take it with us. We will also always have a place and family to come back to if we need it. Though our families are not always the prettiest, they are ours. Hold on to them. They shape us and make us who we are. We will need that in 19 days—not just 19 school days, but 19 days. We, as the Class of 2025, have 19 cherished days left at a place that is not just a school. A place that shaped us into the young women we are today. The young women who love fiercely and unapologetically. Who will always want to help you if you need it, and be a shoulder to lean on or cry on. These people made us who we are and showed us who our people are. So I encourage everyone in the room today, whether you are in sixth grade or think you have life figured out, find your people. Find the people who make you smile, make you laugh, who will be there when you need to cry, who will help you through the hard times, and most importantly, make you happy. So find your people. Thank y’all!

Layla Robinson A Flame Thank you so much to Memphis for that amazing introduction. I love you more than words can describe. I´d like to give a huge thank you to all my guests for coming today. You all have impacted my life in more ways than you will ever know, I love you all. Extremely honorable mention to my Baba and Mama, words cannot describe how grateful I am to have both of you in my life. Shoutout to my Rat Ansleigh, I hope your years at GPS are as memorable as mine. The world has never made sense to me. Emotions and relationships are confusing, especially when the challenge of deciphering someone’s emotions and thoughts comes into play. I grew up in an environment where things didn’t always make sense. From a young age, I struggled to read the faces and feelings of people around me. There were moments when I would watch an argument unfold, feeling completely lost, and not understanding the anger in the room. I saw the face of an angry man, his rage boiling over. I saw my mom, small and fragile, standing there. And I would wonder, “What

is it that makes someone so angry? What is it that makes people hurt each other like this?” Questions like these began to occupy my thoughts until they would all overflow. As a child, I learned to escape. I would retreat into my own world, pretending like everything around me was just a game. I told myself I wasn’t really living this life, this life where arguments, isolation, and fear felt like the only reality I knew. I would lose myself in after-school activities, staying away from home as much as I could, so I wouldn’t have to face the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a space where I didn’t belong. But despite my escape, I still felt deeply connected to my surroundings. There was one constant thing that I clung to, and that was my bed. That may sound strange, but my bed was the one place where I felt safe. No matter what happened in the world around me, I could always crawl into my bed and find a small bit of peace, a tiny bit of warmth in an otherwise cold and chaotic world. But even that security felt threatened at times, especially when faced with the despicable truth of ever-changing reality. I loved my mom, deeply, and that love made me strong. No matter how bad things got at home, I couldn’t bring myself to fall weak in the eyes of danger. I saw her pain, and even though I was just a kid, I knew I had to protect her, even if I didn’t know how. I loved my sister, too, more than I loved myself. I watched her grow up in that same painful world, and I couldn’t understand how we would all survive it. But somehow, we did. There were nights, many nights, when I would sit beside my mom, watching the chaos unfold in front of us. Sometimes, we’d go out and lie in the wet grass, looking up at the stars, just trying to escape from the madness. Other times, there would be arguments, loud, painful, destructive arguments. I would cry silently, trying to make myself disappear, because I didn’t want to make things worse. I learned, at a very young age, to cry in silence. It was the only way to protect myself from the storm that always seemed to be coming. But even in that silence, I felt a constant pressure. The pressure to be strong, the pressure to protect my mom, to protect my sister, even though I wasn’t sure how to protect myself. There were moments when I was the one who had to face the brute, who had to shield others from the violence and anger because I thought that if I suffered, maybe they wouldn’t have to. I thought that my pain might somehow save them from theirs. But in the end, I realized that the pain doesn’t work that way. Putting ourselves in harm’s way doesn’t stop others from hurting; it will only hurt them more. When I think back to those days, I wonder how I didn’t snap. How did I hold on to my sanity, my sense of self, through all of that pain? The truth is, I wasn’t always sure who I was. Was I just like the floors in my house, absorbing all the anger and hatred around me? Was I just like the walls, absorbing every dignifying swing? Was that my purpose? To be a punching bag for the world? It felt like that sometimes. But I learned something important as I grew older: I am not the pain I’ve experienced. I am not the anger and hurt I’ve absorbed. I am more than that. In all of that darkness, I found one thing that gave me hope. It wasn’t anything big or grand; it was a small flame, a light in the middle of everything. I began to take care of that flame. I protected it with everything I had. It became my light, my reason to keep going. But as it grew, I also began to envy it. I wanted to be like that flame, strong, powerful, and safe. I wanted to be something that couldn’t be hurt, something that could stand tall in the face of all the chaos. But over time, I realized that I didn’t need to be the flame. I needed to be me, weak, imperfect, but still standing. And that, in itself, was enough. There were times, in the middle of all the distorted faces of those around me, the arguments, the chaos, when I would wonder if anyone cared. I couldn’t read their faces, their voices. I didn’t know if they liked

me, if they hated me, if they even saw me. I tried to make sense of it all, but sometimes the confusion was overwhelming. How could I possibly know what they felt when I didn’t even understand my own feelings? But now, I understand something. I understand that you don’t have to have everything figured out. You don’t have to read everyone’s emotions perfectly. What matters is that you are true to yourself and don’t lose yourself in the current of life. People may not always show you their true feelings, and sometimes, that’s OK. What matters most is how you feel about yourself. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just keep moving forward, keep being kind, and keep growing. To all of you, especially the young girls here today, I want you to remember this: No matter what happens in life, no matter what hardships you face or what people try to make you believe about yourself, you are not alone. You are not your circumstances, and you are not the pain you’ve experienced. You are strong. You are capable. And you have the power to change your life. Take care of your flame. Protect it. Let it grow. But never forget that you are enough just as you are. Remember, just keep being OK. You’ll make it. Thank you!

Katie Rutledge To my mom and my dad, thank you so much for all you’ve done for me in the past 17 years. Your endless support and patience has truly helped shape me into the young woman I am today. Chuck, thank you for being the best bonus dad a girl could ask for. I know we had a rocky start, but I’m so appreciative of everything you’ve done for me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love all three of you so much, and I’m eternally grateful for you. Change is often perceived as an unpredictable and inconsistent force in our lives, something that many people fear and resist. However, change is actually one of the few things in life we can truly rely on. Change is inevitable, meaning that it is going to affect everyone at some point in their lives but, depending how you respond to that change, it can be an easy or difficult transition. While I know the initial stages of change can seem daunting and negative, embracing change, rather than resisting it, often leads to unforeseen opportunities and positive outcomes. In my experience, accepting change has been key to my personal development, pushing me to adapt, learn, and evolve. Each transition, though challenging, has contributed to a broader understanding of myself and the world around me. Therefore, while change may initially seem disruptive, it is essential for progress.

Throughout the entirety of my freshman year and first semester of my sophomore year, I struggled to adapt to the responsibilities and expectations of being a high-schooler. The transition felt overwhelming, and my resistance to these changes soon became evident. In middle school, I would say my courses were relatively laid back. I was often completing assignments at the last minute and relying on a basic understanding of the material to get by. This attitude, however, did not translate well into high school, where the stakes were considerably higher. I was the girl resisting change. I was uninterested in learning, and I was struggling to stay engaged in class. My lack of motivation was another issue. I had poor study habits and frequently blew off completing my homework to do things like scroll on my phone or watch TV shows. Not only did I disregard my school work, but I also chose to ignore many GPS school rules, which if you’re wondering came with MANY consequences. One of my favorite rules to break was related to the school uniform policy. I enjoyed “personalizing” my uniform by adding my own sweatshirt or jacket, and often I would skip wearing the uniform shirt altogether, opting instead for hoodies so no one would be able to tell. Unfortunately I was caught multiple times and suffered many work sessions because of this. After almost three semesters of constantly being grounded, being forced to use a flip phone, and spending almost all of my weekend nights inside my house with my parents, I decided it was time to stop resisting change and start trying to change my attitude for the better. To thrive academically and socially, I knew I needed to adhere to the expectations of high school to the best of my abilities. Second semester of my sophomore year, I worked really hard to grow my study habits, turn in my assignments on time, and even respect the school rules. I slowly began to understand that “personalizing” my uniform and breaking other rules were pointless and really just distracted me from the more important goal of achieving academic success. One teacher who played a crucial role in helping me turn things around was Mrs. Pieritz. Even though Mrs. Pieritz was often the one giving me these uniform violations and catching my attitudes, she never gave up on helping me. She saw potential in me and believed I could be an excellent student. Mrs. Pieritz’s unwavering support throughout my freshman and sophomore years made a significant impact on not only my high school experience but also the student I’ve become. Without her guidance, there’s a good chance making these changes would have taken me a lot longer and would probably have been considerably more difficult. Looking back, as a senior now, I regret not applying myself earlier. In fact, the years I didn’t put in the effort were surprisingly the most difficult. I now see that a proactive approach from the start would have made a significant difference in my overall experience. By dedicating myself fully during my junior year, I finally started to see the benefits of consistent effort. With this new mindset, I tried to go through each day with enthusiasm and commitment towards bettering myself in and outside of school. I made it a priority to turn my assignments on time, follow school rules, and focus on studying. To my surprise, this shift in attitude made junior year the most enjoyable and fulfilling year of high school yet. In my junior year, I truly found myself. For the first time, I discovered my favorite subjects, which allowed me to experience genuine interest and passion for learning. I also realized that my happiness could be tied to my academics in a positive way. Most importantly, I learned what it meant to be genuinely happy. Embracing a positive mindset in school led me to find the satisfaction I had previously missed. Going into my senior year with this knowledge, I am more excited than ever. While I know not everyone will experience the same academic changes as I did, everyone will experience some sort of change in their life. Whether it’s making new friends, exploring new opportunities, or heading off to college in the next few months, change will come and you should embrace it. Thank you!

Millie Sharplin Thank you, Sophie and Addie, for that super sweet introduction. I love y’all more than you know, and I am forever grateful for the memories we’ve made these past few years. Thank you to my parents for giving me the opportunity to attend GPS. I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you both so much. I want to give another big thank you to the people sitting in the first few rows for taking time out of their days to come and hear me speak. I’m so grateful for each and every one of you, and you’ve all made me the person I am today. Shoutout to my amazing Rat, Presley. I couldn’t have asked for a better Rat, and I’m so thankful for the bond we’ve created this past year. Lastly, shoutout PPG. I couldn’t have survived these last few years of high school without y’all, and I’m forever grateful that swimming brought us together. As I stood beneath the pool deck, I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. The atmosphere around me felt electric, and a sense of anticipation took over me. My competitors’ music played in the background, adding to my already prominent nerves. I had performed routines in front of crowds countless times before this moment, but never on my own, let alone in a different country. The crowd’s murmurs and cheers started to get louder as I prepared to walk out. I stood at the edge of the pool, feeling the cold tiles beneath my feet. The announcer called my name, and suddenly everything went quiet. My music began to play, and I let the familiar rhythm guide me. I was no longer nervous, but eager to have a good performance. As I held my ending position, a massive wave of relief came over me as the crowd cheered. The routine itself was a blur, but the moments following are ones I still remember today. I exited the pool and waited for the judges to grade my performance, smiling at Coach Makayla who stood beside me. For those of you who might be wondering what in the world I’m talking about, and maybe asking yourselves, “I thought she was a swimmer? What routine is she talking about?” I’ll explain. To give you a better picture of what I’m speaking about, the year was 2020 and I was a synchronized swimmer, and the moment I’m referring to is my performance from the New Zealand nationals held at the time. Once the Covid-19 pandemic had hit the United States, whispers of moving took over my household. My parents were craving an escape from the pandemic’s chaos, contemplating whether we should stay with family outside of the U.S. for a small break. At the time, my dad’s home country of New Zealand was fully Covid-free. My dad had multiple opportunities for work there, while also getting to teach me, my mom, and my brother about the New Zealand culture and give us a glimpse into his childhood if we were to visit. In October of 2020, my parents had decided we would live in New Zealand for three months. During our travels, we would have two different quarantines. One for two weeks prior to the trip, and another after arriving. The second quarantine required me and my family to live in a quarantine camp for another two weeks, only being allowed outside for one hour a day and food being delivered to our door three times a day. Although it was going to be a long process, my parents couldn’t pass up this opportunity for my family. As I had been a competitive synchronized swimmer for three years prior, I made the impulsive decision to compete at the New Zealand nationals that January. I trained with a small team in Christchurch, New Zealand, a couple of times a week to prepare, and after putting together and perfecting a solo in two months, I was able to compete and win second place overall. Outside of competing, my family’s temporary move to New Zealand was everything I could have asked for. I got to learn about my family history, experience a new culture, and try things I never would have done if I stayed in America. We stayed with my grandparents for certain periods of the trip, and these moments spent with them are ones I still cherish today. Returning to America in February of 2021 was a hard pill to swallow. Although I was happy to reconnect with my friends, I dreaded coming back to the “real world” again. After not having a set routine for months, and getting used to doing different and exciting things each day, returning to my small town of Atkinson, New Hampshire, wasn’t a very thrilling idea to me. Although I was hesitant to go back, my first

few months in New Hampshire were surprisingly easy to adjust to. I was back in in-person school, and doing sports regularly just as before. I was reunited with my best friends, getting to tell them all about my time in New Zealand. However, just when it felt like I had fully adapted to life back at home again, another curveball was thrown at me. Around two months after arriving in New Hampshire, my parents told me and my brother that we were moving again. This time it was permanent, and our future home was not anything like New Zealand. We were headed to Rock Spring, Georgia! At the time, my 14-year-old self was devastated, and even more devastated when I found out I had to go to an all-girls school. As I began my freshman year at GPS, I was severely humbled academically and also came to the realization that I had zero clue how to make friends. Considering I had gone to public school with the same exact people my entire life, I’d say I was pretty rusty in both of those departments. My first year in the South had a recurring theme of insecurity. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing and embarrassing myself. As the years went on, however, I gained my bestest friends for life,and a sisterhood I couldn’t have ever dreamed of. Like any new chapter in life, I just had to adjust and be patient. Unfortunately, 14-year-old Millie didn’t know that at the time, which caused her to spiral a lot. Adaptability was not a word that truly resonated with me before these experiences. I had grown up in the same tiny hometown for the first 13 years of my life, with zero question I would ever move. If there’s anything you can take away from this Talk, however, it’s that life moves in crazy ways sometimes. Although these experiences were unexpected, I am so thankful to have lived through them, especially during my teenage years. I have learned so many lessons, life skills, and things about myself that I would have never explored if I hadn’t moved. Adapting to different environments is the most important skill I have gained these past few years. This has been a crucial life skill I’ve needed to obtain in all of these circumstances, and I think it will especially come in handy when I enter adulthood. Although these new places seemed terrifying at first, learning to accept the situation I was in and embracing all of the new things around me allowed me to grow in ways I never expected. Change is inevitable, and while it can be daunting, it often brings opportunities that shape us into who we are meant to be. Looking back, I wouldn’t trade these experiences for anything, because they have given me resilience, independence, and a greater appreciation for the world around me. As I move on to the next chapter of my life, I will carry these lessons with me, embracing change rather than fearing it. So, to anyone facing uncertainty, whether it’s going to college in a few months, a big move, or any unexpected challenge, trust that you will find your way; I speak from experience. Thank you!

Gilly Shumate Thank you, Cy and Wylie, for introducing me. I could not ask for better brothers. To my parents, thank you for being my role models, mentors, and friends. Your consistent support and encouragement means so much to me. Thank you to my guest for coming to hear me speak today. And shout out to my Rat Savannah. I feel so lucky to have gotten to know you better this year, and I can’t wait to see the ways you flourish here at GPS. Snow was everywhere. On the trees, covering the valley, and giving a little white hat to the lamppost nearby. There was a numbing wind that blew through the trees causing the evergreen branches to sway back and forth. I felt nervous as I was unfamiliar with this place and kept looking for unknown danger nearby. But I was comforted knowing the children were all together this time. I studied them closely, feeling protective over them after everything they had been through. I followed them as they shuffled hurriedly towards a small cabin nestled into the bank of snow. It was a long walk, but their large fur coats kept them warm. The youngest, Luci, blabbered the whole way. You couldn’t help but love Luci—so innocent and always looking out for the smallest of creatures. As they approached the cabin, I admired its

quaintness. It was the epitome of coziness with its warm wooden siding and circular windows. The house was owned by Mr. Tumnas, and it was perfect for him because he was always so welcoming and kind when Luci needed it most. I was surprised to find that no smoke billowed from the chimney and the golden glow that typically showed through the window was dark. The children entered anyway, expecting a warm home and the happy smile Mr. Tumnus always carried. I was shocked to find the furniture was strewn across the room and the home ransacked. As the children ran about the room in terror and disbelief, I heard a distant voice calling my name. Frustrated to be bothered at such a pivotal moment, I moved closer to the children. They were huddled around a note. Written in scrawny writing was an official document that Mr. Tumnas had been taken away on charges of treason. The voice came again louder and more abrupt this time. I looked up from my book leaving the snowy scene behind. I saw my father standing above me. He had asked me to load the dishes in the dishwasher minutes before, but I had been too wrapped up in my book to notice. Now I set my book aside and attended to the task. I don’t know about you but when I’m caught in the middle of a good book, TV show, or movie, often it can feel like the whole world has stopped and you are in the moment with the character. I can easily forget everything about the world around me when absorbed in a good story. I think we, as people, get so invested in our favorite characters’ lives that we will defend them more passionately than most subjects actually relevant to our real lives. I could stay up all night finishing a movie or good book because I care so much about the characters. I have to know that their problems are solved before I can sleep. Furthermore, exploring the worlds of my favorite characters allows me to escape from the pressures and stresses of my own life. Fixating on another person’s life allows me to stop worrying about my own. I am able to relate to the joy, pain and stress of the character without having to address the reality of these things in my own life. I am sure each and every person in this room feels some sort of stress right now. There are so many expectations placed upon us and even more that we place upon ourselves. Sometimes it seems impossible not to feel stressed, which is why entertainment can be so addicting. We long for an escape outside our circumstances, looking for a quick distraction instead of actually doing things to fix our problems. As a leader on my cross country and track team, I put an overwhelming amount of stress on myself to place where I feel like my team needs me to. I feel I have not succeeded unless I am confident that my team and coaches are satisfied with my result. Sometimes my anxiousness before meets becomes so overpowering that I cannot enjoy time with my team or mentally prepare myself for the race ahead. The expectations that I place on myself can interfere with the joy I typically feel from being with my team. Sadly these expectations affect far more than just running. I also put a lot of pressure on myself in the classroom. There is no paper, project, or assignment that does not feel significant, and I always think that everything has to be done well. Whether it’s being a good daughter, sister, leader, athlete, or friend, there are so many roles that come with expectations. And for me, I sometimes feel that I need to be all of these roles perfectly all at once. These expectations and societal pressures often make facing the reality of our circumstances difficult. I want to avoid my circumstances for as long as possible so movies, books, and other forms of distraction are nice temporarily, but they don’t actually fix anything. Something that has helped me combat these stressors is surrounding myself with people I look up to and who support me. Having people in my corner when I feel overwhelmed who can give me wisdom during difficult moments is imperative to my happiness. Whether it was my dad sitting with me for hours as I was stressed about college decisions or my mom grabbing me something from the store because I did not have time to get it on my way home, I have relied on my people countless times for help and they have always been there for me. I challenge you if you have not found these people yet to seek them out because hard times feel much more bearable when you have people to walk through them with you.

Another way I have learned to combat avoiding the problems in my life is by changing my mindset. Often when I am worried about an upcoming challenge, I focus on all the negative aspects of it. For example, if I have a big math test coming up, I might complain about the hard material or what would happen to me if my grade dropped. But a simple switch in perspective can make the task seem much less daunting. By focusing on the fact that we have teachers willing to help us understand and allotted time in our schedule to receive extra help provides so much relief. Knowing I have done well on tests in the past, so failing is probably not likely, also helps. It might seem silly, but focusing on the things that you do have control over is a great way to ground yourself instead of getting caught up in the scary whirlwind of ‘what if’ thoughts. Choosing gratitude instead of fear helps me realize that the things out of my control are so much smaller than I realized. It is so important to choose a mindset of gratitude and to remember to thank those around us because by doing this you bring joy to yourself as well. But in my opinion, the only way to truly separate myself from my stresses and fear in expectations is a relationship with the one who is always in control. True peace and comfort is hard to find when I am tied to my circumstances, which is why I need a rescuer outside of my circumstances. I believe that can only be found through Jesus Christ. Proverbs 3:5-6 says “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding in all your ways, acknowledge him and he will make straight your paths.” This verse is so reassuring because no matter the circumstance, harsh reality, or scary expectation, I know that if I put my faith in the Lord, he will stand by me and protect me. There is no where I can go or anyone I can become where his love for me will not follow. It is not conditional or flaky but steadfast and abounding. The best part is that everyone gets an invitation to this type of protection by having a relationship with him. Whether you choose to accept this or not, I challenge you when in fear to surround yourselves with those who will uplift you and have a perspective of gratitude. At the beginning of this talk I described a scene from the book The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I mentioned the snowy land of Narnia and the little children exploring it. Many people associate the name Narnia as an escape or place of comfort and peace. And after a crazy tale of danger and heroics, the children were able to find their version of it. First, if you have not read the book The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis, go read it. I highly recommend it. But more importantly, as you leave here to today, my hope is that each of you creates your own Narnia by surrounding yourself with those who love you, having a mindset of gratitude, and if you choose it, trusting in a relationship with the one who possesses a perfect Narnia. Thank you!

Layan Siyam Thank you, Laila and Lena, for those amazing introductions. I’m forever grateful that I have you as my sisters; you are both constant lights in my life. I’d also like to thank my parents for everything they have sacrificed for me to be here and for being my biggest support system. I’m forever grateful. I’d also like to thank the people in the first few rows who took time out of their day to come hear me speak. I truly appreciate all of you. And finally shout out to my Rat, Sylvie. You truly are the sweetest, and Anna and I are so thankful that we get to be your Cats. Identity is subjective. It can be shaped by origins, physical characteristics, or even interests, but regardless of the definition it is evident that everyone is unique. As a 17 year old Egyptian American, my identity is complex and distinctive to me. However, I believe identity is much more than these mere descriptions. I think that identity and acceptance go hand in hand.

I’ve only recently embraced my individuality. Being an Egyptian in the South has always been something I’ve struggled with accepting, not because I’m ashamed of who I am, but rather because I was afraid of others’ opinions. I wanted to escape the jokes and stereotypes. But in an attempt to protect myself, I allowed these stereotypes to isolate me from peers. From a young age, I made it a goal of mine to get rid of any physical distinctions that could separate me. This began with treatments to get rid of my curls, but what started off as a simple change to fit in, grew into a deeper disassociation with language and my background. I began avoiding speaking Arabic, which led to displeasure and annoyance even when spoken at home. I would avoid conversations about Egypt and my family and held resentment for being given a name that some found unique or difficult to pronounce. Speaking on the phone in Arabic was something I did in secret to avoid questions from peers. I was living a double life. I wanted to blend in, mold myself into someone I was not. Changing my appearance, my accent, and not correcting those who mispronounce my name was the best I could do to change and prevent any unnecessary attention drawn to me. I was trying to deceive those around me, attempting to lose the labels that followed me. Coming to GPS in the sixth grade was something that caused me a great amount of stress and was hard in the sense that regardless of by whom, I made it my mission to be liked and to fit in. This overwhelmed me at times, but I felt it was necessary. It was a new school, a new environment, and people who didn’t know me. It was an opportunity for me to start fresh and shed my identity. And from this, a pattern was created in my life: I became a follower. It wasn’t until I got to high school I realized I had built a persona that wasn’t truly mine. The transition from middle to high school is a critical time. During this transition, my friendships drifted and connections weakened.The people and routine I had become so comfortable with was changing. Experiencing this left me in a vulnerable state. I wasn’t sure who I was, or how I was going to make it another four years under these different circumstances. This took a toll on me as I am not someone who easily embraces change. I had enjoyed my routine, and the comfort of knowing I had people around me. It wasn’t until this time I spent alone, feeling lost, and unsure of who I was that I had realized all these years prior I had become a product of the people I believed I needed to be. But regardless of what I was doing to fit in, I couldn’t deceive myself and forget who I truly was, my morals, my language, and my individuality. My parents moved to America from Cairo in 2005, as expatriates, but also to provide my siblings and me with opportunity, with the determination to keep our cultural and religious roots alive despite the challenges of living in the South. Like many Egyptian Muslims, Islam is a big part of who we are. Religion shapes us, our beliefs, perspectives, and gives us a clear path in life. My parents have always been my source of guidance, because there are few Muslims in my life outside of my family. Growing up in predominantly Christian environments, I’ve always felt imposter syndrome. Everyone had their communities, common faith, ideas, and morals except for me. And with this, came doubt and a weakening connection to God. At times I found myself lost, with no path to follow, and my morals weakening. In this struggle, I became angry—at myself, those around me, and the South in general. I was filled with resentment and took it out on those around me, but despite my hastiness and attitude, my family continued to be a strong foundation willing to support and help me. The type of resentment I was feeling was internal and was a personal battle that needed to be resolved within, so with time, and the conscious decision to better myself, I realized that in order to move forward, my perspective needed to change.

I decided to stop blaming those around me and began taking accountability. The blame was on me and only I could fix this. I don’t blame the South for my doubt. In fact, I am thankful I grew up here because it showed me the way back to what I believe in. As I’ve grown, I’ve become more comfortable with who I am and where I’m from. In living here, I’ve learned to embrace my differences. Rather than being ashamed of being a part of the minority, it’s something I now value; it’s something that makes me unique. In the end, I believe it all comes down to community. Who you choose to surround yourself with is a big part of accepting who you are. Finding those who make you feel seen, and accept you as you are, is imperative for self acceptance. For me, despite my struggle in finding my people in the beginning, high school was where I found those closest to me and where my journey of acceptance began. My friends and the connections I’ve built were ultimately the reasons why I feel at peace with being myself. Alienation is no longer something I am forced to accept. Being the only Egyptian in a room no longer nauseates me, rather I now embrace it. I’m proud of the fact that we have a language I am fortunate enough to speak. I embrace my curls, I correct those that mispronounce my name, and I don’t avoid speaking about being Egyptian. The person I am now is thanks to my upbringing in the South. And while I believe one’s environment does not necessarily define them; with guidance it can shape you into a better version of yourself and help you embrace your individuality. I encourage you to find those who make you feel seen, go out of your comfort zone, and strengthen those connections. Comparison is the thief of joy, and if you continue to compare yourself to those around you, you will never find happiness and comfort in what truly matters, so never be ashamed of the qualities that make you unique. Thank you.

Josie Stribling Thank you Strib, Demi, and Win for introducing me. And thank you to all my guests for being here. You all have filled my life in so many ways, I don’t know who I’d be without y’all. Shout out to my Rat, Anna Miller. You make me smile everytime I see you, and I am so excited for you beginning your GPS journey. You’re gonna love it here. Today I am going to be talking about my journey to finding security in who I am and the love that has continually been poured into my life that has made me into who I am. I know a lot of people struggle with finding where you belong, and when I was going through it, I felt pretty alone, so one of my goals here today is to make sure you know you are not alone. As y’all can tell from my introduction, I have three incredible siblings. Growing up, I found comfort and security in being specifically in the older two’s shadows. Partly because I didn’t know anything else, and also because I really don’t enjoy being the center of attention. They truly are wonderful examples of how to do life right in this world, and I have always looked up to them for that and so much more. Sophomore year was the first year they were both away from home, they had left for college consecutive years, and all of a sudden I no longer had the shadow over me like I used to. I didn’t know who I was without it, so that’s really when I realized I had lost my prior identity, and it was an extremely uncomfortable feeling. During this time, I felt like I knew whose I was, but not who I was. Growing up in a Christian household built within me was a security of being God’s beloved child and not the world’s. This always reassured me and gave me a safe feeling that is hard to put into words. But as I got older, I have caved into some of the lies and worldly pressures around me that tell me I need to always show the perfect me and not the broken me. In my childlike heart, I wonder why I have begun performing for the world’s affection, and

not my heavenly Father’s. Even still, I keep listening to the opinions around me and begin to build within me deep doubts that I am not good enough, not worthy enough. It got to the point where I would look in the mirror and just want to fold over and cry because the voice seemed so loud inside my head that all I recognized was a broken, lost, unrecognizable person, unworthy to even be looked at. Whenever someone would give me any kind of compliment, my reflex became telling myself the opposite and that they were just saying that to be nice. Eventually that voice began to drown out the others, and I started to wholeheartedly believe it. This was largely due to the fact that I didn’t want to base my identity off of what others thought of me. It seemed fleeting, and I wanted to find it and see it for myself. I was convinced that being looked at or talked to was disgraceful to myself and to the people around me because my self worth was so low, that I practically exalted everyone around me on a pedestal. I thought that they could do no wrong, yet every breath of mine was a disturbance. One of my greatest fears then and still now is to be an unnecessary burden, so I made myself as small and self-reliant as I could. I hunkered down, waiting for this storm to pass. During this time I would read my Bible, yet it felt like my heart wasn’t listening. I became desperate for the kind, gentle voice I used to hear, which told me that no matter who I was, I was beloved, fearfully and wonderfully made, and nothing could stand in the way of that. But I wasn’t patient enough to take time to relearn the sound of that voice, because the other half of me still valued and soaked up everything the world offered. Earlier when I said I lost my prior identity, I ran as fast as I could to the shadow that it seemed everyone else was under. The shadow of the world. The thing I learned from this was that it didn’t, and never would, fill the needs of my heart. As you can clearly see through my story here, I was scrambling to stand on something solid, yet the words, and truths that came from the world were shaky, and always changing which kept me in a constant state of looking for something more. This reminded me of something I had read that states,”Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again.” That is from the book of John, chapter 4, verse 13. The more I reflected on these readings, the clearer I was able to see the ceaseless mercy and grace selflessly given to me and I have found a light through which my heart is overflowing. It is my solid ground, where I can rest securely. The same verse goes on to say, “But, whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst.” I no longer get caught up in worldly opinions or worry about storms that may come because I know that where I stand will not be shaken. Now going back to the beginning again, when I said I feel like I know whose I am but not who I am; I was clouded by the world’s view that those two things are separate, but they are not. Being God’s child is who I am. And I can’t ever say a more reassuring and comforting sentence in my entire life. Knowing that my identity and worth sits in the fact of being God’s child gives me a confidence that would be shredded if it was from the world, the endurance that gets me through every day, and real rest for my soul when it gets weary. Galatians 2:20 states, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” To me this verse means that I am no longer defined by the sin in this world and led by its desires, but by Christ Jesus who died for me because he loves me. I live for him because he lived and died for me. It’s hard for me to tell this story; at first I was pretty embarrassed about it because I have been given a life overflowing with blessings. I have been given a steadfast, loving, and supportive family, true, loyal friends, and a Love that will not let me go. So if all of that is so incredibly amazing, why did I then, and still do, struggle? Well life was never meant to be easy, even for people who seem to have the perfect setup. People who seemingly have the perfect life judging by what you see at school or their Instagram, they all still have their own issues and inner struggles. If you feel alone in a crowded room, you’re not the

only one that feels like that. So have comfort in knowing that no matter what you are struggling with, you never were or ever will be alone. Thank you!

Addison Stuckey Thank you, Morgan, for introducing me; you are the best sister I could ask for and I love you so much even though I don’t show it. Thank you to my parents for shaping me into who I am today and never failing to provide me with endless opportunities. I love you both so much. Lastly, shoutout to my Rat, Meyer. Make sure to cherish every moment you have because time will move faster than you think. Faith. If I had to choose one word that defines who I am, it would be this one. But faith is more than just a word; it’s a journey, a bond, and a promise. It’s a connection I share with my family, my community, and something much bigger than myself. Let me take you back to where it all began for me—on Lookout Mountain, in a small house on Cinderella Road. It’s where I spent most of my childhood, and it’s also where I first realized the importance of faith and connection. Family has always been at the center of my life, but everything changed in early April 2019 when my parents got divorced. I remember being devastated, wondering why God would let me go through something so painful. At the time, I didn’t have the answers. I remember lying in my room, thinking about how my life was about to change—moving between my mom’s house and my dad’s. It was a hard transition, but I was lucky that my parents lived close to one another and I wasn’t by myself; I had my sister with me going through the same things. We were able to grow closer during this time and bonded over a shared hard experience. Although I had my sister at home, when I came back to school, I was still confused, searching for someone who might understand what I was going through. And God, in his way, placed friends in my life who had experienced the same thing. Moving between two homes wasn’t ideal, but it turned out to be the best thing for my family. As a sixth-grader, it felt like my world was falling apart, but over time, I realized that this experience gave me something precious—the opportunity to strengthen my relationships, not just with my family, but with God. Through the challenges, I discovered that faith was my anchor, and it became the foundation for the connections I was building. It was through these connections that my walk with God truly began. I had always been around church, but now it felt different. I started attending a new church, Calvary Chapel, and I immediately felt at home. The people, the community, and the services all brought me closer to God, and I found myself surrounded by a tightly knit community of faith. My youth group became a place in my life where I felt comfortable and where I could be myself and expand in greater ways through my faith. The love and support I have received from the people at my church inspires me to show and lead others to this great love I have been shown.

In the summer of 2021, I made a decision that would mark a turning point in my life. I wanted to get baptized. My mom and I were visiting my grandmother in Franklin when I finally worked up the courage to tell her. She was so excited, but there was something even more special— she wanted to get baptized with me. That moment was powerful because it wasn’t just about me. It was about connection— connection to my family, connection to my faith, and connection to a community that supports and uplifts me. You see, faith, for me, isn’t about following a set of rules or trying to be perfect. Sometimes when people think about religion, they think about it as a set of rules that needs to be followed. And I used to see it that way, too. So it seemed intimidating and unattainable. But I think it’s about relationships. It’s about having a relationship with God in which I don’t have to be anybody other than exactly who I am. I know that God is going to love me and meet me where I am. This doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want, but because God loves me, I am more inclined to love others. But most importantly it’s about love, support, and the strength that comes from knowing you’re not alone. On the day of our baptisms, my mom and I got matching necklaces with a cross at the center. Now a small gold chain with a cross is wrapped around my neck, symbolizing so much more than just a piece of jewelry. It represents a new life—a life dedicated to faith and to walking this journey with my mom by my side. Every time I look at this necklace, I’m reminded of that moment when my mom and I locked arms and gave our lives to Jesus. It’s a memory I cling to, especially on days when life feels overwhelming. This necklace is a symbol of my walk in faith, a reminder of the journey I’m on and the connections that have shaped me. And now, my sister also wears this same necklace. She decided to get baptized just a few months later. We all walk in our faiths together uniting us in ways that I look forward to continuing to watch unfold. But my faith doesn’t just stop at that moment. It’s something I live out every day, especially through my involvement with Wyldlife, a Christian organization aimed specifically at middle school students. Being part of this group has deepened my faith and strengthened my connections with others. Being part of Wyldlife has taught me that faith isn’t something you keep to yourself. It’s something you live out in the way you treat others, in the way you show up for your friends, and in the way you contribute to your community. It’s about living in a way that reflects the love and grace I believe God has shown me. And while I’ve been growing in faith through my youth group and my family, my decision to attend GPS has also played a huge role in this journey. It would’ve been easy to choose a school closer to home, a Christian school that’s right across the street from my church, where faith might have been more integrated into daily life. But I chose GPS, and I’m so glad I did. GPS has brought me so many friends and opportunities that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Even more importantly, it has challenged my faith. Here at GPS, I’m part of a community where not everyone shares the same beliefs. And that’s been a blessing. It has made me think deeply about what faith means to me and how to live it out in a world where not everyone sees things the same way. Being in a diverse environment has strengthened my faith and taught me to appreciate different perspectives, all while holding on to my core values. So, what does faith mean to me? It means connection. It means being known and seen by something bigger than myself. It means having a community of people who walk with me, support me, and challenge me to grow. And most importantly, it means having the courage to take that first step, to put my trust in God, and to embrace the new life he has given me.

As I stand here today, I don’t want to tell you what to believe or how to live your life. That’s your journey to discover. But I do want to share this: Faith can be a source of strength, a way to find connection and a path that leads to a deeper understanding of yourself and the world around you. Thank you.

Eliana Tabibiazar Thank you, Addie and Liam, for that sweet introduction. I love y’all so much even if I don’t show it. Also, thank you to all my guests in the first few rows for making time out of your day to come and hear me speak. Y’all mean the world to me! Special shoutout to my Rat, Vivien. Be sure to cherish the next seven years because they truly fly by. Also shoutout to the House family! Wouldn’t want to travel with anyone else!! A name. What is it? Oxford dictionary describes it as a “word or set of words by which a person, animal, place, or thing is known, addressed, or referred to.” But I believe it is more than just a label. I believe it’s a history book that tells the story of you. Doctor of fire. That is the literal meaning of my last name. As a little girl growing up in California, I would just blindly write on my assignments “Eliana Noelle Tabibiazar.’’ Actually incorrectly all the way up till nearly the end of kindergarten. I never understood the meaning of my name, like why was I named Eliana? What’s the story behind my last name? Why is my middle name Noelle? How does all of it really connect? When people would read my name for attendance on the first day of school, they would mispronounce my first and last name. Their attempts varied from, “e-LAY-nah and eeee-lainah" as well as Tabibi-eeezar, tab-azar and worse, but it would always make me giggle. It did end up with some funny nicknames such as Tabibs, Tabibibibi, and for my first name it has become much simpler to just say Ellie. In school, after I corrected them, would come the usual question “where does your name come from?” Well, that’s difficult to answer. I didn’t really know until one day I asked my dad, “What does Tabibiazar mean?” Knowing there was a long story ahead, he sat my sister and I down to explain where it all began. My dad’s family was a Persian Jewish family living in Iran during the Iranian revolution. The rise of the Islamic republic brought a government model that emphasized Islamic identity. This shift marginalized non-Muslim communities, including Jews. To reduce the danger of persecution, my grandfather made the name Tabibiazar up to try to protect his identity when he was forced to join the Iranian army in the 1950s as a young Jewish doctor. His real last name was Ben Israel, and that would not be an appropriate name for an Iranian military officer because it is a Hebrew name that would make his Jewish heritage very obvious. So on that note, he chose Tabibi Azar, an Arabic name which meant “Doctor of fire.” He chose this because he was a surgeon who used to sterilize his surgical tools by putting them into a metal container with alcohol and lighting a fire. While my dad and uncle were in school, they were forced to chant “Death to Israel” and “Death to America.” My dad refused to chant that, so they would abuse him. One day a police officer came over to my dad’s house asking my dad, who was 12 at the time, where my grandfather was. He was at the hospital but my grandmother knew this was the moment their lives were changing and called my grandfather who said go to the hotel to meet him.

That night the house and the hospital were bombed. My family lost everything they had and my grandfather gave away the last seat on the getaway car to the janitor, causing him to have to walk in the heat of the southern Iranian desert with no water. Because of dehydration, as he was trying to reach the rest of his family, he passed out. He got picked up and put in the morgue because they thought he was dead. A resident recognized him and grabbed him from the dead bodies, saving his life. Once recovered, he met up with the rest of his family as the five of them began their trek across the border to Turkey. They traveled on camels at night and slept in barns during the day. My grandmother had to sell all of the family heirlooms to pay for food. One smuggler told my grandmother to let him help carry the baby, talking about my aunt, who was three at the time. My grandmother was so exhausted and thought she could trust him but NO! Once my aunt was in his arms, he took off with her. Luckily they found her in a locked car in Turkey after they crossed the border. After surviving crawling across the cliffs of the border, knowing the end was near, my dad collapsed because of liver inflammation. A couple months after my dad started telling us bedtime stories about his past, it reached a happy ending with my family finding a safe haven in Israel. Their resilience and perseverance have created the framework of who I am. I am proud to be a Tabibiazar because I see it as being a trailblazer: a reminder to show your true self even in the roughest times. They have shown me not to be scared, to embrace a new life, because you never know what’s going to happen until you try. My middle name “Noelle” means Christmas, highlighting my mom’s side of the family, which is Christian. Growing up, I have always felt more connected to this side of the family during our yearly beach vacations on Bald Head Island, North Carolina, where my grandparents built a house in 1984. We would come to North Carolina to spend time with aunts and uncles and cousins and extended family. Since the island is so small, you can easily hop on a golf cart and, within five minutes, be able to do anything you want, like golfing, kayaking, fishing, seeing sea turtles lay eggs and hatch, surfing, playing with the pirates, picking up fairy dust and, of course, crabbing in the creek—which is my favorite. This is a place where I learned how to play golf from my grandfather, who is the best pro in Chattanooga, and how to drive a golf cart after almost killing my dad’s business partner. The house is full of memories consisting of important traditions with loved ones. There are lots of photos all over the house, each making up my family’s story from the ’80s to present. In fact, one of the bedrooms is still referred to as Nana’s room, my great-grandmother, whom I never actually met, but feel like I know a lot about her after hearing all the stories. Some of my favorite parts of the day are the small tradition of coming home after a full day in the sun to the smell of my grandmother’s cooking with the fresh crabs we just caught boiling as we get ready to pick them with our hands. After moving to Chattanooga, I have had the opportunity to spend more time with my grandparents and cherish our almost weekly dinners together, which almost always end with all of us breaking out in laughter from something out of pocket that my brother says to my grandparents. They have always shown that their love for their family is the most important of all. They taught me how to be a Christian, which is important to me, by emphasizing love, compassion, and forgiveness. Finally, my first name, Eliana, means God has answered. I’m only at the beginning, waiting to discover what God has in store for me. Learning about my name has taught me perseverance, resilience, love, leadership and, most of all, the importance of relationships. You never want to cut those ties, whether it’s the one with your friends, teammates, coaches, or teachers, but especially the one with your family. You will always need them by your side to push you, lift you up, and so much more. They help you live your life to the fullest. Eliana Noelle Tabibiazar is not only what people call me but also a story waiting to be told. My heritage has set a framework of core values, but it’s ultimately up to me to define who I am. All our names have the potential of greatness. It’s up to us to define what that greatness will be. I encourage you to go out there and unveil the story hidden behind your name and create a legacy out of it.

Thank you!!

Emily Tolar Thank you, Dad, for that absolutely beautiful introduction. I truly cannot put into words how important you are to me, and I am so grateful for not only all of the things you have provided for me throughout my life, but also for all of the lessons you have taught me that I will cherish forever. Thank you to my mom for being one of the most loving and patient people ever. You have always been there for me since day one, and I don’t know what I would do without you. Thank you to all of my guests in the first few rows. Each and every one of y’all have shaped me into who I am today, and I could not be more grateful for your constant love and support. Lastly, shout out to my amazing Rat, Mary Margaret. You are one of the sweetest people I have ever met, and I truly hope you will hold onto each memory you make at this school because these seven years truly do fly by fast. What is a memory? To me a memory is a glimpse into my past, something that reminds me of a moment in my life no matter how small or big it truly was. My memories are a vital part of my life and they help remind me of where I have come from and who I am. I am the kind of person who likes to dwell on memories quite often. This is where my love of nostalgia stems from. In fact, this has become a big joke in my family because of how often I think and talk about it. My dad teases me all the time about nostalgia because I am constantly reminiscing about so many aspects of my past. I can find this reminiscent feeling in everything I see and do throughout the day, whether it is walking into the dance studio or going to a McCallie football game. I feel such a strong connection to so many places because of the lifelong memories I have formed in these places. One of the most influential places in my life is McCallie. As everyone in these first few rows knows, I have lived at McCallie since I was about 10 months old. This means I have had a very different childhood than most people because I have grown up living around hundreds of teenage boys, and I don’t know anything else. Even though it is very weird, I have truly grown to embrace it because that campus is my home. Most of my McCallie memories have come from simple things such as eating in the dining hall, swimming in the Lake, and running around and playing all across campus with my friends. I can walk anywhere on campus and immediately remember a distinct moment from my childhood. This happens nearly every time I walk into the Quad. I am always flooded with a plethora of memories such as the time, when I was probably five or six years old, and I was almost stung by a bee and I biked away as fast as my tiny legs could on my little Disney Princess bike. It’s childhood moments like these that stand out to me because they remind me of simpler times when my biggest worry was whether or not I got five stars on my behavior chart at school. One other place at McCallie that immediately brings back memories is the football field. Football has always been a constant in my life since my dad used to play during his time at McCallie, and now he is a coach there. Ever since I was born, my mom and I have attended nearly every home game, and I couldn’t imagine my Fridays during the fall any other way. The day I was born, I actually made my dad miss a game because I came a little earlier than expected. In fact, he was on the bus that was about to leave for Nashville when my mom called to tell him the news. And believe it or not, after I was born he wanted to see if he could still drive up to Nashville because the game hadn’t started yet. While we can all admit that was a little crazy, football is something that my dad and I have been able to bond over for the past few years since I truly learned how football works. Every game I watch, whether it is on the TV or in real life, I am laser focused because I know just how important each play is. That means I know exactly what it

means when we are down by seven points with five minutes left on a third and six. I know that once I get to college, I will long for all the times I spent at each of those Friday night games. One other aspect of my life that often leaves me feeling nostalgic is my mom’s job. Ever since we moved to McCallie, my mom has babysat faculty kids as her job. This means as a senior, I still enjoy watching all sorts of little kid shows, and my house is full of highchairs, cribs, and toys. I actually have a crib in my room most of the time, which definitely does not help with all the extra clutter I have in my room. Aside from all of these material things, I have made so many amazing memories and friendships with these kids. I have gotten to watch these kids grow into such amazing human beings, and simultaneously they have helped me grow into the person I am today. They have taught me so much whether it is how to change diapers or how to be a more patient person. They have taught me so many life lessons that I don’t think I could have learned anywhere else. Some of my most treasured memories with them have been going on little adventures to places like the Creative Discovery Museum, the Aquarium, the Zoo, and the McCallie Lake, among many others. I have spent so much of my life at these places, getting to relive the most nostalgic parts of my childhood over and over again. Since my childhood was spent living at McCallie, I always assumed that I would end up going to GPS, but the realization didn’t really hit me until my fifth grade year when I was finally in the thick of the admissions process. Even though I don’t remember the exact moment I decided that GPS was the school for me, I do remember how excited I was to make new memories and friends. I have made countless memories since coming to GPS in sixth grade. An extremely memorable part of my GPS experience has got to be the fact that my seventh, eighth, and ninth grade year were all affected by a global pandemic. I will never forget sitting in my bedroom on Zoom for hours at a time, just hoping that the teacher would let us out of class early so that I wasn’t trapped in my room any longer. When I reflect on my GPS experience as a whole, one place I will always look back fondly on is the dance studio. The memories that I have made in that space remind me just how far I have come not only as a dancer, but as a person too. Being a part of Terpsichord has provided me with so many valuable experiences that I wouldn’t trade for the world. We go through so much throughout the year, and while it can be challenging at times, we know that we are in this together. I will always remember the moments of joy, like when we performed our Spring Concert this past March, as well as the moments of excitement, like when we began choreographing our Thanksgiving pieces. No matter what we are doing that day, we always have a good time and we also have a lot of laughs in those dance studios together. Even though much of what I have talked about today has been about particular places that I find meaningful in my life, it is truly the people that I have made those memories with that I find most important. The relationships that I have made with people throughout the years are what I will remember most whenever I reminisce about my life. My hope for you today is that you remember to prioritize the relationships that mean most to you because in the end that will be what brings you joy. Thank you.

Evelyn Towns Thank you, Ruthie and Spencer, for introducing me, and thank you to all of my family and friends in the first few rows who took the time out of their day to hear me speak. Shout out to my Rat, Madelyn. It has been so fun getting to know you this year! Enjoy your next six years at GPS because they will fly by!

One summer morning, I dashed to the kitchen after my mom returned from her Target shopping trip. I couldn’t contain my excitement when she mentioned that one of the wrinkled plastic bags was for me. After peering inside, I pulled out a bright pink pair of sweatpants. Despite the 90-degree weather, seven-year-old me ran out of the house, determined to show off my new sweatpants to all the neighborhood kids. However, my brother wasn’t as enthusiastic and urged me to change before our neighborhood soccer game. Feeling defeated, I sprinted home in hopes of making it back before the game started. My foot got caught just before reaching my front porch, and I tumbled to the ground. Tears filled my eyes as I inspected the damage. In panic, I glanced at the two soon-to-be permanent scars on my knee. This was not the first time clumsiness had gotten the best of me; I had accumulated many scars and scrapes throughout my childhood. At first, I resented these marks and tried to hide them, changing the subject whenever someone asked about them. Now, I have learned that scars, whether physical or emotional, do not overshadow us; rather, they are the markers of resilience. I can’t count how many times I have tripped or fallen. As I grew older, I became increasingly self-conscious about the resulting blemishes. I used various serums to try to make them fade, and I counted on getting plastic surgery eventually to remove them. Each mark told a story that I often wished to hide, so I would devise various anecdotes to change the conversation if anyone ever wondered where one of them came from, such as pointing out how the three scars on my left knee made a smiley face if held at a certain angle. Therefore, I was dismayed during my freshman year when I learned that I would have to get laparoscopic surgery that would result in multiple scars on both hips. When the surgery day finally arrived, I couldn’t stop thinking about the three marks that would join the others I had spent years trying to conceal. Days later, I held my breath while unbandaging my hip, revealing the scars left behind. I felt resentful of the three bright red lines. In the months following the surgery, I dodged questions about where the marks were from and loathed any reminders of their existence. I feared that people would look at my scars and feel revolted. While they were not in an obvious spot, I could not stop thinking about the times when they would show up and what I could do to hide them. I worried about what I would do when summer came, and my friends planned a day at the pool or a trip to the beach, and what they would think of my scars. They were small, but to me, they stood out as visible markers of imperfection, and I worried they would change how others saw me. Little did I realize at the time, my perspective was about to shift in a much deeper way. I have learned that scars aren’t always displayed prominently on someone’s skin; hardships and adversities can also wound a person. Watching my grandfather struggle with multiple kinds of cancers and surgeries has also stuck with me. Before he became sick, I spent many summer and weekend days with him and my grandmother. My siblings and I would sit with them on their screened-in porch, go swimming in the pool in the backyard, and explore the upstairs of the house to find something that we thought was cool, or could use for a game. My grandfather always checked in on us, and his warmth and care were constants in my childhood. He fought cancer for 10 years before he finally passed away in February of this year. My grandfather was one of the most selfless, kind, and strong individuals I have ever met. Despite being in pain or worrying about a doctor’s visit approaching, he would always find the time to be there for his family. Along with his surgeries came many scars, but he did not let them set him back or make him feel insecure. He pushed through the hardships that he faced and let them make him stronger and bring him closer to God. Leading up to his death, and even now, when I hear people talk about their grandparents, or when I think about a childhood memory at my grandfather’s house, I am reminded of the impact that he had on me and the people around him. Although it may bring me sadness when I think of him, his remembrance can be used to inspire me to try to align with his good character. His impression is specific to each person, as each person had different experiences with him, much like how each scar someone has is unique to them, and each person has a different account for each of the marks on their skin.

Like my grandfather, my father has experienced challenges that have left him scarred. On Christmas Day in 2015, my father fell off our roof while fixing a leak, an accident that left him hospitalized for months. The injuries to his spine, ribs, and pelvis were severe, and for a time, there was fear that they would result in long-lasting effects. Confined to a hospital bed and surrounded by casts, my father faced incredible pain and uncertainty. Yet, through it all, he remained strong, much like my grandfather had. His body has healed now, but he still bears the scars from that fall. When reflecting on those marks and comparing his to my own, I once mentioned to my father that I was insecure about my scars. He replied: “Scars are just signs that you have lived.” Reflecting on his words made me realize that scars are not something to be ashamed of or hidden; they are the stories of our lives, each representing a challenge faced, a lesson learned, and a testament to our resilience. My father’s perspective helped me shift from seeing them as flaws to recognizing their strength. His wisdom taught me that these marks—as well as our inner “scars” from hardships—add depth to our character. They remind us that life is full of challenges, but each one is an opportunity to learn and become stronger. Accepting them is a part of healing and moving on, and we should embrace the beauty in imperfection and the fortitude that comes from overcoming adversity. Scars will fade over time, but they will always be there, serving as reminders of the obstacles that have been faced and the strength that it took to overcome them. Thank you!

Grey Tugman Thank you, Silly Sisters, for that introduction. And, oh my goodness, Mary Kenely actually gave me a hug. (She doesn’t like being touched and I’m a hugger, so it’s a pretty big deal.) To start, sorry in advance, I am shaking and will probably slip up a little during this (And I am going to cry; this is your only warning because I cried just writing it), but let’s do the thank yous; thank you to my parents for encouraging me and forcing me to finish at GPS just like they did (and the ring was worth it), thank you to all my friends and family for being here, and to my Rat, Mckinly— I know it may be hard but GPS is worth the work. Let’s start with the context of this talk. I am one of four girls, and no, my dad is not miserable, so don’t ask. I am the third so I have one little sister and two older. From the moment I learned how to talk, my oldest sister and I despised, hated, and loathed each other. My two other sisters were always caught in the crossfire. One example is when we had to share a room when I was five, and she had an American girl doll that I just loved because we weren’t allowed to have one ’til we were 10. So every night I’d go through all the stuff and she’d get so mad. Another time she had this cherry chapstick that smelled so good, good enough to eat, so I did. It wasn’t as good as I thought it’d be, so I shoved it back where she hid it and just played it cool. This happened with an Oreo-scented marker, too. Then there were small things like if I was breathing too loud, I’d get yelled at to stop, then I’d breathe louder for kicks and giggles, and when I got taller than her, if I looked over her head and grinned, she’d glare at me and threaten a blow to the stomach. I still do this and she just rolls her eyes; I’m so happy I don’t have to protect my stomach anymore. Let’s just say she scared the living daylights out of me whether I showed it or not. Her excuse was tough love, though, so I guess it’s fine. And she wasn’t scary just because of her threats, but also because she was the girl to be. She was the perfect height and almost had abs once. She had good grades and was a dancer, athlete, photographer, and artist. She was absolutely gorgeous and the fact that she had glasses and a sharp jawline

with a larger nose meant that that was the beauty standard. Also, she had freckles and, to this day, I still draw freckles on my face with henna. Mary Kenley had friends who gave her nicknames. Don’t worry I’ll share a few with you. There was Tugboat followed by a tooting noise, MK, Mkat, Mary, KK, Mary K, and I call her Mary Kenley cause I know those nicknames bugged her, and I respect her cause if I didn’t I’d get dropped-kicked into the sun. However, a nickname was one thing I desperately wanted that she had and I never got—so I had to force it on people. I wanted a nickname so bad. As you might have noticed I go by Grey, as in the color, but what y’all might not know is Grace is my middle name. I go by my middle name, so Grey is a nickname. My legal first name is Kennedy, and I really didn’t want Ken as a nickname. Also, I learned that Kennedy means ugly misshapen head, so that was another motive for a name change. But she is the only person under 50 who’s allowed to call me Kennedy out of respect for having to deal with me for so long. I think it’s fair. And although she was one to fear, she was the big girl, the one I wanted so desperately to be. Just the idea of her in her GPS uniform and combat boots sitting at her desk at 11 p.m., trying to get work done is one thing that I know sounds little but that impressed me. It still does because I never do work at home out of pure procrastination. Another example of why I admired her is when I was in third grade, and she was on the cross country team. When we’d go to the meets, I’d tell everyone I’d be a runner too, and that I was just as fast. They wouldn’t believe it, and trust me they had every right to have no faith in my running career. In fifth grade, I joined a cross-country team that lasted a day. Not only because I was lazy, but also because I had asthma and started having an asthma attack. So much fun. Same thing with crew, which she was a pro at. I went the first day and even though we didn’t do anything, I still quit. She never quit. I don’t know how she does it. On that note, she went to GPS all seven years, I mean so did I, but I tried to give up three times. Little side note: Poor Mrs. King. Whenever she was my English teacher, I’d try to move schools, all by coincidence; I promise it’s not personal. Now, when Mary Kenley was a senior, I was in sixth grade, and no, I couldn’t have her as my Cat; it simply wasn’t an option. And while she was trying to figure out the college world, my mom got cancer so she became my mom. She drove me everywhere in the little red Camry that was my great-grandma’s. I don’t think she got enough recognition for that, so I’m telling the whole GPS school that when in hard times, my sister at 17 held up me and all my sisters. Thank you for that. As time went on, she was the artist of the family. She could paint realistic portraits that were insane. She had worked her way through the GPS art system and reached the top, which was AP Drawing. Every time I drew anything, I’d run to her for validation. If she thought it was good, then I’d just created a masterpiece because she had superior knowledge—and just because at the time I didn’t even know what AP was but it sounded fancy. So overall my goal was to reach that fancy AP. I wanted to be her and that was the one thing I could do that could be considered like her. I have dedicated my entire GPS career to this goal, and I’m proud to say that last year not only did I take AP 2D, but I also got a 4, which is considered really good, therefore making it a victory for me. Today, I have that red Camry, I have those friends, the good grades, and the mind of an artist. However, I don’t have abs which is a bummer. But I have given myself the time to practice and create my own art style, and it is way different than hers, but she was the one who inspired me to strengthen my style. She was the one who told me I should enjoy my art. not force it, and my dad reminded me of all this as well. Never in a million years would I have known that I’d write my Chapel Talk about my past archnemesis, but hey, sometimes the unexpected is the most fun. My sister Mary Kenley was the girl to be, Sam was the one who taught me to be open-minded and to be myself, and Dex was my best friend, even when she didn’t want to be. Ladies, I’ve made it. Also, don’t pet the service dog. Thank you.

Brie Wallin In my seven years at GPS I’ve been trying to figure out just who I am But I stunk at that, and so I abandoned it And instead, I would like to focus on who I’ve been Let’s start from the beginning Sixth grade, I was so small I got stuck in my locker and my friend had to get a teacher to let me out. I was stuck in there, in the dark with little air And it was the only seven minutes I was free... of Aleks In case you don’t know what Aleks is, the bane of my existence, It’s a math program that never seemed to end. Oh, and remember membean, too? All the tears I cried, all the days I nearly died Gave me strength until I was set free Chorus: That was sixth grade in a nutshell. You’re making your way through a dark, dark cell In navy sacks that don’t fit well But you’re coming out of your shell with eyes on seventh grade. My dad thought I looked like a golfer And I only agreed because I liked the skirts. Before my first game, I changed my mind about everything And prayed that God would help me out. Boy, did He ever, cause not even 10 minutes later, we all went into quarantine. ( so I might’ve *accidentally* prayed for Covid, I am SO so sorry) Chorus: And that’s seventh grade in a nutshell We’re wearing masks and staying well We’re zooming in class, it was a dry, dry spell And we all went back inside our shells, With eyes on eighth grade This year was kinda blurry, we had this new class called inquiry Where we learned how to write annotated bibliographies We also had to do a project that could maybe help our community So I decided to train our new puppy However, I’ll let you all in on a secret, my dog I had already trained So you can bet that I got that A And that’s eighth grade in a nutshell, I almost failed CIA … but I’m doing fine now (I think) We ate behind shields and had to yell “Hey! Whatcha eating for lunch?”

WHAT? “Never mind” With eyes on ninth grade I live in McCallie’s freshman dorm, and I thought THIS IS IT! It’s my time to shine, I’ll find a man to be mine o mine And we’ll be happy little neighbors ... forever The problem is that they stink One even went number two in the sink So I let go of that endeavor That was ninth grade in a nutshell Did cross country for a day It didn’t go well But not as bad as the boy’s smell Because they dropped a number 2 in the sink, get it? (spoken) With eyes on 10th grade I dated a poet this year He wrote a short story about me It was about how he kidnapped me And murdered me and stuffed me in his trunk. …. Isn’t that romantic? Yeah it was an interesting relationship (spoken) That was 10th grade in a nutshell Learning about red flags And getting dating help Also read Shakespeare And said I welp I guess, Poets are violent Have you read Romeo and Juliet? (spoken) But seriously, if you meet a guy like that. RUN. With eyes on 11th grade This is where things started to get a little more serious Cause college prep took all my free periods Although it was helpful this year was incredibly stressful But I did get some fancy jewelry Not to brag or anything But I got my GPS class ring so now we can all sing Here’s to the girls of the GPS (nah, dawg I’m kidding,) With eyes on 12th grade And now I’m here on the stage It’s my Chapel Talk day

If I could say anything, to any girl in any grade Please don’t wish your time away That was GPS in a nutshell It goes way too fast from sixth to 12th Now I’ve been fully prepped I’m taking the next big step With eyes on the college ... boys Thank you!

Mary Wamack Thank you, Ruthie, Johnny, and Avery, for introducing me. You all have impacted my life more than you know. Shout out to my parents who have pushed me to be here today. I also want to say thank you to everyone in the first few rows for coming to hear me speak. You all mean the world to me. A special shout out to Nana. Thank you for always finding me the most perfect outfits and setting up this whole reception. Lastly, shout out to my Rat, Kyndall. You are such a light and I can’t wait to see what God has in store for you here. I am going to start off by setting the scene of eighth grade me walking with my dad to my first varsity cross country meet. We walk up to my coach, who has a bib for my jersey, and my dad helps me put it on. Then my team and I go for our warm-up lap around the course. Nerves start to fill my body. I see my dad before I walk up to the start line. He hugs me and tells me “Just run for 20 minutes.” He knows how nervous I am and tells me “You have to get out of your head and just run, this is a mental race.” Then my dad and mom pray over me before I line up. The gun goes off. While running the course, the only people I can hear or listen to are my dad and coach Enicks. My dad’s constant reassuring voice is prominent over all the other parents yelling and screaming. Once I finish, I am greeted by my teammates and the people coming in right after me tapping me on my back saying great job. I look up and see my dad running to give me a hug and tell me how proud he is of me. At that moment that is all I care about. When walking back to the tent with my dad, I am greeted by parents who say “Are you gonna run just like your dad?”. Looking back, I didn’t realize how much of an impact this comment would make on my life. I hadn’t fully understood the influence my dad’s running would have on me until this past summer. Being asked this question is such a compliment because people think I can do what my dad does. For some of the people that don’t know, my dad is an ultramarathon runner, which means he runs races that are 100 miles or more. I’ve been to his races before but not until this summer was I able to understand the extremes he was going through to finish. This summer I got to travel to Colorado to see my dad achieve a goal he has worked so hard for. After 11 years of entering the lottery, his name was picked. My dad was going to run Hard Rock, his 15th 100-miler. Let me give you some details on this race. All runners have 48 hours to complete 102.5 miles. Runners climb around 33,000 feet and descend 33,000 feet with the highest peak being over 14,000 feet. Keep in mind this is in 48 hours with little to no sleep. My dad, prior to this race, had to stick to a workout plan that was tiring and brutal for the past year. In June, my sister and dad traveled to Colorado for a month to prepare for the altitude and to practice running parts of the course. Just a few days before the race, my mom, our family friends the Von Canons,

and I headed out West. Traveling around Colorado for a few days before my dad started his race really put into perspective the lengths he was going to go to accomplish his goal. By going on hikes and four-wheeling through different parts of the trail, we were able to see the steep and technical areas he was going to be pushing through. Whether that be in the middle of the night or when he was at his best, nothing was going to be easy. It was the morning of the race, and it seemed that I was more nervous than my dad was. Before we walked to the start, my family stood in the van all hands on my dad praying over him. The presence of God was so strong that, in that moment, God gave me and my family so much peace. He then lined up at the start alongside 140 other competitors, and then the race started. We watched my dad and the other runners disappear, then left to start the drive to the aid station where we would see him next to fill up his pack with any things he needed. All waiting for him to get there, we see my dad coming with a smile on his face. In my head, I am thinking how are you smiling? You just finished 20 miles, you still have 80 more to go. This will continue to be my mindset for the rest of the race. Constantly not understanding how he is being able to go on. We get to the first night. It’s around 4 a.m. and we are waiting in the middle of nowhere in the dark for my dad to get to the next aid station. This is where I imagined to see him at his worst. A whole day of running and zero sleep. But again here comes my dad with his hiking poles in the air with a smile. I think he was more surprised to see me awake than I was seeing him so positive at 4 in the morning. My dad is going off once again, and we will only see him a few more times until the finish. Then the night of the finish came, and Ruthie, Fern, and I stood waiting for my dad to come in for the last mile. Running this last mile with my dad and seeing him kiss the rock at the finish of what he has been working so hard to get to was just a moment I don’t think I’ll ever forget. After this race, I truly gained so much more respect for my dad but still didn’t understand how he was able to do this race or what makes him want to do it. Once we got home I asked him “Why did you want to do it?” He answered with such confidence that this isn’t the biggest race in his life but his race with God is. God has called my dad to run this race of life with endurance. To seek our relationship with Jesus as our number one priority and to see God’s purpose in life. My dad says that he is able to glorify God with what has been given to him and being confident knowing that God’s purpose is behind everything he does. Seeing him face challenges and find his strength in God truly inspires everyone around him. I am grateful to know that I am running the same race as my dad and being able to have someone who is truly so strong in every way. He realizes the important things in life and knows that things in life do matter, but he also knows what truly matters in life and recognizes the importance of our experiences. However, he believes that the way we handle situations and navigate our journeys is guided by God. Even though I know that I could not run 100 miles with him, I know that I can run the race of pursuing God with him and I couldn’t be more grateful for that. THANK YOU!!!

Alaina West Thank you, Kallie and Hayneslie, for that sweet introduction. I love you both. Thank you to my parents for giving me endless opportunities, I don’t thank you enough. Shoutout to my Rat, Claire. Enjoy your time here because it truly does fly by. The greatest gift I’ve ever been given was the title of “sister.” The love of a sister is something human words cannot explain, but human hearts can feel through the entire body. It isn’t that we share specific

physical features that makes the bond so strong, it’s the fact that she was, is, and will always be present with me through it all. The highs, the lows, the grey areas I’ve spent way too much time trying to dissect, only for her to tell me to get out of my own head for a minute, drag me into the car, and force me to go get food to reset—even though most of the time it’s just an excuse for her to get some, too. The bond is something incapable of being summed up accurately in words. From the time that Kallie was born, we were attached at the hip. We are three years apart but have shared many playful moments—playing soccer, hide and seek, and spending hours deciding on what we wanted to be when we grew up. There were moments of frustration when she’d invade my space or borrow things without asking, but those minor annoyances were overshadowed by the bond we were building. If you know Kallie and me, you know that we never got into the American girl dolls phase or playing with makeup. Instead, we spent our time playing many different sports. While Kallie took the route of soccer, I fell in love with volleyball. We always supported each other even though our love for sports took us to different locations. I would often attend some of her games, and she went to some of mine. As we grew older into the teenage years, our bond grew stronger. She looked up to me, often asking me for advice or copying my habits. I took pride in being her role model, even though she would never admit it. We’d share secrets, talk about school and sports, and navigate the confusing world of growing up together. The occasional sibling rivalry flared up, but it was always short-lived. Like the time during Covid, when our family volleyball game got a little too intense, and my dad dove in the driveway, sending his shoe flying, trying to avoid falling on Kallie. We laughed so hard watching it over and over again on the ring camera footage. Growing up brought new challenges as we started to figure out who we wanted to be. At that time, you would never see Kallie and me together. We couldn’t hang out in a group setting together, because it often caused arguments, but we were always able to forgive each other. After my eighth grade year, it was finally time to figure out what I wanted for my future. With me being in high school and Kallie still being in seventh grade, I started to realize that she was growing more independent and figuring her life out. This was around the time that I realized Kallie was actually good at soccer. I always thought she was OK, but after watching her and comparing her to when she started, I have realized that she is a lot better than I thought. This was also around the time that other people started to notice how good she was. I’d often hear people say, “I’ve never seen someone move the ball so well” or “She is definitely going D-I.” I can remember, when we were little and would fight, my mom would always say, “She is your person, she is your best friend.” The day GPS soccer won the state championship, while the whole team was celebrating with the student section, my sister jumped to hug Cadence and me in the stands. A photographer captured that moment. My mom says when she saw that picture, she knew for sure we were bonded in the way she hoped we would be for life—the way my mom is with her sister. As I’ve matured, having a sister is something that I’m most grateful for, and also something I have taken for granted. My sister is the most competitive, caring, brave, and hardworking person I know. She strives for excellence and doesn’t settle for just the bare minimum. If you had told me at a young age that my sister and I would be best friends later in life, then I never would’ve believed you. Now I couldn’t imagine my life without her as my built-in best friend. We do everything together, like late night car rides, going to get food, shopping, and so much more. We are constantly making memories together that will last a lifetime, but having a sister is also a humbling experience. She will always be honest and tell me she hates the dress I’m wearing, which makes me want to take it off immediately. Sometimes she will say this, and then a week later wear that exact dress. She’ll be the first person to call me out when I’m in the wrong. She is someone I know I can count on to not give me the answer I want to hear, but to tell me something I need to hear even when I don’t want to hear it.

Over the years I’ve not bothered to ask my sister if she wants to hang out, because I’ve always seen her as my “little sister,” but now I realize I’ve wasted so much time. I know going off to college is going to be a challenge for my sister and me, because I won’t be across the hall anymore. We have gone through so much together like multiple surgeries and helping our mom fight cancer. I didn’t believe in soulmates until I realized that my sister was my soulmate. She has been the most undeniable proof that they exist. I never have to live a single significant moment without her by my side, even if we hate each other at times. She’s the greatest gift I’ve been lucky enough to receive. As I grow older and our bond grows stronger, I’ve learned that sisterhood will always be something that I cherish. After freshman year, Kallie and I transferred from CCS to GPS. I really didn’t know what to expect. We both knew a few people who went here, but all we knew was that we had each other. Going to an all-girls school was a little frightening, due to the fact that we had been at coed schools our whole lives. The absence of a coed environment often amplifies the fear of judgment, comparison, and the pressure to fit in. For many, the idea of being surrounded by strong, opinionated, and driven young women can be both inspiring and terrifying. Beneath the surface of these fears lies the potential for something deeply transformative: sisterhood. Over time, shared experiences and challenges forge unbreakable bonds. What once felt intimidating becomes a source of strength. The sense of sisterhood emerges in everyday moments—laughing over jokes and supporting each other during sporting events. It’s found in the encouragement to speak up, challenge ideas, and grow confidently. The environment becomes a place of acceptance. The GPS environment fosters a space where young women learn to empower themselves and one another, forming lifelong connections built on respect, trust, and genuine support. In the beginning I had one sister, but now I’ve gained over 500 sisters. The sisterhood here, and experiencing this with my own sister, will always be something that I cherish.

Ella Whitaker Thank you, Mom and Abby, for that amazing introduction. To the people in the first few rows, I love you all more than you could know. The impact you’ve all made on my life, whether you know it or not, is bigger than I could ever articulate, and I’m so grateful you could all be here to hear me speak. To the Class of 2025, thank you for making my last seven years so wonderful. I wish I had more time to get to know so many of you wonderful people even better, and I wish you all the best in your future endeavors. Finally, to my Rat, Zoey. Just know that throughout life, you will be offered the most amazing opportunities, take them, learn from them, and no matter what: Remember that life is yours for the taking. You’ve got this. What if I fall? Beautiful baby bird, will you ever leave your nest? Learning to fly is terrifying, but I know you’ll do your best I wish I could guide your wings forever, but one day I must go I love you baby bird, don’t let me break your soul It’s a bit corny isn’t it?

I wrote this poem rather early into my freshman year. We were in the car, returning home from my grandmother’s, and for some reason I felt particularly inspired that day. I remember that I wasn’t sad when I wrote it, I had no specific intention behind the poem’s meaning, and emotionally I didn’t exactly find a huge connection to it. I was purely writing to write, but I never knew just how much this poem would eventually mean to me. See, this Talk was going to be entirely different when I sat down for my first meeting with Ms. Dix. I was hoping to write a sort of contemplation on my relationship with religion and spirituality and talk about certain music as it’s helped me through that journey, but then, on January 26th, my grandfather passed away. It wasn’t unexpected; he’d been diagnosed with terminal leukemia this past summer, but despite knowing it would happen, my life since has still been a bit of a whirlwind of grief and confusion. I’ve always been very close with my family, when people ask me about my weekend, “I went to visit family” is not an uncommon statement from me. I was the first grandchild, and for some of my grandparents, I was the only grandchild. I’ve been loved and supported my whole life by a network of blood and law and even purely just love at times with no other familial connection. It’s what's gotten me where I am and I don’t know what I would have done without it … and it’s all been here: In Chattanooga. But I’m leaving to the north anyway. Most people seem to think that when I say I’m going up to the northeast, that I’m doing it to escape my family, a way many people my age seek independence, but the truth is that their presence here is the one thing that makes me hesitate leaving. My grandfather’s death has rattled me with a lot of feelings. Besides mourning him, I’ve been realizing just how much I’m going to be missing when I leave. I was lucky enough to be there when he passed, and to be able to visit as much as possible in the months leading up, but that was only because I happen to live an hour and a half out by car. Of course, this makes me worry about any emergencies, or situations where I won’t be there to comfort, and how I may lose time with my loved ones. But what’s also gotten to me lately, is how I’m going to be missing a lot of important moments with newer life. When I was almost 11, my aunt’s daughter was born. I was there in the hospital and held her in my arms when she was less than a day old. Similarly, just this last September, I held my aunt’s son in the hospital when he was only days old. With her daughter, I saw some of her first steps, her first words, and watched her grow to be the passionate young woman she is now as she starts her journey through school. With her son, however, I’ll likely come back after months to see just how much he’s grown while I was across the country. It’s scary to think about how time will move without me no matter what I do, but even with how hard it is, I know the right choice for me to be able to embrace the best opportunities possible for my education, future career, and overall achievements as a human being. Thankfully, because of our closeness, while I’m sure my family doesn’t want to think of me being all the way across the country for eight months out of the year, they’ve also been my biggest supporters. The reason I know I can do this and I know I can succeed is because of their support. Even though neither of my grandfathers are able to be here today, I’ll always look up to them and their persistence and their achievements with all the love and care they put into their work and their families. With my grandmothers, I know they’re always a text or call away, and knowing just how much they’ve all

gone through and put into their lives encourages me every day. And with my parents, I have been so happy to grow alongside you. Because of my mother’s pursuit of college in her mid-30s and my dad becoming a firefighter right before his 40th birthday, I know that wherever I go in life, if it’s not exactly right the first time, I’ll be OK, because I’ll always have the support to try again. And because of the support every single one of them gives me, I know that when I do come back, things will of course be different, and time will move without me, but that love I have here will never leave. Now, I want to end by sharing a song with you that’s helped me through many of the difficult feelings I’ve come across in my young life.

Ella Beth Wiedmer Thank you, JC, for that incredible introduction, and thank you to everyone in the first few rows for taking time out of your day to hear me speak. Mom and Dad, I know I have not always been the easiest daughter to raise, but no two people could have done it better than you. I am eternally grateful for every sacrifice you two have made, allowing me to stand here today. Also, shout out to my Rat, Zoie. I have loved getting to know you these past few weeks, and I cannot wait for the year ahead. You remind me so much of myself in sixth grade, and I am so excited to see what you do with your time here. Finally, I just wanted to let everyone know that today, August 23rd, is the five year anniversary of the Lover album release. 2 + 3 + 8 = 13, and needless to say, I was overjoyed when I saw this date marked on my Taylor Swift calendar, which hangs in my bedroom. I have a fear of swinging objects: wind chimes, rocking boats, rocking chairs, and even a bouncing basketball. Now, I am perfectly aware that this sounds insane, and that you may be either laughing right now or trying to hold back your laughter out of a fear of offending me. I give you full permission to laugh, as even my closest friends could not contain themselves as I told the harrowing tale of my phobia over dinner one evening. Right about now you are probably envisioning me running away screaming from the evil swingset monster on the playground, an image that is unfortunately somewhat realistic. Let me set the scene: I am on the playground of Fairyland elementary school during aftercare. I believe I am in kindergarten at this point, and I am suddenly struck with fear. I notice that whenever people get off of the swings, leaving them to move on their own, a tightness enters my chest, and my fight or flight kicks in. After much pleading with the older boys to please make the swings stop, the situation only gets worse, as they decide to push them every which way, announcing that there are ghosts on the swings. In an attempt to comfort myself, I bite down on the fabric of the cardigan I am wearing at the time, a charming little white sweater with colorful plastic buttons. Finally, I reach my breaking point and I rip the sweater out of my mouth, taking my two bottom front teeth with it. A bloody scene follows, as I stand on the playground in shock, and the aftercare counselors rush over to me, looks of horror on their faces. My parents are called, and come as soon as they can to pick me up, assuming that I had just fallen on the playground, and thanking the Lord that the teeth would grow back. What my parents did not know, however, was that their daughter was now having nightmares about something most other kids dreamed of. I even remember praying that the tooth fairy would go to the playground and cut down all of the swings, because clearly that was the most reasonable solution to this problem.

Unlike many aspects of childhood, this did not fade over time. If anything, the anxiety became magnified. I distinctly remember dreading going to strength and conditioning, not because of the infamous stairlaps or the rowing test, but because of the TRX straps. No, these were not some especially difficult piece of workout equipment, they were simply attached to the ceiling, meaning that did what? Swing. That’s right, they swung constantly, and instead of focusing on the workouts we were doing, I would always have my mind on whether or not the TRX straps were swinging. I would feel like a crazy person watching one of my classmates swing them back and forth and feeling my heart rate increase. The thing that really made this so difficult was that I couldn’t simply go up to Coach Blackwell and say that I was scared of the swinging TRX straps, because no matter how hard that seems to make up, it is even harder to believe. Although I have been joking about this, it did slowly start to take over my life. The fact of the matter is that almost nobody in the world, at least in my world, was able to understand why I reacted this way to these situations. It would be assumed that I was seasick when I asked to get off of the boat on my family beach trip, when in reality I felt like I was going to have a panic attack if I had to endure one more minute of the boat’s rocking. If my family was going to eat out somewhere, I would decide not to go due to the fear that the lamp above the table might get bumped, inevitably occupying my mind for the rest of the dinner and half of the drive home. I can distinctly remember watching an episode of the tv show “The Middle” in which a neighbor decides to cover her entire porch in wind chimes. Needless to say, I imagined myself in that situation, and realized very quickly that the story would end with me in handcuffs. I started feeling like this problem would never be solved, and resigned myself to the fact that I would probably just be the crazy girl who hates swings for the rest of my life. What if my kids wanted a swingset one day you ask? I would simply gaslight them into believing they did not. Now, one thing that is kind of amazing about having such an isolating condition is that I have an incredible piece of lore to drop whenever it may be needed. For instance, I wrote about my phobia for a scholarship application, when asked about a struggle I had overcome in my life. I did not, unfortunately, get asked back for an interview, but I can’t blame them. I mean who knows what I might have done if the interviewer had wind chimes nearby. Around my freshman year, after many Google searches yielding close to no results, I finally decided that I needed to talk to someone. I was beginning to lose hope that I would be able to get past this problem, and I felt like I would never get to live a truly normal life. Being forced into a panic by the knowledge that the water in my water bottle was sloshing around was not exactly conducive to a “normal life.” The part that hit me the hardest however, was the fact that some music began to trigger me, especially music that contained bells or certain repetitive sounds. I can clearly remember not wanting to go to candlelight because of the hand bells, or being afraid to go to the Christmas service at church due to worries that the organ or the bells would trigger a reaction. This led me to fear that one of my greatest passions in life would be taken away from me by my very own brain. So, I finally explained to my mom why I acted the way I did, and asked her if she thought there was anything that could be done. Part of me felt bad because my mom said she had no idea that I had been dealing with this for so long, and she felt horrible that she didn’t realize it when I was younger. The thing is though, how could she have known if I never told her what was going on? It finally became clear to me that struggling with something alone, no matter how hard you think it may be for others to understand it, is never going to make things better. When I went to my pediatrician, she was clearly dumbfounded, proving that they really did break the mold when they made me. After giving it some thought, she referred me to a counselor, another chance for me to shock a medical professional, and prescribed anxiety meds to combat the chemical side of things. The thing is, after seeing my counselor twice, I ghosted her. Unfortunately she was not matching my energy, and was unreceptive to my jokes. Yes, I realize that your therapist is not a test audience for

stand-up material, but the cold, humorless vibe just wasn’t working for me. The pills however, worked wonders. In about six weeks, I was feeling a big difference, and my pediatrician, though she would have preferred that I stuck with the counseling, took the wins where she could get them. Although you will most likely never find me on a swing that is attached to a boat, listening to wind chimes, I no longer fear going to restaurants, I have pushed the kids I babysit on the swings without the loss of any more teeth, and I even spent multiple hours on a boat this summer, without throwing myself overboard. So, to everyone who placed bets that this entire Chapel Talk would be about Miss Taylor Alison Swift, I’m sorry for the curve ball, but I hope that this talk has given you insight into why you should never force yourself to solve your problems on your own. Or at the very least, has assured you that there is definitely someone else who is crazier than you. Before I let you go, I am going to do the predictable and sing a song by one of my favorite people on earth. One that is, particularly in the bridge, quite fitting with this year’s theme. Although not every lyric of this song perfectly fits my high school experience, or the experiences of my peers, I think that the message is one we can all connect to. Not just seniors, but all of us, as each person here is starting something new, even if that may only be the school year ahead. Sixth-graders, you are all starting a chapter of your lives that I can confidently say, standing on the other side of it, will be full of magic, fear, and everything in between. One thing about new beginnings or struggles you may face is that they can often remind you that no matter how many people you have around you, You’re on your own kid, and you always have been. This doesn’t mean that you don’t have people who love you and care about you, or that you can’t ask for help. But always know that you can face every new challenge on your own, because at the end of the day, you’ve got no reason to be afraid. Please sing along if you know this one!

Caiden Williams Joy Thank you so much, Maddie, for that amazing introduction. I love you so so much and I’m so grateful that I get to call you my best friend. Thank you to my parents for giving me the ability to be here today. Y’all are literally the best parents ever, and I love y'all so much. Thank you so much to all of my Eastwood family here today. Y’all have made such an impact on my life, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Shout out to my Rat, Mckinly. I hope your years at GPS are amazing. Finally, shout out to Leila and Nora for being the best hype girls ever!! Everytime I see y’all in the hall, you make me smile. I love y'all so much. There are a lot of things that make me happy. Getting Starbucks before school, climbing competitions with the GPS climbing team, going to the mall with my friends, getting a random hug, the list is endless. It doesn’t take much for me to smile, and being upbeat and positive comes really easily to me. Now, part of my positivity comes from the fact that I do have so many things that make me happy. I love coming to school, I adore going to church, and I’ve been blessed with amazing friends. However, the real reason for my positivity isn’t because of the things in my life that make me happy, it’s because I have joy. Joy is different from the everyday happiness we all experience: happiness is based on external circumstances, while joy comes from within. In the Bible, joy is a fruit of the spirit, which just means it’s something that somebody gains when they pursue a relationship with God. What it actually looks like to have joy in day-to-day life is having a deep sense of peace and contentment based on your relationship

with God and the knowledge that he’s working in all things. This means that even when circumstances are difficult, joy can be found because God is still present and in control. What this doesn’t mean, though, is that you're never sad. Unfortunately, this was an aspect of joy that was really hard for me to understand. For a long time I heard that as a Christian, I was meant to be joyful all the time and in all situations. Since I didn’t really understand yet that being joyful was solely based on your relationship with God and not just a feeling, I started putting immense pressure on myself to not show when I was feeling any emotion other than happiness. I would push down any feeling of sadness or anger and pretend they weren’t there. Shocker, that actually wasn’t healthy, and it always resulted in me blowing up at some point and crying for a longgg time. However, as I’ve grown in my faith, I’ve come to understand that since joy isn’t just a feeling based on circumstances, and that it’s completely possible to be joyful and also sad or angry or upset. One of the books of the Bible that really helped me understand that is Job. In the book of Job, Job loses basically everything that’s important to him, all his material possessions, his children, and any respect from others. Job gets upset—rightfully so; he’s angry, confused, and really sad. However, in the midst of all of those feelings he chooses to turn to God, and instead of receiving condemnation, he finds that God is understanding and kind, and he reminds Job that he, God, is in control. I remember reading this book of the Bible for the first time, and really realizing that God wanted me to come to him with my feelings. And that in the midst of the really hard times I could find joy in the fact that he was with me. Now, instead of shoving down any negative emotions, I let myself feel them and go to God with them. I still get sad, and I still cry, as all of my close friends have seen, but as I go to God with my feelings, he shifts my perspective and helps me see where he’s working, and that in turn makes me more joyful. Along with so many stories in the Bible of what joy looks like, I’ve also been so blessed to have amazing people in my life who exemplify having the joy of the Lord. Two of those people are my best friends Madaline and Ella. Madaline is the amazing girl who introduced me, she goes to my church, she actually used to go to GPS too, and we’ve been friends since first grade. Ella is my other best friend, also from my church, and even though we’ve only been close friends for about a year, it feels like it’s been so much longer. Both of these girls have such a strong faith, and I’ve seen so much joy in them. They’ve gone through some of the hardest things I can imagine, and I’ve cried with both of them, mostly my tears, on multiple occasions. However even in the sadness and hard times, I saw that they still had joy. Because of their strong relationships with Christ they were able to see that he was working in their situations and that he was with them through everything. Like them, and everyone else in this room, there have also been times in my own life where I’ve gone through some really challenging things, but thanks to the Lord, have been able to be joyful in spite of them. One example of this was my sophomore year at GPS. Believe it or not, there was actually a time in my life where I hated coming to school. Sophomore year I started having a really rough time with some friendships and started dealing with real insecurity for the first time in my life. I would get so nervous thinking about going to school each day because I was super worried that people would be judging me, or would even say something mean to my face. It got to the point where I didn’t even want to come to school anymore, and I even thought about leaving GPS. However, there was one thing that I was able to look forward to each school week, and that was Wednesday night church. Through the amazing friends, leaders, and mentors that God placed at my church, I was able to find joy despite everything that was going on at school. My insecurities and friend problems didn’t magically go away, but as I continued to seek the Lord and be encouraged by my church family, coming to school got easier and easier, until eventually it wasn’t a struggle anymore. Of course, now I love coming to school and it’s honestly one of my favorite places to be, but the joy I express while

I’m at school didn’t start when everything was going good; it started when everything was going wrong and I called on the Lord and he gave me joy. Now, looking ahead to college, moving out of my parents’ house, and entering adulthood, it’s really easy for me to only see the challenges ahead and let myself be overcome with fear and worry. However, in those moments where I start to spiral down that path I look back on my life and remember all the ways God has shown up for me before. And I know that I don’t have to worry about what’s going ahead because no matter what, my joy comes with me. Thank you!!!

Sydnie Williams Thank you, Amelia, for that wonderful introduction. Thank you to all of my guests for being here to hear me speak. You guys have all shaped me in many ways and I couldn’t be more grateful for your support. Shoutout to my Rat, Leighton. You’re actually the funniest person ever, and I’m so grateful I’ve gotten to know you. For as long as I can remember, I have loved music. My mom put me in small music classes and exposed me to instruments at nine months old, and since then, my love for it has only intensified. All of my earliest memories surround music. Instead of singing lullabies or Disney music as a kid, I sang Jimmy Buffet songs in my dad’s car. Whenever I was at my grandfather’s house, he had a little clock that would play music at every hour, and I would sit there and wait for the clock to strike, so that I could dance around the living room as it played. At one point, I became a One Direction fan, and my friends and family haven’t had a moment of peace since. There was one particular genre, though, that graced car speakers and CD players for a long time: musical theater. This is where a lot of my love of music manifested itself. Growing up, I would always come to GPS to watch the shows that my sister would stage manage or tech for, and every time a show ended, I was stuck with the knowledge of yet another soundtrack existing. There’s one that admittedly, I still turn on often when I don’t know what to listen to, which is of course, Legally Blonde: The Musical. There was something about musical theater that was truly fascinating to me. Constant orchestrations accompanied by lyrics truly told a story, emphasized by other features such as the lighting and the set. I knew in some way, I wanted to be a part of it. By the time I reached high school, I decided to follow in the footsteps of my sister and give technical theater a try. It’s crazy that one of my main interests, and one of the things that occupies almost all of my time, was derived from another main interest of mine, that occupies the rest of my time. From the first professional performances I ever saw: Wicked and Newsies, to the school production I’m currently a part of, also Newsies, my love for musical theater has stayed strong. Even in moments where this smaller interest faltered, remembering the core of why I love it has always brought me back, and never fails to grow my appreciation for it. Now, I can confidently say that being a part of technical theater has given me a lot, including but not limited to: opportunities to grow as a leader, bonds with others that I truly cherish, the stamina to be on my feet for hours at a time, the ability to not crack under pressure of drastic change that occurs within literal seconds, and most importantly, an appreciation for the intense, draining, yet beautiful craft that is live performance. Live performance is the closest you can get to magic on a stage. Being a part of it has made me appreciate the months of hard work that goes into making a craft for the world to see, and

viewing it from the audience’s perspective has always made me more appreciative of the talent people have to share with one another. This has led me to the interest that I am most known for among my friends, family members, and strangers: my addiction to live music. If you take one look on any of my social media pages, you will be instantly met with photos of concerts I have attended over the years. I’m very fortunate to have attended these performances. Not only is the experience amazing, but also, every concert I’ve attended has taught me something. My first concert taught me to wear supportive shoes to the next concert, my first time seeing Harry Styles taught me that life is truly spontaneous as the tickets were given to us less than 24 hours before the show itself. When I saw Bleachers with sweet Ella Beth, I learned how important it is to pay attention to your surroundings, because there’s nothing more awkward and alarming than walking, quite literally, in the middle of an altercation in the streets of Nashville; and lastly, when I saw Justin Timberlake with one of my best friends, I learned that the world tour was not ruined, but it was actually pretty cool. Of course, there are legitimate, more profound lessons learned from all of these experiences, but the most important lesson I’ve learned from my various concert excursions is how important it is to occupy your time with the things that make you truly happy. I can genuinely say that because of music and my love for it, it has given me so much joy in my day-to-day life, new interests that I will hold with me forever, friendships through common interest, and experiences that I will never forget. I’m very lucky to have lived with the happiness this artistic outlet has granted me, and I’m even more lucky to know what it’s like to truly feel passionate about something. Whether it be musical theater, Latin, or football, finding your niche can truly change your life. So, I encourage you all to find something you care about just as much as I have, and maybe go support live theater and music while you’re at it. Thank you!

Hannah Wise Thank you, Hayden, MaryLocke, Maddox, and Sergeant, for that sweet introduction. I love you all more than you know and can’t imagine my life without each of you. And thank you to all my guests for taking the time out of your day to come hear me speak. Each of you has made such a meaningful impact on my life, and I’m so grateful for all of you. And a special shout out to my Rat, Catherine. Emma and I have loved getting to know you this year, and I hope your time here at GPS is as special as mine has been. ​ While trying to write this speech, I found myself reflecting over my past seven years here at GPS. Looking back on all my highs and lows, one thing has always remained constant, and that is the people who have stood by my side through it all. With that being said, I’d like to use my time up here today to express my appreciation for the people who mean the most to me. I would like to start with my dad. Dad, I first want to thank you for providing me with endless opportunities and for being my biggest example of what hard work looks like. You are the reason I work so hard for what I want and you have given me motivation to be extremely successful in all aspects of my life. Thank you for always encouraging me to have my own opinions and to never let other people change what I think. I also want to thank you for always being authentic and consistently working to better yourself every day. You inspire me to become the best version of myself, and for that, I am forever grateful.

To my mom, words can’t describe how much you mean to me. You’re the glue that holds our family together and your patience is inspiring. Thank you for continuing to cook big family dinners even when it’s just the three of us at home now, and thank you for never letting our family fall apart even in the toughest of times. Thank you for being my constant source of strength and love. Even when I make big mistakes or bad decisions, you’re always the first one to tell me it’s OK and make me feel understood. I hope one day I can repay you for all the sacrifices you’ve made for me in order to have the happiest childhood possible. I know I don’t say it a lot, but I love and appreciate you more than you know. Next I would like to thank my grandmother, Mimi. Mimi, thank you for giving me some of my favorite memories growing up. I still remember playing in the hammock at your old house and baking cookies with you and Hayden every holiday. I know Grandpa is watching down over us, and I hope he’s proud of who I’ve grown up to be in these past few years. Next I want to thank my sister Maddox. Maddox, I know we weren’t the closest growing up due to our age gap, but despite living in different towns for the majority of our lives, you’ve always been one of my biggest role models and favorite people, and I’m so happy we’ve gotten so much closer since you moved to Chattanooga. Thank you for giving me my first niece. I love Lily so much and I can’t believe she’s already walking and talking. Thank you for being such a great example of what I want my future to look like. You have no idea how much I look up to you. To my brother, Sergeant, thank you for being the best (and only) brother I could ever ask for. Your wild energy keeps life exciting, and I love every adventure we go on. Thank you for always being willing to take me and my friends out on the boat and for always being down to go on a fun adventure. Those moments are some of my favorites, and I’m so grateful for all the memories we’ve made. No matter what, I know I can always count on you. To my sister MaryLocke, ever since I could remember, I always looked up to you the most. Thank you for always spending time with me even when I was an annoying kid. You’ve always been the coolest older sister, and I can’t imagine a more perfect person to look up to. You’re one of those people who makes a room light up when you walk in, your happiness is contagious, and I can see the Lord’s presence in you, through all your words, actions, and kindness. Thank you for being the best big sister I could ask for, you’re truly one of my biggest blessings. Next I want to thank my sister Hayden. Hayden, you are truly my best friend. Even though some claim that I grew up faster than you did, I’ve always looked up to you so much. Thank you for all the late night drives, long talks, and phone calls from college. Thank you for always being your cringy and optimistic self, even when I tell you to stop acting so happy. Thank you for always being there for me even when it felt like no one else was. Growing up, I felt like you and I were a dynamic duo and nothing could stop us, thank you for protecting and nurturing me in ways I still don’t fully realize. You’ll always be my partner in crime, best friend, and all around favorite person. Thank you for being the best big sister, I’m so excited to be with you again next year. Next, I want to thank one of my best friends Emma. Emma, thank you for always being there for me these past seven years. When we didn’t really have other friends freshman year, we always still managed to make every weekend fun and you always stuck by my side. Thank you for always allowing me to be my true and unfiltered self with you, no matter what I tell you, I know you’re never judging me. Thank you for always being the most reliable and constant friend, every time I call, I know you’ll drop whatever you’re doing and answer. I also want to thank you for always pushing me out of my comfort zone and taking the lead in any and all social situations. When we’re together I know I can just shut my brain off and you’ll take care of everything. Thank you for all our memories together, I’m so excited to get to do college with you.

To my ride or die, Charlotte, I first have to thank you for all the laughs we’ve shared together over these past seven years. You are truly the funniest and weirdest person I know, and I’m so so grateful that I get to experience the wild things that come out of your mouth every day. Every time I’m with you I’m always having fun, thank you for teaching me to never take life too seriously or in your own words: to realize that “it’s not that deep.” But I also want to thank you for being one of the kindest, most sensitive, and loving friends I’ve ever had. There’s so much more to you than you let on, and I’m forever grateful that I’ve been one of the few people that has truly gotten to know you. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you next year, but I know that you’re always just one phone call away, and I’ll definitely be calling. To another one of my best friends, Katie. Katie, thank you for always listening to my rants and for giving me the best advice about everything. Thank you for always showing me little acts of kindness and friendship; watching you as an example has truly made me a better person. Thank you for always offering to drive because you know I don’t want to, and thank you for always being honest even when it’s not what I want to hear. You are the greatest friend, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. To my childhood best friend, Sophie. Sophie, thank you for sticking by my side since kindergarten. We’ve both changed so much since then, but still, I always find myself wishing you were around. We’ve truly experienced growing up together and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way or with any other person. We went from driving the golf cart around my neighborhood in middle school to now going on long drives to catch up on life. Even though we don’t see each other as often as we’d like, I am certain that you’ll be in my life forever. Thank you for the past 13 years. I can’t wait to do college with you! And last but not least, to another one of my best friends, Lillis. Lillis, I first want to thank you for always being there for me when I needed it most. You’ve continued to be the greatest friend for the past six years, and you’re truly the person whose opinion matters to me most. You’ll always be the person I want to call after a hard day and the person I rant to about any problem I have in my life. We met in the most ironic way possible, and I’ll always remember that day as one of my favorites. Thank you for always allowing me to be my full self around you without any judgment. You’ve been the most steady friend for these past six years, and I can’t imagine life without you. To all the people who I didn’t have time to thank today (you know who you are), I am so blessed to have all of you in my life. I hope I’ve had as much of an impact on your lives as you all have had on mine. To close, I would like to share one of my favorite Bible verses teaching us to always be intentional with what we do, and to be thankful for everything we have. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 says: "Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus." Thank you.

Sara Wright Thank you, Lauren, for that wonderful introduction. I love you more than words can express and thank God daily for you. Thank you, Mom, Dad, Gran, Grandaddy, and Nana for giving me access to opportunities that others are not able to have. Thank you for pushing me to be the very best person I can be and for being a role model in my life. I am forever grateful for all five of you, and I love you all so much. Shout out to my Rat, Ryan! You’re one of the sweetest and goofiest persons I’ve ever met, and I love the way you shine. Never let anyone dampen your spirit because you truly are one of a kind and you

are beautiful. Finally, thank you to the people in the first few rows for taking time out of your days to come hear me speak. You all have impacted my life in so many ways and have helped me become the person standing up here today. I am forever grateful for every one of you. One morning while scrolling on TikTok, I came across a journaling prompt that read, “What do you miss the most about your childhood?” This prompt took me back a little as I wasn’t expecting such a deep question at 6 in the morning on a Saturday, but I started thinking. I could say that I missed my childhood dogs, and even though I do, that didn’t feel like a good enough answer. So, I continued to think about this question throughout the day as I did my Christmas shopping. It was the day of Christmas Eve when it finally occurred to me. Christmas this year hadn’t seemed as magical as previous years. I stood in my church during the Christmas Eve service when it happened, and with it came a wave of sadness. Yes, it’s a good thing I’m older and have lived more life than my previous self, but standing in the church service listening to the trumpets, drums, and organ, my heart ached knowing it would be my last Christmas in high school. As I continued through the night, I found the same feeling while opening presents at my grandmother’s house. It’s not that I wasn’t happy with what I got or I was ungrateful for any of it, but watching my little cousins open their presents and talk about Santa coming hit my heart in a certain way. I didn’t envy them, but rather felt sad for them that one day they’d be looking at my grandmother’s Christmas tree and it wouldn’t sparkle like it used to and the shiny gift wrappings would just be paper used to keep someone from knowing what their gift is. As we arrived home that evening, I was eager to sleep, not because I was excited for Santa to come, but because the night’s festivities had taken a toll on my introverted self and my social battery had been completely drained. The next morning I woke up on Christmas Day before everyone else. I creeped out into the living room and stood looking at the Christmas tree. The lights on the tree were off and the presents were neatly stacked underneath it. Nothing serious about the sight caught me off guard, but something about it still made me wish I had more time to be a little kid again. I wished I could return to my youth and have more time with my friends, family, and myself. But as I stand here today reflecting on my life, I am happy to be growing up. Yes, I do wish I had more time to be a little kid, but with growing up comes life experience and isn’t it wonderful to live a life full of experiences? I’ve learned so much in my short 18 years on this earth and I’m excited to continue to learn more about the world, friends, family, boyfriend, and myself. As I continue to grow, I look at my younger self with a sense of satisfaction, knowing she’d be proud of who I am today. As I look to the future, I see only more life waiting for me, and I couldn’t be more excited for what it all has to offer. Seniors…we only have 113 days until we graduate. Continue to be proud of all your growth, but also take time to reflect on the past and think about how far we have all come since we started here, whether you started this school year, four years ago, or almost 7. Know that the tiny person in your past is proud of who you are. With my Chapel Talk coming to an end, I’d like to sing a song written by Elvis Presley. This is traditionally a love song, but I’d like to sing it as a love song from myself to my future self. 2025 is the way of self-love, so please enjoy the song, and to my past, present, and future self, you’re loved by so many people, especially me.