#OnceASEMGirlAlwaysASEMGirl

Hello Ladies.

First, Congratulations. And to my residential girls, “Gong shi, gong shi.”  I’m very proud of all that you have accomplished and I want to thank you for giving me the honor of representing the faculty in bidding you farewell and good luck as you move into your lives beyond SEM.

You all know I value honesty and straightforwardness so I’ll be honest here.  Secretly, since returning to SEM as a teacher eight years ago, I have wanted to be the faculty speaker at graduation.  I have always felt a small pang of jealousy mixed with admiration for the people who have had the opportunity to do so.  I think, on some level, being selected represented some kind of validation that I had managed to make a positive difference, no matter how small, in your lives. 

The problem is I’ve had trouble writing this speech.  I’ve written and rewritten it about a hundred times in my head.  I thought about previous speeches full of Dr. Priest’s inspiration, Ms. Miller’s kindness, and Mrs. Greene’s encouragement and wondered what I had to offer you. I didn’t really understand what was making this so difficult until yesterday at Class Day when I didn’t notice I started crying and then, I couldn’t stop.  It became clear to me that the reason I’ve been having so much difficulty figuring out what to say is that you’re not the only ones saying goodbye – this year, I am, too.  And, like you, I’m excited and ready for something new, but I’m also a little bit terrified (I mean, teaching boys?  That’s kind of terrifying).  But, luckily, I know that my time as a SEM girl has prepared me to venture into my new life with the skills to survive and to thrive.  And then I understood that I could send you off with a reminder: that you have an incredible community cheering you on and supporting you because, once you’re a SEM girl, you’re always a SEM girl.

I have essentially been a member of the SEM community since I was in 7^th grade.  Back then, there was an all-day workshop that SEM held to try to get middle school girls to see where the proverbial magic happens.  That year, the subject was English (the title was Semantics – I loved a great pun even then) so two of my Catholic school classmates and I decided to check it out.  I walked through those iconic wooden doors and knew there was something different about this place.  It didn’t hurt that we got to dress up as characters from a book and that the day began with a costume contest. Multiple literature-based activities later and a chance to see the nooks and crannies of the building, I was hooked. 

In traditional Admissions Office fashion, that landed me on the SEM mailing list and the rest is history.  After two years performing with the school’s former summer program Broadway at SEM, I, of course, had to shadow.  I was admitted and attended.  Which led to staying with my best friend and her family from sophomore to senior year when my father had to move for his job and I didn’t want to leave.  You see, SEM was my family when mine was far away.  And that connection has only become stronger.  I knew that graduation didn’t mean the end of my bond with Buffalo Seminary, particularly because of the lifelong friends I had made here.

Imagine my surprise, years later, when I heard about a job opening for English teacher only a couple of years after ending up back in Buffalo after multiple other adventures.   Three weeks before the school year started.  A job I swore up and down I would never do.  Oh, and, did I mention that I hadn’t really taught before in the full sense of the word?  Right.  That didn’t stop the inner SEM girl in me, though.  I promptly contacted my former teacher Robin Magavern and found out what I could do to rejoin the SEM community as a faculty member.  Apparently the hiring committee deemed me worthy – or else they were a little crazy, the jury’s still out on that – because here I am.  Thanks, guys. It’s had its ups and downs, but it truly has been a gift.

Why? It sounds a bit Dead Poets’ Society, but SEM really is a community that stretches across time and space.  You will have lifelong friendships not only with classmates, but also with teachers, and with the others you encounter through the school.  I never expected when I first walked in those doors in 7^th grade that one of my best friends from the class of ’99 – Caitlyn Lawton – would  be present in the delivery room to support me when my son, Noah, was born last year and then, for all intents and purposes, become his aunt.  Or that one of my first seniors– the Class of 2008’s very own Catherine Knauss – would come back to work at SEM and end up becoming one of my closest friends.  Or that the girl who I shadowed during eighth grade – you know her as Molly Greene – would join the faculty at SEM the same year I did and that we would both be teaching Freshmen at the time.  Or that my favorite history teacher from high school – SEM legend, Harry Schooley – would become a cherished colleague and then a dear friend.

So, since I have all of these amazing connections at hand, I thought I would do a little crowdsourcing to help me with this speech.  Because, let’s face it, those who do things at SEM, never have to do them alone.  For those of you who don’t know, the inaugural Media and Communications class did a little experiment this year.  We created and sent out a hash tag - #OnceASEMGirlAlwaysASEMGirl - to see how far and wide and under what circumstances it would travel.  With responses ranging from the local environs all the way to France and Norway, as well as from recent alums to graduates in their fifities and retired former faculty members, we discovered that SEM is still very much present in the everyday lives of those on whom it has had an impact.  I re-tweeted that hashtag recently and asked friends of SEM to tell me what they learned here that still helps them in their lives today.  Here’s what several of them said:

“I learned to be honest and [to] take responsibility for my actions.  And to lead!”

“That 21 years after Freshman Orientation, you will still be best friends with someone you met that day.”

“How to be independent enough to get the job done, but I am also not afraid to ask for help when it is needed.”

“Confidence, integrity, critical thinking.”

“I learned that being a strong, intelligent, independent woman is something to be proud of.  Also I learned how to perfectly flip a grilled cheese sandwich without a spatula.”  (We used to be able to go into the kitchen and make food.  I’m pretty sure the health department didn’t know that.  It’s a long story…)

“Never fear your own thoughts, ideas, and aspirations.  Being quiet will get you nowhere.”

“Do not be afraid of making mistakes.”

“Exuberance and laughter are essential.”

“Embrace your own inner weirdness and the importance of caring.”

“Growth and change are not one and the same.”

“Just because you don’t agree with someone, doesn’t mean you can’t be friends.”

Pretty good advice, right?  I agree.  But as I was writing this, I couldn’t shake the sense that something was missing.  I mean, I have my awesome experiences to share with you and I’ve compiled other sound advice to contribute to helping you embark on a new adventure with a support network, but it still felt, somehow…hollow.  And then I realized.  The best part about the last eight years has not only been having the opportunity to return to SEM and working with my unparalleled colleagues and being able to put myself out there, make mistakes, and try new things in the classroom, but it has also been you – my amazing, funny, thoughtful, energetic, intellectually curious, brave students.  The most important thing that I have learned at SEM is what you have taught me.  And those are lessons I’ll never be able to forget.

First, you taught me patience.  Patience with you, with myself, with technology…  Your class, especially.  You are big and bold and loud – let’s face it, this class has a lot of personality.  I keep trying to forget that one class your Freshman year that was so rowdy that I gave about 80% of you red slips, but you keep bringing it up.  But I wouldn’t change that.  You helped me to realize that patience is, indeed, a virtue.  And it has paid off.  Look at you: you are strong, independent, opinionated – still loud – young women who have already been doing incredible things and now you’re about to go out into the world and do even more.  We just had to be patient with you.

You taught me the importance of making people accountable.  I still don’t think your class entirely understands the concept of a deadline.  Just in case, for college, here’s the definition: the latest time or date by which something should be completed.  Synonyms include “time limit,” “finishing date,” target date,” and “cutoff point.”  From the historical: a line drawn around a prison beyond which prisoners were liable to be shot.  Hence, dead line.  Anyway, I realized when I had to be strict with you because you had to commit to something and I realized when I needed to back off so that you could learn the consequences of not following through.  To do that, I had to hold myself accountable to you, which isn’t always easy to do.

I learned that it’s okay to take risks (although that touching the Miss Angell Portrait thing was probably a bad idea since, apparently, the lore is true and it’s now raining on your graduation day…)  You have taken a lot of risks during your years at SEM.  Some of them have paid off – like confronting little injustices that you see happening in your everyday lives.  Some haven’t entirely – going to visit Washington, D.C. during the government shutdown comes to mind, although, judging by your slide show yesterday, you still had a lot of fun.  But you didn’t let the risk of failure scare you.  I’m taking a big risk by moving on from SEM, but, at the moment, it is a move I have to make for my family.  It would be a bigger risk for me if I didn’t try, though.  And you taught me that just because you’re afraid to do something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.  In fact, you always seem to do things in spite of the fear, so maybe I should take that lesson to heart as well. 

I discovered that it’s okay to have fun and to make fun of yourself.  Whether you’re lamenting how your class always seems to get the short end of the stick, particularly on class trips or you’re turning the study hall into a night club complete with glow sticks and bouncers, or if you’re like me, and you try to convince your co-workers to lip sync the final song in Pitch Perfect in the name school spirit, complete with, perhaps unwisely chosen split, fun is key.  You guys are always enjoying yourselves, even if part of that is reveling in a bit of complaining – I won’t miss your loud, whiny sessions in the gallery, to be honest – you manage to do it with a smile and a laugh and you always end up finding the humor in the situation, even if it’s at your own expense.  You will help me remember to keep things fun, somehow.

I could go on and on, but, because I’ve been speaking too long already, I’ll get to the last lesson you taught me.  I learned from you to always be genuine.  You, as a class, do not value beating around the bush.  You call people out on their insincerity.  You like straight talk and straightforwardness.  In the beginning, this meant a lot of missteps and, let’s face it, inappropriateness in your interactions.  Over time, though, you have refined your approach and are generally able to walk the fine line between bold and brazen.  You kept us on our toes.  But you also recognized when we were being reasonable and candid with you and when you were being unreasonable.  No matter what, you always stayed true to yourselves, without compromise.  When I was having trouble writing this, my husband kept reminding me to “be genuine” and true to who I am.  I knew that you would be able to tell if I was trying to be something I’m not and I will remember the importance of that thanks to the example you have set for us.

So, whenever things start to get difficult, remember the lessons that you have learned at SEM and the ones that you have taught each other.  I know I will rely on these experiences when life starts to seem a little too overwhelming.  In a way, we’re both graduating - I’m just on the 12-year plan and doing it for a second time.  On top of all of the academic and communication skills, we have taught each other patience and honesty and bravery and we will be able to use these lessons as foundations for our ever-changing lives.  And even though this is goodbye, it isn’t really.  We may be leaving, but we’ll always be connected because once you’re a SEM girl, you’re always a SEM girl.

Thank you.