A Seat at the Table
Hi everyone, my name is Asher Zemmel and I’m so excited to be speaking here today as your valedictorian for the class of 2022! Or at least that’s what I told my grandparents is happening today — so everyone, if you see them, play along.
To my classmates, I’m so honored to be delivering a graduation speech to you all. Thank you for trusting me with this responsibility. And to the parents who are wondering who I am, I’m the one who your kid tells you is at a party, so you think it’s ok to let them go.
When I was selected to give this speech, I said I wanted to show my gratitude and appreciation for a school that has taught me so much over the years; a school that allowed me to come into my own as a student, a leader, and most importantly a friend; and a school that has always pushed me to be my best self. Unfortunately, I go to Fieldston.
No don’t worry, I’m totally kidding. My time as a Fieldston Eagle for the past 14 years has been nothing but a joy and privilege that I feel so fortunate to have had.
During my time at the Ethical Culture Fieldston School I have not learned what to think, but I have learned how to think: how to challenge my beliefs, how to push myself out of my comfort zone, and yes, for some reason, how to build a canoe. It’s a lot less interesting than you think, I promise.
I am proud to say that I have been a part of a community that never fails to put a smile on my face, even during our grade’s most uncertain times: from the COVID pandemic to a tumultuous political climate, to the mystery of who spread poop on the wall of the girl’s bathroom in third grade, this community has always found a way to come together as one, however messy it may have been along the way. And no, that’s not a joke about the third-grade girl’s bathroom.
I do know however, that none of this growth would have been possible without our fantastic teachers. There are so many wonderful teachers whom I would love to thank, teachers who shaped me into the individual that I am today and made it possible for me to even be able to write and deliver this speech. From Ms. Shustack and Ms. Torres in Pre-K, to Colleen making sure we left Ethical with the skills we need to write a strong essay, to Ms. Stoller’s grammar quizzes, Dr. Blaney and Mr. Montera’s papers, and Ms. Stabenau’s dedication to making us all stronger writers, I quite literally learned the skills I need to write this speech and say thank you to this grade for making my time at Fieldston so special.
When I walked through the doors of 33 Central Park West this past Founder’s Day, I immediately went to the Pre-K hallway where it all began. The hallway was lined with artwork from the students — which in my opinion could’ve been better, I mean come on we’ve all seen a finger paintings before. But as soon as I stepped into my old Pre-K classroom and saw one of those tiny, low-down tables for the students to sit at and talk I was filled with a deep feeling of nostalgia. I missed our games of war, snack times, and our tangential, four-year-old conversations. But I realized that while those days may be behind us, we never really let them go. Those conversations from around the Pre-K table never actually stopped, they just grew along with us. From that one table in the Pre-K classroom to student-organized conversations about social identifiers, politics, and current events in high school, it’s our Fieldston spirit that always kept us, quite literally, at the table. Yes, the conversations got tougher, but so did our classes, our social dynamics, and our lives overall. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to give up my seat at the table in the Pre-K classroom just yet.
Prominently displayed in the auditorium at the Society for Ethical Culture are the words “The Place Where People Meet to Seek the Highest is Holy Ground,” a quote from everybody’s favorite secular humanist, whatever that term actually means, Felix Adler. To me, this quote is less about the words themselves, and more about their location. The passage is emblazoned atop the stage in the auditorium; a room that serves as the meeting place for the society founded by Felix Adler who was against traditional forms of organized religion himself, a room that has statues of Mary and Jesus boldly displayed, and a room that also serves as the synagogue for Congregation Habonim, the synagogue I belong to myself. It’s this confusing mix of religion in a space designed to be secular, with a quote declaring the definition of holy ground as anywhere where enlightenment is sought, that truly embodies Fieldston as an institution. Fieldston is a place where you come as you are and leave as you want to be; a place that doesn’t force you to conform to traditional societal norms, and in fact encourages you to do the opposite.
The Virgin Mary, a Rabbi, and Felix Adler all walk into a bar… it sounds like the setup for a joke that might get me cancelled, but really it’s just a display of the uniqueness of Fieldston. And this uniqueness serves as both a blessing and a curse. The blessing is that we went to Fieldston, the curse is that we are leaving. I’m not speaking to you today as a student at the Ethical Culture Fieldston School, I am speaking to you today as one of the lucky few, lucky 148 to be exact, that now serve as the standard bearers of Fieldston’s values as we go out into the world. Each and every one of us now has the obligation to act in such a way that promotes decency, kindness, respect, and compassion even when it’s not the easy choice to make. But that burden is in and of itself a privilege for us all to carry. Our time at this school, whether it was 14 years or 14 months, was about more than just textbooks and tests, it was about preparing us to join the body politic of Fieldston alumni that proudly serve as the past, current, and future generations of artists, activists, journalists, and judges; chefs, caretakes, lawyers, and lab scientists; doctors, dancers, educators, and executives or really anything else under the sun. That is of course, the Fieldston sun that they changed our logo to four years ago even though nobody asked for that, but I of course digress.
We are the graduating class of 2022. We are the graduating class that never stops making noise. Whether it’s through the valves of the tubas and trombones of jazz band, putting pen to paper for the Fieldston News, or the voices and advocacy of the environmental club, this class has never stayed silent. We always march to the beat of our own drum. It’s that courage to make noise that has brought us here today, and it’s that same brave refusal to never stay silent that will guide us forward as we go through life. I can confidentially say that my time at Fieldston has been 95% incredible… 5% P.E. Ok fine, 97% incredible, I didn’t really go to P.E. anyway. But today is the day our noise on this campus stops. This is it, our time at Fieldston is over.
So no, I won’t be able to go to Riverdeli anymore and order an egg, cheese, avocado, hashbrown, and chipotle mayo on a roll, but I will be able to explain the complex chemistry behind America’s lead poisoning crises. No, I won’t be able to have another beach day on the quad, but I will be able to tell you how Lauryn Hill’s debut album is a prime example of Rousseau’s philosophies on education. And no, I will never be able to yell at another entitled Junior to get off the Senior Grass — that one hurts the most — but I can definitely tell you about the complex geopolitics of Taiwan on the global stage. And that’s because I went to Fieldston.
Yes, the conversations and choices get harder, and yes, we have less oversight as we move on with our lives, but it’s each of our individual responsibilities to hold ourselves accountable and make sure that every day we are choosing to stay true to our Fieldston values. That table in the Pre-K classroom may have started with just five seats, but it’s expanded to fit about 143 more of us.
Going to Fieldston means that we’ve not only been taught that when it looks like there’s no more room at the table, you pull up a chair for yourself and you don’t look back — it also means that those of us with a seat at the table have the imperative to make space for those who don’t, regardless of however messy it may get. And no, that wasn’t another joke about the wall of the third-grade girl’s bathroom. Embrace the mess, make some noise, and pull up a chair! Thank you so much and I know that this class is just getting started.
