Reanna Bilbao:
HELLO Fieldston administration, faculty, families, friends, and to the ECFS class of 2025—HOW YOU ZOIN? You all look incredible, and even if you don’t, it’s okay because I’m not wearing my glasses right now. It is an honor to speak in front of you all today, and I am incredibly grateful to do so, so thank you to my peers and my 30+ personal Google accounts I used to vote for myself as speaker. (I’m just kidding, by the way).
When writing this speech, I couldn’t stop thinking about a class I had this year, led by a substitute teacher who was also a former radio show host. One of my peers asked, “How do you keep an audience engaged?” to which he responded, “If you don’t capture your audience’s attention within the first two seconds, you’re going to lose them.” So if I’ve already lost you, then I’m sorry because I still have about 37 more pages to go.
No matter how much time I spent taking notes on other commencement speeches, I was completely lost in writing this speech. I mean, how was I supposed to make a day intended to celebrate 152 other students about myself? After having done so at every school-wide event these past few years, I have finally decided I should probably share this moment with you all.
Within the past two years, I’ve had several opportunities to speak at a Fieldston podium. After each time, my main takeaway was wishing I had brought a stepstool.
I’ve also noticed that the administration and my dean PRAY I don’t go off script when handed the microphone. Actually, one of the ONLY guidelines for this speech was to stick to what I wrote—a challenge I am not going to pretend that I want to follow—but I will comply with in the best interest of receiving a diploma… and I also don’t want to get an “I’m not mad, just disappointed” look from Dr. Bobo. And….. after all we’ve put Dean Buccello through this year, I don’t want to give her any surprises in our last moments with her as our Dean.
You may be wondering why I would even want to go off script. Throughout my time at Fieldston, I’ve realized that sticking to a script won’t capture complete authenticity or allow me to respond to the yawning in the audience. I know how ironic it is for me to be sharing this with you since I’m using a script, but I’ve realized that the power of a message lies not just in words, but also in how they’re delivered.
After countless incredible, quick-thinking assembly speakers (shoutout Nadia and Morris) and countless experiences improvising speeches of my own, I’ve learned that going off script works when you’re prepared. And when you’re prepared—whether for a class presentation, concert, musical, or sports game—you perform confidently, with confidence that is grounded in rigorous studies, hours of rehearsal, and months of practice.
Each of us here has witnessed how thorough and diligent preparation transforms and moves audiences. So today, we come together to celebrate how we, the Fieldston class of 2025, have invested our unique and diverse talents into this community. And our community continues to thrive because of the opportunities we have been offered to share who we are with one another.
That is why, as we spend our last moments as Fieldston students, I ask you to walk out into the world without a script because you all are prepared to. Our Fieldston education has readied us to face the questions, challenges, and opportunities that our world has to offer. I am confident that we all are going to continue to engage and captivate our future audiences with originality, passion, and purpose, without having to hold a piece of paper to remind us what values and morals we hold.
In case you weren’t going to take my advice that I have so graciously shared with all of you, I called up my good friend Felix Adler for some words of wisdom to back me up, to which he offered no response. But in the age of the internet, I was able to track down one of his many quotes. I guess he wasn’t that concerned about his digital footprint.
According to BrainyQuote.com, Felix Adler once said, “The freedom of thought is a sacred right of every individual man, and diversity will continue to increase with the progress, refinement, and differentiation of the human intellect.” This quote emphasizes the need for free thinking, especially during times when that feels suppressed.
So if you’re not going to take my advice, I hope that you will take Felix Adler’s. Each of our strengths and approaches to problem solving is what will create change in the world, because that is what Fieldston students do, we create change. I mean, for example, now Promposals have to be approved because students have been going ALL out. Let me say it again, they have been going ALL OUT…
And if you haven’t seen a Fieldston promposal, let me just say, zamn, now I want to see what your MARRIAGE proposals are going to be like. And honestly, I think that I can appreciate your efforts even more because at this point of the year, our inboxes were filled with emails with the subject “Please complete all outstanding work”, and we were still getting warned about possibly being on the students of concern list. And everyone is here graduating, so good job for multitasking, I guess…
And because you can multitask in the span of 2 weeks, I am confident that you all will continue to make an impact on the world by changing it for the better beyond the Fieldston community—all without a script—because it is what we have been practicing and preparing to do. And do you want to know what I think about scripts? They’re only a safety option, something to fall back on. They don’t have the answers for everything. You won’t have a script to answer the unexpected challenges that life has to offer.
Remember, it’s okay not to have all the answers, because the truth is, you don’t. But you are ready to learn them.
As we near the moments where we will be handed our diplomas and throw our caps in the air, we must recognize that we are prepared to leave Fieldston grounds, ready to approach the world through taking action and expressing ourselves. Even when comfort feels like the safer option, I encourage you to take that risk. Go off script, change the world in ways that are new to you, and most importantly, in ways that history asks you to.
Finally, I would like to dedicate the last part of my speech to thanking my family. I’m sorry this speech couldn’t be a surprise- I knew we would not be able to make it out of the house on time if I hadn’t told anybody, because running on Filipino time means the only place we’re early to is the airport.
To my sister who has dealt with people confusing us with one another for the past 3 years, and thanks for begging the bus driver to wait for me in the mornings. And to my parents, salamat po. There is not a day that goes by where I do not think about the hard work that came before and after your journey from the Philippines to the United States, which has allowed me to stand here today. I am so thankful for the sacrifices that you have made, even if that meant giving up your own personal dreams and goals so that I could achieve mine.
So, to the class of 2025 (you know), I am so grateful that we experienced Fieldston together. We’ve seen almost every version of ourselves, and I can’t wait for you to vote for me as president in 17 years. Thank you, and congratulations!
Alkis Karmpaliotis:
Friends, families, guests, teachers, administrators, and Class of 2025—
It is an honor and privilege to be standing here today before you all.
I want to begin with a shout out to all the parents here today, to whom we owe a big chunk of our journey, as well as the facilities team who made this event happen and keep our school running smoothly every day.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve had the opportunity to do a lot of reflecting. On myself, on this class, on who we’ve been, who we are, and who we might one day become.
It all started a few weeks ago, when we opened the letters we had written as freshmen to our senior selves.
For a moment, the whole campus went still. Some people cried, others softly cringed. Some sat with friends and read aloud.
When I read mine, I’ll be honest—it was a little painful. But that discomfort that I felt while coming face to face with my past self quickly gave way to perspective. On how far I and we have all come.
I’ve been many different people at Fieldston, from the shy new kid to the stressed-out high-schooler to the lazy senior. Perhaps you all have similar stories. Versions of yourself that you think back to and cringe. Episodes of your life that you simply cannot believe happened.
And, let’s be honest— we’ve all uttered the words “I cannot wait to graduate” at least once, or twice… or a hundred times.
Yet, here we are.
And as I look out at all of you, what strikes me most isn’t the accolades and accomplishments—though there are many to speak of. It’s the way we’ve grown, found ourselves, and brought that growth to life alongside one another.
It’s the 16 seniors who lit up the stage in our incredible production of Pippin, some of whom began their Fieldston careers as shy ensemble members in Chicago just four years ago, others as far back as the EC Seussical, as little kids in oversized costumes only just learning to memorize lines.
It’s our athletes, many of whom started their journeys on the JV bench, who after years of hard work and development, led our teams to championships in field hockey, basketball, baseball, not to mention some incredible playoff runs in lacrosse and soccer.
It’s even our student government, who beat the “FSG does nothing” allegations by planning a beautiful senior sunrise for us all to enjoy. (Now, most of us didn’t make it in time to actually catch the sunrise… but that’s besides the point.)
And it’s from these stories of growth and transformation that I’ve learned my biggest lessons—from the examples you set every day.
To embrace failure and criticism and use them as stepping stones to something better. To be open-minded and learn from others, even—especially—when they don’t agree with you. To lead with empathy and speak with courage.
That no one is perfect. And that to burden yourself with the idea of perfection is to set yourself up for disappointment. So the best we can do is accept our imperfections, and keep showing up anyways. Trying—each day— to be a little better than we were the day before.
That’s what Fieldston has taught me.
Now, I won’t lie to you— I sometimes question if I’m really ready to leave this place, and I imagine many of you feel the same way.
For over a decade, I’ve walked these halls, crossed this quad, and sat in these classrooms. What will I do without the late nights playing GeoGuessr when I should be studying for tests? Thursday mornings without falling asleep at assembly only to have my phone taken by Ms. Moreno? An inbox devoid of emails from Sandra Wang about lost items and attendance? Or that uniquely “Fieldston” feeling of walking into school at 8 a.m., on like four hours of sleep, only to be jolted awake by Morris Ervin leading us in a motivational chant?
The truth is—I don’t have the answer.
But if there’s one thing I take with me from Fieldston, it’s that you don’t always need to have all the answers. To have doubt, to be imperfect, is to be alive.
So I’ll leave you with this: If you had to write another letter right now to your future self, four years, ten years, twenty years from now, what would it say?
That question is not meant to burden you with rigid expectations. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s an invitation to get excited about your future, and remind you that the goal isn’t perfection, but continual evolution.
To be a work-in-progress, even if, at times, you don’t know where the road ahead is leading you, means you’ll always have somewhere to go and something to live for. So, take a breath, relax, celebrate this incredible milestone, embrace the uncertainty that lies ahead, while remembering always that true joy and purpose are found in the journey.
Because if you do that, you’ll become one day the person who looks back on today’s ceremony, just as you looked back at your cringey freshman self a few weeks ago, and whisper those powerful, life-defining words: “Wow, I’ve come so far!”
Class of 2025… Fieldston… you have been my home for most of my life. And, wherever I go, wherever my journey takes me, I’ll always carry you with me in my heart and consider myself lucky to have called you my family.
The best family I could have ever asked for.
Thank you.
Natalia Posen:
Last Wednesday, the seniors who graduated from Ethical Culture revisited the building on Central Park West. We took a trip down memory lane, speaking with former teachers, enjoying a final meal in the cafeteria, and nostalgically roaming the playground on the roof. I especially loved looking back at our fifth grade yearbook, in which we each designed one page and wrote a small blurb about our time at Ethical. I started mine with: “I recently turned 11 and I’m excited for the years to come when I’m older than 11 too. Earlier in the year we read a story about when you are 11, you are also all the ages before 11. You are 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11 years old. You act like all of those ages. I think this is accurate.”
I still think this is accurate. But now that we’re 7 years older, we get to act like a few more ages than just 11. As a senior class, I believe we are a mosaic of every age, every memory, and every interaction that we’ve experienced at Fieldston.
Even today, some of you are still the fifth graders that spent your recesses making robots in Lan’s computer room, which led you to become the ninth graders who brought AIM Robotics to Fieldston, forming the school’s very first robotics team. Some part of you are the fifth graders who worked a bake sale to donate money to fight climate change, allowing you to be the sixth graders who, dismayed that the Fieldston Tree logo was traded for a sun, created and signed petitions to revive it. While our twelve-year-old activist effort was entirely unsuccessful, it laid the foundation for our seventeen-year-old activism, leading mental health clubs, organizing assemblies on climate awareness, and spearheading a Special Olympics event on campus. And of course, some of you are the same third graders who ran to nurse Sue for imaginary headaches, preparing you to be the second semester seniors whose inboxes are filled with “missing D band” emails from Sandra Wang.
Although we may still retain a part of our elementary school selves at heart, we have also grown immensely during our time at Fieldston. We have grown from being unruly STS students, annoyed at our leaders for telling us to focus, to now becoming those very leaders, frustrated that our students just won’t listen to us. We’ve grown closer together as a grade, forming lasting friendships with classmates we hardly knew only a couple years before. We’ve evolved past obsessions with toys like fidget spinners, trading them for a new toy — our phones, which, like fidget spinners, have also been banned from classrooms.
As much as we have been shaped by our positive memories, our mosaic has also been shaped by the obstacles that we’ve overcome. For example, we could only be the graduates we are today after overcoming embarrassing talent show performances, like my and Georgia’s fourth grade rendition of “One Call Away” by Charlie Puth, which showed some of us that maybe we didn’t have a future in music, and maybe that’s okay. This taught us how to recognize our strengths and weaknesses, which we carried on through high school, helping us choose whether to be an art major, varsity athlete, actor, or all of the above. We persevered through a four hour long river rafting trip without a wave (or end) in sight. This taught us to push through the hard moments, even when we have no clue when it will get easier. We suffered tragic Splashin’ eliminations after forgetting to wear our goggles or floaties. This taught us to always be prepared, because you never know what life will throw at you. When faced with the sad reality that it was our final day of classes at Fieldston, we pushed our lunch tables together to enjoy (our own version of) the last supper. This taught us that we can always make the best of any moment, no matter how sad.
There’s one last piece to our mosaic that cannot go unacknowledged. It’s the people who have helped us form it.
While we may stand before you polished and accomplished now, our families will tell you that it wasn’t always a straight line to get to this point. Growing up isn’t easy; there were hard moments when our families scraped us up off the floor: when we missed our friends so deeply during COVID, when we didn’t make the team, when we didn’t get the grade no matter how hard we tried. Our families always told us we could — they told us that our mosaics didn’t have to be polished in order for them to be beautiful. We want to thank you for believing in us, and picking this supportive community for us to grow in when we were too young to know any better.
Our teachers have guided us in our most difficult moments, celebrated us in our best, and inspired us. I asked the senior class if they could thank one teacher for anything, who it would be and why. I received an overwhelming number of responses, which is a testament to how impactful each and every Fieldston teacher is. It was impossible to include every teacher mentioned, but here are just a few examples that represent our appreciation. On behalf of the class of 2025, “thank you Ms. Hanson for teaching us to be curious, thank you Mr. Waldman for sharing your passion with us and your commitment to us, thank you Mr. Montera for your contagious energy and stories, thank you Ms. Paterson for telling us that it will all be okay, thank you Dr. Church for the waffle parties, never taking yourself too seriously” and personally from me, thank you for sending the school psychologist Dr. Oppenheimer, to check on me when I was publicly crying on the quad.
I closed my fifth grade yearbook entry by bidding my farewell to Ethical Culture. I wrote: “Being at Ethical culture has been such an amazing journey. Ethical Culture is a fantastic school that teaches kids much more than how to do math and to write with expression. It shapes them into better people. Ethical Culture has shaped me into a smart, ethical person. Thank you Ethical Culture for giving me such a great gift, the gift of education.”
I must say, I was an incredibly insightful fifth grader! I recognized something about Fieldston that is confirmed every day I spend on this campus. Beyond the classroom, it’s taught me how to view the world, take on hard challenges, grow from them, and thank the people who got us there. Our mosaic will expand and become more complex as we grow older, but they will still embody Fieldston values and experiences at their core. As we venture off into different states and countries as graduates, we will still be the fourth graders who rehearsed and performed the 50 states song, and the seventh graders who memorized the world map. Everything we, the class of 2025, will become, is built on the foundation of what we learned climbing those worn white marble steps at Ethical where so many little feet had stepped before us, on this beautiful quad, where we’ve spent countless hours just sitting and enjoying each other’s company (listening to music on our contraband speakers), and in these historic classrooms, which have watched us grow into who we are proud to be today.
Thank you again, teachers and families. And most importantly, congratulations, class of 2025. I can’t wait to see how our mosaics develop as we conquer this next chapter of our lives.
