It’s only appropriate that I blog this now, sitting in my AP Lang teacher’s classroom while her juniors do some sort of open response and I dawdle off on my laptop. Today, May 18th, is my very last day of high school. (We get out early as seniors).
I cannot believe today is the day. Today is the last day I get to walk down these hallways and feel like I rule this school as a senior in my grossly entitled confidence. Oh man, this year flew by-all four of these years did. I can’t remember all four years but a lot happened in this place and I remember everything worth remembering.
I remember walking in on my first day and feeling at a complete loss after my dad had just died, but the rush of new people and sudden focal shift made me forget about what I was mourning.
I remember Mr. Seitz, my freshman year history teacher telling me about how things will move on. Then promptly starting the class and diverting my attention to lord knows what. I peaked in that class I think. I gave that class my 110% of effort because when a teacher believes in you to succeed, you better goddamn succeed.
I remember Mr. Keeley and his sarcastic no-tolerance math wizzy-ness. Every time someone said they didn’t know or couldn’t understand how to do something, he would slightly roll his eyes and say “alright guys, this is easy”. No, no Mr. Keeley, this is not easy.
I remember staying after school before a math test with some friends and Mr. Keeley had some prior business so we asked another teacher and she literally could not do it. He made up a problem on a test review so difficult that his colleagues couldn’t even figure it out. Logic. We have none.
I remember Mr. Toussaint junior year in Spanish. He is one of my highlights of high school, definitely. Very seldom do you come across a teacher so passionate and earnest to teach kids. All teachers have a drive to do it, but Mr. Toussaint had the communication skills. I remember staying after school and just having conversations about anything and everything in Spanish so that my language skills would get better. Often he’d leave right after school because if not, he’d hit traffic on the way home. But he still would stay after because he really wanted us to improve. I appreciate that, I really appreciate that.
I remember sitting in AP Lang and debating Machiavelli and all of these absurdly random but somehow relevant prompts. I remember e-mailing Mrs. McMahon in the beginning of the year that I was struggling with some personal issues. I remember her prompt response that if I can’t handle it, then I should drop down. But look at me now, one of the legendary AP lang wash-ups. We made it, didn’t we?
And although senior year isn’t over, I remember rushing to do college applications and sitting in Mrs. Bolcome-Owen’s office going through all of my colleges. I remember coming in and telling her I got rejected from Stanford. There was no emotional tears or anything, just “what’s next?” I appreciate that too. I like that she was ready to move on and in turn, so was I. She made the transition a lot easier.
I remember Mr. Princic’s calc class. He’s another teacher like Mr. Toussaint-he genuinely wants you to improve and learn. No one is as excited about calculus or pencils or running as Mr. Princic. 4 years (or rather 3.5 years) years of math team and a year of calc has really showed me that no teacher is as understanding and relatable as Mr. Princic is. You could ask him how to do a simple problem a million ways and he would find a new way to teach you every time.
I remember a lot of things about high school that I’m going to miss.
- Mr. Mawn’s statistics class was great. As WMHS’ first ap stats class, we did pretty damn well. Thank-you for sticking with us and really kicking our asses into gear when we needed it. Stats was hard but after that class, I would most definitely take his class again and even study it in college. It changed my outlook on the world.
- Mr. Kaufman’s chemistry class…well, if you don’t know who Mr. Kaufman, or Grampa Kaufman as I call him, he’s the biggest force. I hated him for a solid month before I realized he just loves to push us. Every time I see him, I have to tell him to “take a long walk off a short pier” – which would be morbid, awful, and rude if you didn’t know that this is Kaufman’s key phrase. Thanks for lightening up the mood and teaching me avacado’s number. Thumbs up to you grampa.
- I never had Mr. Gangi for English or any class, but he listened to my rants and was a great mentor and teacher for any problem I had. When I wanted to become involved in the teachers’ work-to-contract, he let me in on the details and let me know. He spoke to me like a fellow concerned person, not a student in over her head. I totally was though. Thanks for being the best teacher I never had.
- Mrs. Gilbertie’s italian class of 2017, which I happened to stumble into as a year older, shout out to you guys. That class has been my safe haven and highlight of the day for 3 years. My little corner in class has become a home and that class has been the best way to end everyday of senior year. Walking out 7th period today, I’m glad it’ll be on the highest note.
There are so many teachers and people in this school that I want to thank and so few words. But Woburn High, you turned me into the person I am. I’m so thankful and grateful for all the opportunities, experiences, and friendships I’ve made with everyone. With my last day of school coming to a close, it feels surreal.
Thank-you to all of my teachers and all of the faculty that have helped me along the way. Keep in touch, I’ll always be a Tanner at heart.