“You have the power to change the world, whether through grand gestures, or quiet moments of compassion,” RSU 21 Superintendent of Schools Dr. Terri Cooper told Kennebunk High School’s Class of 2025 at the school’s sesquicentennial (150th) graduation ceremony earlier this month. She later added that the day was “not an ending, but a beginning.”
When I heard several months ago that the Class of 1975 was going to get together, I wasn’t sure I’d attend, particularly when I learned the date was the day before the commencement ceremony at the school where I’ve taught for the past 23 years. It’s a lengthy drive to where I grew up, so I’d have had a reasonable excuse for begging off. But after learning attendees would be coming from, among other places, North Carolina, Texas, Virginia, Colorado, Missouri, and California, well, being reluctant to make a mere 470-mile round trip from Maine sounded pretty weak.
Thankfully name tags had been provided, which was fortunate, since most of my erstwhile classmates had been frozen in my mind’s eye as 18-year-olds. Five decades of living can radically change a person’s outer shell; they’ve definitely altered mine. There have been other less noticeable physical changes in our chronological peers as well. I quickly lost count of our class’s collective number of joint replacement surgeries.
At one point I found myself renewing acquaintances with a circle of six people I had ridden the morning kindergarten bus with – in 1962!
There wasn’t nearly enough time to touch base with everyone I wanted to, even if I hadn’t gotten lost on some local back roads and arrived 45 minutes late. Each attending alumnus has lived (and is living) a unique and remarkable life.
I heard about personal and professional successes and setbacks from teachers, bankers, social workers, lawyers, and accountants. I visited with widows, widowers, divorcees, couples who’ve been wed for 40-plus years, and individuals who’ve never married. A significant number of attendees still reside around where we grew up; including at least one who lives in the house he was raised in.
Some Class of 75er’s have children nearing 50 years old; others have multiple grandchildren, and at least one has three children still attending college. Nearly all have lost parents, although I did learn of two still-extant mothers-of-classmates (ages 99 and 98), along with a 95-year-old dad. An unlucky few have experienced the excruciating pain of losing a child, but in the face of that unimaginable tragedy discovered strength and resilience they were previously unaware that they possessed.
The level of energy in the room that afternoon was high, although maybe that was to be expected, since those living less happily most likely passed on coming to the event. Perhaps another reason for the positive vibes: not one person, or at least no one I interacted with, uttered a word about politics.
I found myself counting my blessings the next afternoon. Not everyone gets to go to a festive high school graduation and a 50th class reunion on the same weekend.
The Class of 2025 is full of eager young people who can’t wait to start making their mark on the world, be it through grand gestures or quiet moments of compassion. Which, oddly enough, is exactly what the remaining members of the Class of 1975 are still aspiring to do as well. We’ve just got a little less time remaining to make our impactful contribution(s). <
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