Graduation: Class President Adam Offitzer's Speech

On November 22nd, 1995, when all of us were cute little pre-schoolers; before we had to deal with finals, prom dates, and pimples, a new production studio called Pixar released its first movie. Our parents all bought tickets (for only 4 dollars!) and dragged us to see Toy Story, which captured the imaginations of those young and old with its messages of youth and unity.

Fifteen years have passed. We're all fifteen years older. And this weekend, the number one movie in the country was Toy Story…3. For fifteen dollars a ticket! But instead of picking up where the last two left off, Andy has aged along with us and is packing for college. Like so many college-bound teens, he has replaced his toys with an electric razor and a shiny 13-inch MacBook Pro. But unbeknownst to Andy, who still cares about Buzz, Woody, and the gang, his mom dumps them at a daycare center, and he desperately searches for them before he heads off to school.

There are two lessons we can learn from this story. One: make sure your momma doesn't throw away your toys! Unless it's a Furby – definitely throw out your Furby.

The more important lesson, is that even though Andy's four years at high school have not been shown on the big screen; even though we don't see him dealing with Naviance, transcript requests, and the common app, we know what he's going through. And we know, too, that nervous feeling about heading to college and leaving behind your identity, changing who you are and losing the things that made your childhood so great. Leaving for "the real world" does not mean that we have to leave our sense of humor, our youth, and our childhood behind.

Now, I'm not recommending you bring your toys to college, or write your college thesis paper on an etch-a-sketch (unless you're really good at etch-a-sketching). But I am saying that we have been allowed to carry on a youthful spirit in high school; through lunch dance-offs and mole day balloons, spirit weeks and class picnics, through nights at the best school dance ever the Wintacular Spectacular, and of course nights at a little place called the Skyview Manor Motel. And this youthful spirit should stay with us as we move on up, and look to the future.

I bring up our future because, Class of 2010, it is time. Time to leave Scotch Plains-Fanwood once and for all. We have played our last pickleball game, eaten our last lunch in the cafeteria, and heard our final 2:24 bell.

Freshman year feels like it was just yesterday, huh? No. It feels more like forever ago. On day one of school I sat in class with some fellow friends from Terrill and some strange creatures from the world of PARK. Over the course of the year I began to learn the ways of the Park, speak their language, and I found that they were not so different after all.

I think everyone had the same epiphany as me. Now, it's weird to think of life without our closest friends, from whichever school they went to. We have become one grade, one class, and we all love each other more than Mr. Sarcona loves saying "mmkay poopsie."

And next year, we're all gone. We're scattered amongst the 50 states, leading new lives and meeting new people.

But if we are, in fact, "starting over" next year, then were our four years here all for nothing? Not at all.

Ironically enough, it is my favorite philosopher and prophet Kanye West, someone who often supports dropping out of educational institutions, who may have best summed up the entire high school experience. He says: "You graduate when you make it up outta the streets. From the moments of pain, look how far we done came, haters saying ya changed, now ya doing ya thing."

First of all, it's clear that Kanye did not have Mrs. Brand as his English teacher, because "look how far we done came" does not make grammatical sense. But Kanye is right. We've made it up outta the streets. We've come quite a long way. We're doing our thing. Homie, this ish is basic, welcome to graduation.

Think of high school as our own personal headquarters for growing up. We've all been challenged and tested, dealing with the good, the bad, and the JRP. And high school's highs and lows extend beyond the classroom. We learn how to deal with relationship issues and family issues. Essentially, we learn how to deal with people. Many of us have come to balance our time between friends, to get to know members of every social scene.

What I'm trying to say is: High school was practice. It was a learning environment, not just academically but socially. We have made our closest friends here, and unlike generations before us it will be easy to keep in touch via facebook, yahoospace, googleskype and iPads. Speaking of iPads, everyone look under your chairs, you might find a pretty great graduation present from the school!

Come on, you know we don't have the budget for that. Back to my point. The incredible thing about growing up in this era is that we don't really have to say goodbye. Yes, we can still cry, still hug each other with the firm grip we've developed from all those push-ups in gym (I actually did 5 once!). But all of these social networking outlets, and texting, and video-chatting, will allow us to actually stay true to the "keep in touch" requests written in our yearbooks. Your however many facebook friends will always be able to see pictures of you whenever they feel like stalking, and somehow, that is creepy and cool at the same time. Mostly creepy. They'll also be able to see you become fans of pages like "every time I play Manhunt I have to go pee." So true, right?

But make no mistake – the time we truly value with our high school friends …that's all coming to an end. As great as Facebook and other networking tools are, they can be artificial. Fertilizing someone's crops on Farmville is not the same as physically sharing your Chips Ahoy chewy at lunch. Then again, I would never share my Chips Ahoy chewy.

Additionally, things that have become part of the daily routine for us will soon become nostalgic memories of our four years here. In college, teachers don't wish you a "happy hump day" every Wednesday. They aren't even called teachers! In college, there are no dance-offs at lunch. There are no fake hallways painted on walls for silly little freshmen to walk into. Like it or not, you're going to miss some of these small things here at the high school, even things that you now find childish. Because these are the things that keep us sane and keep us grounded. Spiffy High has provided us with an incredible amount of freedom, and we've been able to maintain that youthful energy that we all have within us. Buzz, Woody, and Mr. Potato Head would be proud.

But just as we might lose a little bit of our spirit as we move into college and the workforce, we also lose each other…we lose this group and the things that have collectively made our class unique. We have earned the respect of our administration and teachers, along with the admiration of underclassmen. We are known for being mature, and in the words of Mrs. Schiller, "classy." We may not all LOVE each other, but we really do get along. I want everybody to look to your left, and look to your right- pff, just kidding, that's really stupid, keep looking at me. 

Just like every other school, we have our social groups - our jocks, our mean girls, our band kids. But unlike others, our jocks aren't jerks. And our "mean girls"? They're actually pretty nice. Our band kids – well, they're band kids! And they just happen to be the best in the state.

Although these groups can definitely be distinguished from each other, they all blend together, as our grade consistently tends to branch out – prom weekend was a perfect, however messy, example of this. There's a general presence of friendliness, of camaraderie, amongst everyone. And that, too, will be missed next year.

So it isn't just Andy that we can relate to in Toy Story 3. As he heads to school, the toys experience an adventure of their own at the daycare center, and they miss Andy so much that they break out to get back with him. Says one critic, the movie "is a rare meditation on the connections that make us human and the value we place on those connections, and an adventure film in which the greatest treasure you can find is a place called home filled with friends you love." I would argue that those connections are the people sitting with us today, and that the place called home with friends you love is right here in Scotch Plains-Fanwood.

But enough of this mushy-gushy stuff. Here's where I'm going with this: yes, at many points, high school did stink. Many times it stunk incredibly badly. Too often there was stress, conflict, and pressure.

But! And it's a big but. High school was also awesome. It was four years of incredible friendships, great education, and the development of our independence.

More than anything, it was fun. We're still kids. High school might have been when you had your first girlfriend, went to your first big house party, got your first car, or unfortunately, got into your first car accident. It might have been when you experienced the joy of Texas Cheese Fries at Chili's, played intramural volleyball, headed to the shore, or a ski slope, or even just downtown to grab a slice of pizza, all in the company of good friends. High school was filled with failure and success. It was practice for the rest of our lives, a breeding ground for the young adults who will shape our country's future.

But more than anything, whatever high school was for you, you, or you, there is only one thing that high school is now: over. High school is over. But as Drake would say, our lives are: "far from over." And as we maintain the youthful, optimistic spirit that we've had all throughout high school, just like our toy-obsessed buddy Andy, we also do need to look to the future, continuing to grow, mature, and pursue our goals. But achieving those goals won't be a problem for us. Because if we all stay on the path that we're on, I know where each and every member of this phenomenal class, the class of 2010, is going: "to infinity and beyond."

I now declare the class of 2010 as alumni of Scotch Plains-Fanwood High School. [mortar boards thrown to the air]