Example 1: High school class president, inspiring with a few laughs, about 4 to 5 minutes
691 words · about 5 min spoken
Good evening, faculty and staff, families, and my fellow graduates of the Class of 2027.
I want to start with a question. Does anyone remember taking midterms in a coat and gloves? Sophomore year, the heat broke in January, and we sat there trying to remember the quadratic formula with frozen fingers. Ms. Ferreira walked around handing out hand warmers like they were candy. I think we all passed that day on pure gratitude and a little bit of warmth.
That's what this class is like. Things go wrong, and we make it work anyway.
Think about it. We won the homecoming hallway contest all four years. All four. And we did it with the worst glue gun skills in school history. Nothing we built was straight. Some of it was probably still stuck to the floor. But we showed up every year, and we made so much noise that the judges could not look away. That's even where our class motto came from, a sign someone made for that hallway: "Still here, still loud."
And we have been. Our freshman year was split between online and in-person, so half of us didn't even meet until sophomore year. We said goodbye to Mr. Haddad, our longtime principal, and then had two interim principals in one year. And our marching band's buses broke down on the way to the state competition. Did they go home? No. They performed two hours late, in borrowed uniforms. That is the most Lantern Hill thing I have ever heard.
And do you remember the senior sunrise? 180 of us on the football field at 6 a.m., in pajamas. Nobody could get the speaker to work. So we just sang. Badly. Together. Honestly, it was perfect.
Here is what I have learned from all of this. You don't have to have it all figured out to be on the right track. Showing up, even when you're unsure, counts for more than having a perfect plan.
I know this because of something that happened to me. Freshman year, I ran for class president and lost by eleven votes. Eleven. I almost didn't run again. I told myself it wasn't for me. Then my little brother asked me a simple question: why would I quit something I wanted after one try?
I didn't have a good answer. So I ran again sophomore year, and I won. And then I spent three years learning what the job really is. Most of it is just showing up to meetings nobody else wants to go to. That's it. No magic. You sit in the chair, you listen, you come back next week. That's how things get done.
Now, I have some people to thank. To the teachers who stayed late for test prep and college essays, especially Ms. Ferreira and Coach Barlow: you gave us your time when you could have gone home. To the custodians and the cafeteria staff, especially Ms. Rosalind, who knew every single student's name: you made this building feel like home. And to the parents, grandparents, and guardians who drove us everywhere for four years: thank you. We saw every early morning and every long wait in the parking lot. We just didn't always say so.
Class of 2027, look at where we are going. Some of us are headed to college. Some into the trades. Two of us are enlisting, and we are so proud of you. A few are taking a year to work and figure things out. Every one of those paths is a good one.
I don't know exactly what is waiting for each of us. Neither do you. That's okay. My hope is that you find people who make you feel at home, the way this class made me feel. And I hope that when things get hard, and they will, you keep showing up.
Because we know how to do that. We did it in coats and gloves. We did it with crooked decorations and broken buses and a speaker that didn't work.
So wherever you go, take this with you. Still here. Still loud.
Congratulations, Class of 2027. Thank you.
What the writer told Toastful to get this speech
- Speaker
- Tavita, student speaker or class president
- Class Memories
- Sophomore year, the heat broke in January and we took midterms in coats and gloves, and Ms. Ferreira handed out hand warmers like they were candy. Our class won the homecoming hallway contest all four years with the worst glue gun skills in school history. And everybody remembers the senior sunrise, when 180 of us sat on the football field at 6 a.m. in pajamas and nobody could get the speaker to work, so we just sang badly together.
- Challenges
- Our freshman year was split between online and in-person, so half of us didn't meet until sophomore year. We lost our longtime principal, Mr. Haddad, to retirement and had two interim principals in one year. The marching band's buses broke down on the way to the state competition, and they performed anyway, two hours late, in borrowed uniforms.
- Thank-yous
- The teachers who stayed late for test prep and college essays, especially Ms. Ferreira in English and Coach Barlow. The custodians and cafeteria staff, particularly Ms. Rosalind, who knew every single student's name. And the parents, grandparents and guardians who drove us everywhere for four years.
- Message
- You don't have to have it all figured out to be on the right track. Showing up, even when you're unsure, counts for more than having a perfect plan.
- Personal
- I ran for class president freshman year and lost by eleven votes. I almost didn't run again, but my little brother asked why I quit something I wanted after one try. I ran again sophomore year and won, and I spent three years learning that most of the job is just showing up to meetings nobody else wants to go to.
- Looking ahead
- Some of us are going to college, some into the trades, two are enlisting, a few are taking a year to work and figure things out. I hope everyone finds people who make them feel at home, like this class did for me, and keeps showing up even when it's hard.
- Extras
- Our class motto is 'Still here, still loud,' from a sign someone made for the hallway contest.