On June 8th, we celebrated the Hyla class of 2024 and presented them with their high school diplomas. Throughout the commencement ceremony, each senior stepped to the podium to speak. Their words were full of grace, humor, inspiration, perspective, gratitude, and optimism. We are so proud of you all.

We are also proud to share several excerpts from their commencement speeches. Enjoy.

Gabriella Matriotti

“The future has many unknowns for us……and that can be frightening.

When we look around at the challenges that face us in this fast-changing world, a world where there is crisis at every turn, I am reminded of three things:

1. Having courage when you’re scared is a choice
2. The greatest gift you can give yourself is deciphering what you need, and
3. Having hope throughout is a practice.

If I were to sum up Hyla with one phrase it would be “Hyla puts the person before performance.”

My hope for all of us is that we take this value of ‘putting the human first’ with us. That we connect to our shared humanity before the asks of the world.

After 12 years of hard work and dedication we are brought to this moment. I wish you all the happiness and fulfillment possible. Congratulations class of 2024. We made it.”

Stirling Thornburgh

“I want to begin by thanking the staff and the administrators who have supported us throughout this tumultuous journey known as high school. Each one of you here (and Gardner), has had a unique impact on my life, teaching me lessons that have helped me grow as a student and as an individual. For that I am forever grateful.

As of late, life has felt a little strange. 

It’s weird to believe that none of us up here will be coming back to Hyla in the fall next year. It seems unreal that four years have passed. Perhaps that’s just a byproduct of starting high school during Covid times, but there nonetheless exists this certain feeling of anxiety that time will continue to march on like this, quickly, dragging us along with it.

There’s a quote by Fyodor Dostoevsky that kind of reminds me of this feeling: “I think that if one is faced by inevitable destruction — if a house is falling upon you, for instance — one must feel a great longing to sit down, close one’s eyes and wait, come what may…”

The “inevitable destruction” is the end of the life that has been constructed for us, that which we’ve lived these past four years. We’re set adrift, floating in long awaited freedom that we don’t know what to do with.

It feels as if we’ve been walking on a path for so long that the end seems impossible. But here it is. We stand upon this threshold, to exit the trail, never to return again, and to enter the unknown. It’s kind of terrifying. But that’s what makes it so beautiful. If you’ve only seen the trailhead or the map, you still haven’t seen “the trail”. The trail remains a mere image, a line on a piece of paper. Only by walking the trail do you then gain the perspective necessary to appreciate and understand it. 

By living in the moment we embrace the unknown, whether that be hiking a trail or going to college.

There’s a section from one of my favorite philosophical books, Days with Frog and Toad, which touches on this idea in the story “Alone.” In it, Frog goes away to be alone, and Toad, concerned he has hurt Frog’s feelings, goes looking for him. When Toad finally finds Frog, he asks Frog if he left because he is unhappy: “But Toad,” said Frog. “I am happy. I am very happy. This morning when I woke up I felt good because the sun was shining. I felt good because I was a frog. And I felt good because I have you for a friend. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to think about how fine everything is”

So much of this past year has been focused on the next four years of our lives, but perhaps today, we can instead focus on the here and now, the friends and family who’ve come to honor us and celebrate our departure into the unknown.

I invite you to share a “Frog” moment with me. Feel the sun on your skin, smile at the friends or family around you, and relish in the goodness of this moment.  

Thank you. “

Will Borneman

“Honestly, it feels weird being up here. I guess it still hasn’t kicked in that I’m about to move on from such an important time in my life to something else. My time at Hyla has been the most formative years of my life. Hyla was probably the hardest first day of school I’ve ever had. It was the first day of school after Covid and for many it was a relief but for me it was terrible. I’d grown accustomed to being alone in my room, not having to interact with anyone. I loved being alone. Having to put myself out there again was a change I was frustrated with especially considering my family and I had just moved only a few weeks before school started. There was so much change in my life thrusting me away from the comfort of my own little mental bubble.

It wouldn’t be but a couple years later that I would be diagnosed with Autism. This is important to mention as even with the late diagnosis it had ruled my life up until then. I hated any kind of social interaction not because I didn’t want to but because I didn’t know how. I had to learn step by step on how to socially function again. Looking back I realize just how much support I needed and looking back I realized I would never have had the ability to grow and learn in the way that I did if not for Hyla. 

School is often seen as stagnant and inflexible from the eye of a student. For some, a prison, for others the home of the tedious and the monotonous. And normally that would be true. For me at least. But Hyla was different. 

The first year of the Upper School’s existence it could be said that it was a beacon of flexibility and change. It put me out of my comfort zone. Change for me was hard. But it supported me in any way it could to allow me to grow in that discomfort. I’ve never experienced the care and support from teachers that I have had at Hyla. They showed an interest to see me succeed and I am thankful and to be honest impressed. 

As the teachers would know, I’ve never been an easy student, having either aversions towards some academic subjects or heavy interest in others. I may not have been a bad student but I sure was a confusing one. Regardless, I never felt a falter in this support. Hyla to me was represented in its teachers. And I will always be grateful for them. And I will never forget them.

I guess to sum it all up of what Hyla means to me, I would say it was the academic exception. The exception from my idea that all schools were boring and bad and useless. That’s the most important exception. Because without it, I would not be here today,  standing at a podium receiving a diploma if not for that exception of endless support. Thank you.”