All’s well that ends better

High school, where dreams are sent to die, was a transformative experience and, unfortunately, barely unique to any of us, which means our parents did, in fact, know what was up. We entered these barren hallways as lanky, nervous freshmen in face masks coming out of a year and a half of schooling from the comforts of our beds (talking teachers are very conducive to ASMR-induced naps). And yet, look at us now; I, at least, believe my high school experience was wildly successful. I won’t dare speak for everyone else, though.

Over these past four years, dozens of the teachers and administrators in the audience have imparted a wealth of knowledge (the first page of a Google search) and advice (if you were a teenager before flip phones … please stop). However, you all somehow managed to offset any inspirational or meaningful impact by assigning 10 hours of homework per week. 

Thank you, truly, for ensuring I had no social life. The academic preparation I acquired from your busy work stands far above my social skills, all thanks to your dedication to helping get me “ready for college.” 

Thank you, also, for answering all my philosophical questions and lesson-related criticism — except, of course, for “Why can’t an 89.994% be rounded up?” I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as a teacher who thinks their grade of 89.994% was entirely objective when I knew, deep down, that .994 was subjectively based on the fact they disliked me because I put in the bare minimum effort and still ended up on top. Sorry fellas, I can’t help that I’m a humble genius.

Now, whether or not I will actually use any of the revolutionary ideas we learned in class, I will certainly be using my vast knowledge in arithmetic to calculate the downhill slope of my life once I not only have to go through four years of debt-inducing school, but will also have to worry about sustaining the roof over my head. 

In the wise words of comedian Neal Brennan, “Student loans are basically small business loans, and the business is you. And you’re maybe not such a great business.” Amen.

I’d also like to extend a shoutout to anyone and everyone who had me in their group projects — you’re welcome; I’d hate to be your future spouse the way you put in no effort. I’m well aware I saved your grade — because you would not shut up about how you “clutched up” and “pulled through.” In the future, please “pull out” because I do not want anyone else’s kids to go through what I did.

And to the rest of the class: In the wise words of Bilbo Baggins “I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.” Most of you are decent people but a select few I firmly believe were put on this Earth as some sort of divine test for me. I do wish everyone I spent these past years with gets what they deserve in life, for better or for worse.

To finish it off: We are going to face challenges and adversity in our future; teachers won’t curve our tests and frat parties will make our shoes sticky. But I want us all to remember we have faced worse. From the tendrils of COVID-19 to the death of Queen Elizabeth II and a ridiculous string of American politics in action, it can’t be that much worse.

At the end of the day, all’s well that ends better. 

Thank you Carlmont High School and congratulations Class of 2025!

Jackson Sneeringer, academic weapon and high school athlete extraordinaire, signing off.

Jackson Sneeringer is a recent graduate of Carlmont High School in Belmont. Student News appears in the weekend edition. You can email Student News at news@smdailyjournal.com.