Salutatorian's Speech: Facebook As Primary Source for Memories

Salutatorian, Alexandra Hartley, reflected on the past as the 2011 Montville Township High School graduating class prepared for the future. Her speech is reprinted here.

When I sat down to write this speech, I thought talking about the past would be easy. After all, I am going to be a history major. Three lattes and five drafts ending with “Nope, not this” later, I realized that was not the case. Taking a well-deserved Facebook break, I suddenly realized something. The items we chose to share online—our photos, our stories, our friendships—are primary sources attesting to the triumphs and tragedies of the past four years.

When I look at previous status updates, my classmates’ passion for our extracurricular activities becomes evident. I see from my own Facebook, November 2, 2007: “Northern State Marching Band Champions. I will never forget tonight.” From the  status of my good friend Alice Huang, Earth Club president: “I love my Earthies.” And then of course there are the statuses about wrestling match whiteouts and  photos of our state championship soccer games. Everyone in the Montville network will agree that, in almost every activity, you can’t hide from Mustang pride.

And then there are the statuses about schoolwork. I laugh as I look at my updates from the past year: “Writing the over 9000th English paper of the year.” “I think I got a one on that calc test.” Interestingly enough, the teachers that I complained about the most, the ones who pushed us to work the hardest, taught the classes that I got the most out of. We all have teachers that we connected especially with, teachers that we will remember forever. For me, these teachers that I must give a special thanks to include Mr. Porter, Mrs. Cooper, Mrs. Starkins, Dr. Rumack and Mr. Phil. There is one teacher I can’t thank personally, a teacher whom I think about every day and will never stop missing. Thank you, Mrs. Jonsson, for demonstrating with your short life the impact that one teacher can have—I am going to become a teacher one day thanks to your example.

Obviously, our teachers weren’t our only influence--we all owe our family a big thanks. It’s impossible to mention the family of every graduate, but I’d like to start by thanking my own mom and dad, my grandparents, my bonus family and my beautiful and brilliant twin, Alli.

For most of us, though, the reason we woke up at the crack of dawn and braved the Horseneck Rd. Traffic has little to do with our teachers or families--it was all for our friends. Our real friends, not just our Facebook acquaintances. To all my study buddies, to anyone whose ever joined me in running up the down escalator--thank you so much. It’s memories like this (well, maybe not of studying) that will keep us laughing for years to come. 

I measure my high school experience though not in friends, not in thanks but in moments--moments that Facebook could never capture. A video could never show the persistence of the performers in our junior year musical, determined to dance on a stage lit by flashlights as the power kept flickering out. Postings reminding us seniors to wear cowboy hats don’t attest to the amazing success of Senior Cowboy Day—or Senior Suit Day, depending on who you ask. And the thousands of “Rest in Peace, TJ” statuses that I read this December could never describe the silence in the hallways, the heartfelt messages scrawled everywhere, the unbelievable impact of one student’s life. Facebook doesn’t show the strength of our student body, recovering from the loss of both a beloved teacher and a beloved student less than a year apart, determined through memorial fundraisers and suicide awareness campaigns that the lessons of their lives will live on.

 Our class is so diverse—from soccer standouts to science superstars to people who are really passionate about poncho day—that it seems impossible to describe us in one phrase, one status. So on Facebook, when in doubt—go to song lyrics. I could think only of one quote that could truly capture the message of today’s ceremony, from the final song in our last high school musical, Merrily We Roll Along. Seniors 2011—“It’s our time.” Congratulations.