Commencement 2024: Speech by Alex Mincone ’24
Good morning, everyone.
So, when I was in elementary school, my friends and I loved to make believe that we were teenagers. To us, teenagers were the coolest people on the planet. And each of our characters were inspired by our older cousins and babysitters. We would borrow one of our parents cell phones, and walk around the playground complaining about homework, planning outfits for prom, and periodically stopping to “text.”
I imagined the day I turned 13, waking up and suddenly being able to relate to Miley Stewart, Teddy Duncan, and Alex Russo. (Parents and teachers, you can Google this after the ceremony.) I had so much admiration for these characters, and would try to emulate their every move. In third grade, I used to walk around with a chopstick in my boot and pretend it was a wand. When anyone would ask me what it was, I would reach down to cover and tell them, “Don’t worry about it. Everything is not as it seems.”
But over time, I realized that 13 was not so different from 12, and I would find myself longing once again for another milestone age. “When I’m 16, I’ll finally feel like a real teenager,” which in three years turned into, “When I’m 18, I’ll finally feel like a real teenager.” Before I knew it, I was a senior, and 2024 wasn’t just the number I saw at the end of my email. I had arrived.
If you’re anything like me — spectacular –, senior year has felt a bit like playing make believe. It’s still difficult to wrap my head around being the same age as the seniors were when I was a freshman. At the end of our junior year Leadership Retreat, Mr. Boyd said no matter how many years go by, I’ll never feel as old as the seniors on campus when I was a freshman, because their first year of high school was hybrid, and we only had the sophomores on campus with us. The glimpses we got of upperclassmen in sports, performing arts, and morning assembly videos were inspiring. It was hard to believe that only three years laid between us. We saw them dressed in white t-shirts, walking with nursery kids in the Opening Ceremony. We went to their senior nights and final performances, and many of us saw them walk this very stage to receive their diplomas. Now it was hard to imagine the Wheeler community without them, but they all seemed so ready to take their next steps.
While it is clear to see that we are ready for our next step as well, it is still really hard to imagine leaving the Wheeler community. However, I do know that wherever we go, Wheeler will be with us. And I don’t mean that we will have the support of an invisible community for the rest of our lives, although that would make an amazing “Wizards of Waverly Place” episode. Rather, I’m talking about the memories we’ve created here, the people and the places that turn make believe into genuine magic.
In Ms. Funnell’s memoir class, each of us was asked to bring in a specific smell from childhood in a small blue glass jar. People brought pine nuts, orange peels, honeysuckle hand soap, isopropyl alcohol, and perfume. We passed these jars around, and while each student shared the story behind their contents, others began chiming in with their own related memories. Many of the jars transported me back to memories I didn’t even know I remembered. Sophia told me that similar to these blue glass jars, there are little reminders of Wheeler everywhere she goes. Today feels a little bit easier because I know that we will carry the people here with us long after we cross this stage and take our next steps. We will not travel alone. Every time I smell TRESemmé hairspray, I will be automatically transported to the Wheeler Hall basement during the Spring and Winter Dance showcases. Every time I correctly use the word “subsequently,” first I will celebrate, and then I will think of Mr. Rodarte. Every time someone offers me a piece of gum, I’ll think of Mark and his overwhelming generosity when it comes to sharing with the class. And every time I look at my bookshelf, I’ll see the copy of “Little Women” that B let me borrow in eighth grade, and I’ve been intending to and will return and would have brought today but small pockets and look, I’ve already got a chopstick in my boots. So B you can let it go. And every time I hear the song, “You belong with me,” I’ll think of Sanjana, and Ameen, and the whole senior class dancing in the GCA.
This community will always surround us and be a part of us. And when I look out today at everybody’s faces, I can see how much we’ve all grown and changed, but I still can see who we were all those years ago. And if you ever need a reminder of that, just take a look at your freshman yearbook photo. Do not look at mine. Dye job regrets.
We do not need to pretend to be the seniors that we once looked up to. We have become them. My friends, we are now the coolest people on the planet. Thank you so much.
