An Open Letter to Graduating Seniors

Dear Graduating Seniors,

We’re finally getting rid of you and your slacker class.

Whether you like it or not, your time here is done. No more bridge jumping, no more ‘going to assembly’, and no more figuring out whether you should hug your date at the end of EP. Everything is changing, and people will stop caring about what time you get home, the legality of your V’s and your GPA. For the first time in your life, you will have to be the sole source of behavior standards. Which, for the majority of you, means you won’t make it two weeks without a broken bone or a visit to jail. If boarding school has taught me anything, it’s that teenagers should not be trusted with independence.

After you graduate, you will finally be rid of all the people that you despise. No longer will you have to pretend to be texting when you pass the subject of your loathing on the path. No more will your automatic response be “Oh, I hate that ____” when their name is mentioned. After all this time of putting up with them doing stupid things like daring to eat at the table next to you and talking about their weekend at the beginning of class, you can pretend like they never even existed. Life can continue.

Unfortunately, this means you will also have to figure out how to interact with people that weren’t your best friends, but didn’t necessarily make you want to gag yourself with a spoon either. Running into ex-classmates will be like running into teachers outside of school prior to Exeter. You’ll wonder how the other person can exist outside of the 10 mile radius and then try to figure out their name. (This shouldn’t be hard—just guess Caroline or Fortinbras or something equally preppy). You will make an awkward joke about the 333 and New England weather, then depart, hoping that you will never have to repeat that interaction ever again, though that is exactly what awaits you at all of your future reunions.

Speaking of reunions, you have to start planning for your five-year right now. You might think that you’ve escaped the competitive culture of Exeter, but you are completely wrong. These reunions will define who has made it in life and who just kind of happens to be living. First, you need a nice car. (Just rent one, no one will know any better). A flashy sports car will fit right into Exeter, New Hampshire. Then you’ll need hip clothes, but not clothes so modern that your peers will think you’re trying to retain your youth. A significant other will also be required in order to prove that you have, in fact, glowed up. Whether you actually like them or not, you will also be expected to bring along kids. The key for this part is to bring enough children that it appears as if you have a loving, fulfilled life, but not too many children that it seems as if you learned nothing from any of your health classes.

So seniors, I wish you luck. Know that it’s impossible to go any more downhill from here.

Love,

Majestic