Jeremy Turner

Germantown Friends School

As we leave this place, I think a lot of us feel pressure to have a plan. To know what comes next. To have every step mapped out before we can take it.

But I think what defines life is not knowing. Because not knowing means you haven’t let someone else decide your future for you. It means the path ahead of you is still yours to create. It means your limits are right in front of you, waiting to be broken.

Seniors, this new period of your life, marked by the end of this ceremony, will, no doubt, be defined by what you don’t know. But do not be afraid of the unknown. Do not be swayed by people who think they know your path better than you do. Do not be comfortable in your seat. When your heart races, When your hands tremble, Stand up.

Amelia Swedloff

Germantown Friends School

Coming into GFS as a new freshman, the thing that I heard the most about was Meeting… and the reasons for it: sitting in community, having time to reflect, and honoring everyone’s inner light.

Some days, I like to simply listen carefully. Hear the waves of sound as people shift in their seats or play with their clothes. Feel the way the room turns to face someone as they stand. Listen to the wind blowing or the sounds from outside the tent. Know that everyone else can hear and feel exactly the same things.

On other days, I like to look up at the facing benches and try to count the people whose names I know. When I was an underclassman, this proved to be a much harder task. However, now I could look back at each person behind me and know not just their name, but WHO they are.

Jordan Abney

Germantown Friends School

During these early years, we all first encountered the Quaker belief that “there is a light within each person.” Before the homework, before the college applications, before the pressure of figuring out who we are in this world, we were simply — kids, beginning to come into our own.

But as time moved on, we matured with it. I think we can all recall what happened in March of 2020. As sixth graders, everything changed overnight. Classrooms became computer screens, and faces disappeared behind Zoom calls. We went from camping at Hickory Run to hybrid learning, and the light we all shared now felt dimmed. Yet somehow, we endured. And once returning back to in-person learning, we picked up right where we left off … together.

Whether you understand light spiritually or not, the message remains the same: Each person has something valuable to offer. In biology, we are taught that light contributes to life. It helps us see. It helps us grow, and it helps us survive. Light also cannot exist in isolation. It travels. It reflects. And transforms.