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Page 4 of 4
Emily Allen
An Address from Hogwarts
Good Afternoon, Arlington! Good afternoon to all the parents and siblings, the witches and wizards, and the gifted youngsters out here today.
As many of you know, I'm a big fan of a certain series of books, and I've always thought of Arlington High as my own personal Hogwarts – with Professors Lupin, McGonagall, Snape, and Umbridge all included. Although they're marketed for kids, the Harry Potter series has the emotional complexity and the weight of the too-real world, complete with its own version of terrorism and the newspaper to report it.
While the Daily Prophet headlines would trumpet news of Voldemort's latest atrocities, my imagined Hogwarts Ponder Report might read a little differently. For Example: Due to Voldemort, oceans will rise three feet within the next 50 years – well, I guess SAVE club will take care of that, and also, Voldemort has just endorsed an offensive campaign ad, we'll have to tackle this one in the Young Democrat and Republican Clubs, and even more hauntingly, Lord Voldemort has just released his latest hit single – we'll have the Performing Arts Department take care of him. We joke about this sort of thing, but the real wonder is how Arlington High students seem to grapple with these problems with passion and poise unparalleled even by Harry in his epic battles.
One of my favorite parts of these books was how "Dumbledore's Army," a defense training group, started from a band of kids who were concerned about what was happening outside the cozy halls of their school. We too are known for thinking outside the walls of Arlington High by putting ourselves into the community by volunteering, working, and playing with all the effort we could muster. Just like Harry, we got messy, made mistakes, and put our leadership to the test, with the invaluable aid of our teachers.
At Arlington High, we had to make our own way. No, we aren't a private school with a secret vault filled knee-deep with gold – we are a public school with a personality. After four years of bake sales, car washes, and cookie-dough fund raisers, we know how to work for what we believe. That is the true measure of a successful graduation. No GPA, nor an exam score, nor any diploma can provide the satisfaction of graduating with the power to change the world. In fact, after all this talk about Harry Potter, we are all doing one better than he did on this day; we are graduating.
I hope this is a harbinger of the good that will come from the class of 2008, a class that has not only excelled academically, but has managed to put grades aside to prove that labels are not important both when stuck to themselves or others. Of course, we will miss our teachers, particularly our Lupins and McGonagalls, if not our Snapes and Umbridges, but indeed we will miss our friends more, our closest, steadfast companions.
Truth be told, if it had not been for one brilliant, thoughtful friend, I would never have written this speech. Although distance will undoubtedly separate best friends, a well-trained owl should do the trick to deliver heartfelt letters across the country. Or, in our case, the United States Postal Service Eagle.
So now I would like to thank all the teachers and students who refused to be ordinary. Those who took what little they had and made complex and beautiful artwork. Those who rose at seven in the morning to breathe a few bars of music. Those who wouldn't allow any government to leave a child behind, and those who would risk falling behind to help a friend. So, friends, remember as we move on that you were here, you have as much magic as Harry Potter himself, and that as long as you believe in that, your loyal companions are never more than a phone call away. Thank you.
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