For the first several years of my time at Parker, I would cry every morning and beg my mom not to leave. It came to a point where I had to practice my goodbyes at home with her and during recess to my teachers. I’ve always hated goodbyes. They feel too definite, too unknown — too scary. Naturally, in my last English class as a Parker student as I said my first formal goodbye to this school, I sobbed my eyes out. Really, truly sobbed. Snot coming out of my nose, heaving, puffy eyed crying. These goodbyes are much harder and feel much more permanent than those I would bid to my mom 14 years ago. They’re not for the day, but forever.
Aside from several years at JRC, my preschool in Evanston, Parker is all I have ever known. This school has seen me through my entire life, glasses, chunky Fila sneakers, braces, and an unwanted bob. From thinking I would never be able to read to begging the library to order me the newest editions of the Penderwicks series, I would not be the person I am today without Parker, its administrators, teachers, and my classmates. It’s within the klinker-brick walls of this school that i’ve met my closest friends, sang countless choir solos, discovered my passions and been encouraged to pursue them to the fullest extent.
I don’t think I ever truly understood that Parker wasn’t permanent. In fact, it wasn’t until just a few weeks ago, in that final English class, that it truly set in that I was leaving. I’ve watched 13 senior classes parade the field on class day and receive their keys to the house, and each year I closed my eyes and wished to be in their position. For so much of my Parker experience, especially my high school experience, the words “I can’t wait” have been seared into my brain. I can’t wait to go back in to school in person. I can’t wait to finish physics. I can’t wait to graduate. It’s so easy to rush through these past four years and hope for something better, but now, as I look back on the end of my journey, I wish for nothing more than to be able to slow down.
Parker is such a special school. To be able to form close relationships with our teachers and have them so easily accessible is unique. As I walk through the halls, I pass Ms. Wild’s second grade classroom, where I learned compassion and met my best friend. Upstairs, Ms. Pickus and Mr. McPharlin’s rooms carry my fondest Parker memories. I can’t count the times I’ve spent free periods in Mr. Mahany’s room, popped by Mr. Bigelow’s and Mr. Bruno’s rooms for a snack and a “hello”, and sought advice from Ms. Walsh. I’ve spent endless hours in college counseling and a semester of Friday lunches with Ms. Rupani, and have received 14 years worth of detailed comments from my teachers about my progress in school, knowing through each one that they truly want me to succeed. These relationships are a privilege, one that I have recognized but also wish I had not taken for granted.
Even more important to me is the relationship I’ve been able to forge with my classmates. Whether I’ve been going to school with them for 17 years, like Audrey and Harry, six years, like Ryan, or even two years, like Luna, each of the 88 of us offers something distinct to our class, and have helped me grow into the person I am today.I’ve spent half of my life at Julia’s house and learned that, aside from being the smartest person I have ever and likely will ever encounter, Grant is also hilarious. I’ve secretly loved my constant banter with Arjun and Jack and come to appreciate Benjamin’s frequent texts about “the Weekly” Instagram. I’ve seen Lyric’s incredible Halloween costumes, fawned over Wren’s singing, attempted to make sense of the insane math Kumiko does, and been lucky enough to experience numerous classes with Davu. I feel so lucky to be able to greet everyone by name in the hallway, and these close nit relationships make it all the harder to say goodbye.
At the end of our last English class, Ryan profoundly said that distance can be the only thing that separates us, and I hope that that holds true. This class has endured so much, yet we have chosen to show up for one another time and time again. This place, these people are so special to me, and I hope that as we embark on our own individual journeys, we remember this community, this family, and remember that we have one another to come back to. To the underclassmen, though it’s cliche, I urge you to slow down and take in every moment, it really does fly by. Appreciate all that Parker has to offer, and do whatever you can to make it better. Never in your life will you experience another place quite like this one. So cheers to the model home and all that we have accomplished, and of course to “the Weekly”, to my 7th article ever, it’s been an absolute pleasure. Thank you Parker, for the bagels, and for teaching me to love learning. 14 years was too short.
Signing off,
Naomi Gross
