Rocks appear to be permanent, but only on the scale of a human life. Rocks are permanent for thousands of years, and that might be what makes them important to us. We use various kinds of rocks to build statues, monuments, buildings, and engravings, because they will outlast any timeframe which we can reasonably imagine. We carve our heroes into stone because we want them to last forever despite tacitly knowing that they will not. Mountains and other natural forms are constantly being eroded away by Mother Nature with each passing day.

It’s no secret that we have an inbuilt predisposition to attach to objects. But the way in which we attach to an object such as a ring or old stuffed animal is predicated on the mistaken belief that we will always have the things to which we’re attached, just as they are. Nothing lasts forever. Rocks don’t, and neither will my time at Parker. Suddenly, I am 18 years of age, and it is a bit hard to comprehend that. A few days ago, I was looking at the calendar on my phone. I scrolled down a few months, anticipating to see automatically uploaded events for the next school year. When I saw that there was nothing, that this was my last school year here, it became clearer to me what’s happening. 

There is no “next school year.” Well, there is, but mine will look quite different from the one I have come to know over the last 14 years. The majority of my existence has been defined by Parker, and returning to 330 W. Webster each fall has become somewhat of a routine. Not anymore.

This juncture in time—between high school and college, as well as amid a pandemic—has allowed me to reflect on nearly my whole life and what I’ve made of it so far, but it’s also been an opportunity to reflect on the past year alone. Before I took my position as President, I was asked for the single thing I hoped to change. That was and still remains the narrative of Student Government. There is such a strong self-fulfilling prophecy that circulates in the hallways that Student Government does nothing, that it’s boring and a waste of time, and I really hope that by doing as much as we can in this position, the Cabinet has affected that perception positively with restoration and proof of concept. 

Keep in mind that this journey has been a team effort, and I would not have been able to do anything without the help of parents, administrators, and other students. And this is so critical to realize—that when we come together to actually take advantage of the privileges we have, and when we voice our opinions, something really special happens. We can inspire change and foster meaningful relationships with each other. I hoped to set an example that things can be done by doing as much as our schedule would allow us, and my hope is that that has been achieved in the eyes of the student body. But even if it has not, through Student Government, I have had the opportunity to meet all sorts of students, whom I otherwise would not have, in a new light, whether that’s through interactions in the hallway, extracurriculars, or the proposal-writing process.

Parker has offered me an experience that I would not trade for anything, and I am grateful for the institution of Student Government, as it has been a place for me to collaborate, learn, and teach others about educational innovation, citizenship, and the student experience through student-teacher relationships and creative problem-solving. Serving as your President has been such an honor, and I firmly believe that the impression Parker has had on me will live on for years to come. I am thrilled to join the Parker alumni family and hope to stay in touch with you all. Thank you for your support. In order to return the favor, I’ve tried to do my part in making the Parker experience more enjoyable, not just during Student Government, but always and forever.