T O D A Y - Berwick Academy

processed and coloured-in versions,of what has happened. Adulthoodbrings approximation, fluidity, anddoubt; and we keep the doubt at bayby retelling that familiar story…pretending that the solidity ofnarrative is a proof of truth. But thechild or adolescent rarely doubts theveracity and precision of the bright,lucid chunks of the past it possessesand celebrates.Let me start by saying that I believesomething real is happening to each of youtoday. While some are clearly going to bemore outward about the emotion connectedwith graduating and saying goodbye to yourteachers, your friends, and your school, Ithink each of you feels something downthere somewhere. While I am not here tomake it something bigger than it is, I do urgeyou to consider the “veracity and lucidity” ofthat emotion. As years pass, this emotion willinevitably become “processed and colouredin”to the point that you may find it hard to believe thatthis was even that big a deal. Barnes would argue that theclarity of memory you see and feel today will likely bemore true than the one you will polish up, or allow to dull,twenty or thirty years from now. I ask you to considerkeeping it polished. Take ownership of this memory’sshape as well as its lasting luster.I first read about memory as a freshman in college,actually. In my interdisciplinary freshman seminar, oneof the most impactful titles for me was Speak, Memoryby Vladmir Nabokov. If my first request was to stewardSalutatorian Devon Woodyour individual memories ofBerwick, then my second isto help you see the obligationto share your memories witheach other over time. Withyour peers, with your Berwickteachers, with your parents,your siblings, perhaps evenyour own children someday.One of Nabokov’s quotesabout memory that speaks tothis dynamic is beautiful in itsmetaphoric simplicity:The spiral is aspiritualized circle.In the spiral form, thecircle, uncoiled, hasceased to be vicious;it has been set free.As a class, let the spiral of yourstory-telling, laughter, andshared dreams reinforce the sense of community that youbuilt during your time here. This should happen over thecourse of the next few weeks, but then over the comingyears and decades as well. Do not close off your individualmemories into a personal circle of imperviousness.Rather, welcome the influence of the spiral inherent instory-telling, which will make this experience even moremeaningful for you with the passage of time.And so, while I have to remind myself once againthat you likely do go on to remember almost nothing ofwhat I just said, I can only hope that you remember that Itried to say something about the importanceof memory. And for those of you who mayhave simply conked out somewhere after Imentioned the word “iPhone” in my firstparagraph, I will begin to draw to a closewith a much more straightforward symbolto which you might cling, that of myprecious turtle. Mercifully, I will get to itspoint quickly.group of people about whom I had many assumptions –nature lovers, hippies perhaps, burnouts – some versionof that. I came to realize that, as I stood there on Augustafternoons, perched on a salt-water marsh canoe joustingwith my rather futile net on a quest for feisty underwaterturtles, I had an awful lot to learn about myself and aboutothers. So for me, the turtle has always been less about“slow and steady wins the race” but rather a reminder toavoid making assumptions about people.However, a good friend of mine, who happens tobe a head at a neighboring school, had a trustee presidentwho spoke about turtles at a recent graduation. Hisexpression of why turtles actually matter was probablymore compelling than mine. I now think of it eachtime I look at one of my turtle figurines, coffee mugs,or pictures that have been crafted by my daughters. Putsimply, the turtle may be the only animal we know of thatquite literally has to stick its neck out if it hopes to getanywhere. Perhaps that image will be the most valuablememory I can share with you today.As my time at your podium truly begins to wane,I fully admit the limitations of your Head of School byreturning to Julian Barnes once again as he says: “Theadvice of the old is like the winter sun: it sheds light butdoes not warm us.” Yet I can still hope that some glimmerof warmth has made it into each of your souls through ourconversation today. If I have not been successful in thisregard, I can assure you that your class has been successfulin having such an impact on this community. You havealso had this impact upon me.My final nod to Nabokov speaks to you fromthe entire faculty and staff of Berwick Academy: “I thinkit is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory,the stronger and stranger it is.” Without question, theValedictorian Erin Trainormemory of the Class of 2012 is one that we will love. Formy part, I plan to polish and steward this memory withevery future meeting, every cherished story, and everyshared connection that we may enjoy in the future. Myharbored hope in this memory growing over time is thatit might begin to mitigate the more immediate feelings ofloss and sadness that are intertwined in my trying to saygoodbye at this very moment on your graduation stage.Thank you for all that you have given us, Class of 2012,and I wish you nothing but great memories in the future.6Turtles actually got me intocollege. My college essay was aboutbeing forced to do community service at aMassachusetts Audubon chapter that wasin the business of tagging diamondbackterrapins on the shores of Cape Cod. WhileI thought turtles were somewhat endearingin their own plodding sort of way, the essaywas about being forced to work with a“Green Cranes”Jessica Murray ‘127