Graduation Speech

Students, Parents, Faculty members, guest speakers, uncles, aunts, grand parents and all of you up there on the stuffed bleachers who cant move an inch, Welcome.

We are fortunate to have you all here today, even though this will probably be the longest two hours of your lives.

 My name is Isabela Saavedra but if you’re sitting on this stage you should probably know that, and if you don’t, what’s wrong with you you’ve had the past 14 years to at least know the names of those who’ve seen you at your worst, and yes I do mean puberty. I’ve come here today not because I got 2000 on my first SAT or because I participated on soccer World Cup before getting into high school. I’m here because I’m one more of those average students, one more of those who today become invisible between the rainbows of satches hanging from all of you NHSer’s, ambassadors, athletes, potential leaders, or any other group found at CNG. I guess this year administrators wanted us to“ expect the unexpected” and here we are listening to me.

It’s been long since we started this journey of our lives together, we’ve made friends, we’ve made enemies, and we’ve made frenemies. We have seen many fall, like literally fall into mighty rivers, or down the steps of Kinky making the bouncers wonder why they let us in in the first place. And even though we saw every one laugh their eyes out, in the end a helping hand would always come along.

 I remember wondering what being a senior would be like. Long lunch, loud music, water fights, freedom, what could go wrong? CNG was senior paradise. Every year people sit around the amphi, watching the seniors in their reserved spot act as… well very normal every day people, but still we spare 1095 days of our lives watching how older girls gossip, how boys play soccer, or volleyball or any thing that can get the attention of every one sitting around. Any way we just “stick to the status quo” because “ if you want to be cool follow one simple rule don’t mess with the flow, no, no”.

Yes! I have really quoted High School Musical.

One day this paradisiac thought of the amphitheater drifted away and became just that… a thought, an idea that would never come back. The new regime set at CNG would delete the idea of high school as a five star, Cancun, all incisive, resort. He called him self the Tardinator, a gringo, with less facial expression than Majo when she looks into her computer. You could learn more about him from the smell of his office than from any jester he makes or any talk you have with him. Today we are those seniors we used to dream of, but today we live as Cuban’s under a regime and wondering when the good old days will come back.

The time has come to say good-bye, and as hard as it seems today we start a new stage of our lives where not only do we leave friends behind but also we have to adapt to growing up. For those off you who leave Colombia for college the best of luck, we will be patiently waiting for your come back, and all your stories about the Boston night life, microwave food, and your Fraternity brothers making you walk naked during the winter. For the ones who stay here not much will change, you will just have to adapt to being “el gomelo de la Universidad” and getting bullied for the way you talk.

I came here today not to teach you or show you how the future will be like, but to remind you to cherish the past and all those moments we lived as a family. 

So remember, those of you who’s most memorable organization was, spending lunch with the Tardinator, your not alone. Don’t feel ashamed, while every one worked hard to wear a colored satch one night, you where watching the season finally of gossip girl, breaking bad, greys anatomy or any other life consuming TV show. And even though you are the tiny leprechaun standing behind the great rainbow always remember who has the pot of gold. Don’t be sad because it ended, be happy because your leaving, because marathons to the cafeteria are over, because you wont have to worry about lunch detention, or getting caught out of dress code. Be happy because you had the best 14 years any teenager could ask for, and because you are prepared to handle any thing that gets in your way.

So my dearest class of 2015 I wish you the best of luck in whatever you do. Really if you aren’t able to get past high school, and your life doesn’t take you any where, have the certainty that in 5 years you will see us back. We experienced the emotion on Elle Wood’s graduation speech, we dreamed of toughing a tiara up in the air like Mia from Princess Diaries, instead of a squared hat that could probably break your face. We danced along Troy Bolton and Gabriela Montes on their graduation, and today It’s are day. For the last time “we are all in this together” and so Class of 2015 lets make the best of it.

Empty Market as The Daily Bread

Every time we are hungry or want something, we walk to the kitchen open the fridges door and there it is. If we can’t find what we are looking for, then we just dial seven numbers and in less than an hour whatever we want is brought to our front doors. We are not used to not finding things at the store or not being able to eat or have the things we want.

Starting this new graphic novel called “Marzi a memoir”, which tells the story of a young polish girl living during the times of communism in her country, I’ve come to realize how we don’t appreciate the small things we are able to consume every day, and just because we have never missed them we take them for granted. Marzi the main character starts her story talking about a carp; a “special” fish they get to eat once a year. She doesn’t really like the carp, it makes the whole bathtub stink, but considering it is a special occasion and that she will only be able to eat this once a year; Marzi eats the carp as if it was the best thing ever. Then she talks about her families rush to get sugar one day. In the morning the news that sugar has arrived to the local market shocks every one in the house. They rush to the market to the market, wait on an hour-long line just to get two kilograms of sugar. The same two kilograms I walk to the corner and get in two minutes.

As I’ve read into the book, more and more examples of the decay of communism appear, and every time I reflect on how little we appreciate what we have until we no longer are able to get it, and there is where we come to realize how much we needed it. I’m not sure if Marzi realizes that not being able to find what you want at the store is something that normally doesn’t happen, or just finding one product at a time. She was born during the peak of communism in Poland, and has lived all her life running to the market every time something new arrives to town.

People in a society like ours usually take for granted the little things that life is giving us, since they have never had to live with out them they don’t understand their value and that maybe other people would be grateful to have even a little of the stuff we have. From this book I’ve not only reflected on a political and historical matter, but also on how ungrateful we are some time, even though we get every thing we want.

From Make Over to Take Over

Reading more into my book I have discovered a lot of things that for me seemed distant and unreal. This book shows a lot of situations young girls go through and that even though we never hear about them they happen very regularly and in the lives of the people we least expect.

While reading I got to a chapter called “Free Barbie”. Instantly my op-ed article came to my head. In it I discussed how the way Barbie looks has created stereotypes all around the world of how a “beautiful” woman should look like. Strangely this chapter talked about the same thing, not only does she try to show the consequences wanting to look like this plastic doll brings, but also she tries to shows Barbie’s perspective of what she look like to society.

Chang Ying a 16-year-old chines girl who works in the Barbie factory at Kwai Yong, China talks about her experience in this cruel sweatshop where no one matters except for the plastic dolls being made. Ying says, “ She talks to me. She’s really angry. She’s really hurting. She is really guilty. She hates shopping and feels bad about all the girls who are starved to make her and are starving to be like her.” We as human beings tend to blame everything on some one else. Even blame stuff on plastic object or situations so that we can free our selves from the fact that it was always our fault. Obviously Barbie didn’t decide her personality, or how to look. There was some greedy businessman who knew how girls would feel about this perfect doll and how much they would want to buy it.

Reflecting on my op-ed article I would probably change the part where I blame Barbie for making girls turn into walking skeletons or people pleasures and instead I would make the industries, the market, the money, and never less the people who control this stuff, responsible for all that happens with girls. To start changing society we have to start with our selves.

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Good Girls go Bad.

What’s a Good Girl? That was the title I opened to in my book. The question went around my head for some time before I started reading the short passage. I realized that never before had I questioned the fact that I was a good girl. I had good grades, I didn’t do drugs, I was not rebellious, and I didn’t do any thing that any average teenage girl would do.

The first sentence of this passage was “ She doesn’t speak to a boy at all.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Most of my friends are boys, that doesn’t mean I turn into a “bad girl” when I talk to them, or at least that’s what I thought. Since the first sentence I knew I was going to disagree with every thing this obnoxious selection was to say.

Since I was little I have always been that person who says and stands up for everything they think. My parents have raised me to become a strong, independent woman. One who can be successful and get anywhere she wants without depending on any men or any other person. The idea this passage sells of a “good girl”, in my opinion is the way society through out history, has made woman seem weaker and less capable than men. People say that you get what you believe you deserve. How can women fight every day for their rights and then believe that a good girl should be the one that stays at home, agrees with everything, is quiet, and doesn’t argue? Where are we? 1932?

After reading this passage if come to the conclusion that if this pathetic stereotype about good girls is true, then probably I will happily rot in hell.

Cicadas: (noun) any large homopterous insect of the family Cicadidae, the male of which produces a shrill sound bymeans of vibrating membranes on the underside of the abdomen.