Lakeside School

The following is an excerpt of a speech by Student Government President Gresham Crone ’26. Find additional speeches by Matheus Keller ’26, Sonia Patten ’26, Upper School Assistant Director Whitney Suttell, and Interim Head of School/Upper School Director Ryan Boccuzzi, on our blogs and reflections webpage.

I’m gonna cut right to the chase here and say that this speech–like the one I gave on the first day of school–is all about one word. This time though, the word is impact.

To understand why I chose impact, we gotta zoom out real quick. Over these past few months of Senior Spring, whenever our class would get together, Mr. Bocuzzi would always introduce the gathering by saying “Look at the people surrounding you . . . This is one of the last few times that this group of people will be together in one room.”

And on the one hand, I’m thinking, “yeah we know; we’ve heard this all before.” But at the same time, I’m sitting there feeling all sentimental, because I understand exactly why he’s saying this.

In fact, I’ve had those same feelings of sentimentality since our class gathered for our school day SAT during junior spring. I remember that day vividly: the scene is hard to forget. For every standardized test, they box our entire grade into the dull, grey warm-up gym. With our entire class all facing the same direction and the setting stripped to the bare minimum, there’s nothing worth focusing on other than the people surrounding you.

And I remember being overtaken by the greatest epiphany.

Sonder, the theme of this past winter’s issue of IMAGO, is a made-up word, defined by author John Koenig as “the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.” And at that moment, I’m sitting in my little white chair feeling sondered to the max. Everywhere I look is someone who is bound to someday do the most amazing things. Rani’s over there about to become a Supreme Court justice, Vishnu’s on his way to win the Nobel prize, Indigo’s gonna walk the red carpet, Otto–I don’t know what he’s gonna do, but I’m sure it’ll be amazing. And so here I am, staring down t-minus 20 minutes til a three-hour long standardized test; all the while, I’m having a grand old time fantasizing about the middle-aged versions of all my classmates.

The things that this group of students will accomplish, the people they’ll meet, and most of all, the impact they’ll have on the world at large, is enough to take my breath away every single time I sit amongst them.

Now I hope you guys already know how impactful your presence is, but even if you don’t, you're in luck. I’ve included in the rest of this speech three brief stories tastefully selected about how members of this class have already made significant impact during my time here.

None of the people featured in these stories know what’s about to be told, and although they were present when the proceeding events took place, they will be hearing them from my perspective live for the first time with all of you. So buckle up.

The first story is about Avery Lane. Avery and I didn’t know each other until this year. But on the very first day of our Ecology class, she’s the partner I’m assigned to for a group project. We do the project, the day before it’s due, and afterwards I realize, wow she’s pretty cool. We’re spending half our mornings all year together — I might as well get to know her.

Fast forward a couple more months and Avery and I are texting after one of my musical rehearsals. I ask: “Hey, do you wanna meet up at Rain Cafe together and study for tomorrow’s math test?” She responds: “Carney and I are already here–you should join us.”

So I join. We end up not studying an ounce of math, and yet somehow we’re sitting there, talking and laughing until the restaurant kicks us out at 9:30. As we’re walking to our cars, I come to the realization that I’ve found myself a real friend.

But my favorite moment with Avery happens on a warm spring night after the Lakeside Mariners game. We talked one-on-one for three hours straight, standing in a parking lot. I’ve had a fair amount of conversations during my eighteen years of living, shared among an innumerable number of friends. And, admittedly, I’m closer with a lot of those friends than Avery. Yet in the entirety of my life, I don’t think I’ve had a single continuous conversation more impactful than those hours I spent standing with her in that parking lot.

And this is the first kind of impact. The most valuable conversation you’ll ever have will most likely come from somebody you’d never expect. Likewise, you might find yourself on the other side of that dynamic, where without even realizing it, you tell someone exactly the words they need to hear. And you’ll never know it until it happens.

Unlike Avery, whose impact on my life has been far more recent, this next story takes place on my pre-freshman year outdoor trip.

The inception of my friendship with Ryan Melendez and Tilden Hsu was a three-way lightsaber battle utilizing trekking poles. Yet, regardless of how things started, I knew I liked these two from the moment I laid eyes on them. On the first night of our backpacking trip, I’m laying in my tent, next to these two other dudes, and I remember the feeling of serenity, knowing that, sure, I might be in a new place, but I’m gonna be okay; I’m gonna have friends; and I’ve just made my first two.

A few days later on that trip, all the kids who were new to Lakeside gathered around Elliott, who’d been here since Middle School. He’d been giving us a whole who’s who and what’s what about life at Lakeside. With his concluding words, he turned towards Tilden, Ryan, and I and said “You’ll figure it out. You’ll meet new people, find your friends, and go your separate ways.” Now he’s the certified Lakeside expert here — so I don’t have the audacity to confront him — but in the back of my mind I’m thinking “Go our separate ways? Is this guy nuts? I’m keeping these two around until I die.”

And I’m not dead yet. But just a couple weekends ago, in the hours leading up to prom, I went out to lunch with some friends, and when I looked up from my meal, the two people sharing that table with me were none other than Ryan Melendez and Tilden Hsu.

Elliott, I’ve never been so glad to see somebody be wrong in my entire life.

This story is all about the second kind of impact. There will be people in your life who you will spend years with. You will see multiple versions of that person, and you will love every one of them.

With that said, the final story is about the opposite kind of impact: the people whose lives intersect with yours only for a moment.

The summer after that fateful outdoor trip, I did a service camp through Lakeside. Coincidentally, that was the same week Travis Scott would drop his album UTOPIA on that Thursday night. This would’ve meant absolutely nothing to me, had it not been for the fact that the three other Lakesiders at camp were none other than Marco Garces, but more importantly for this story, Ollie Whitney and Alistair Knapp.

Ollie and Alistair had been Travis Scott superfans. The entire week, their sole topic of conversation was the album that hadn’t even released yet. And believe me, there are few things in this world more enjoyable than listening to somebody discuss one of their passions.

But these two are on a different level. By the time Thursday arrives — the day the album releases — they have a conversation about what they’re gonna do when it drops. They deliberated for hours, but I’ll skip to the conclusion, in the form of a quote from Alistair: “First I’m gonna listen to the album normally, lying down in my bed. Then I’m gonna listen to it backwards. After that, I’m gonna listen to it with the songs ordered alphabetically. Then the two previous albums leading up to it. And then, I’m gonna listen to it normally one last time.” The whole time I’m sitting there thinking: “Wow, these guys are committed."

Finally though, the day comes to an end. Right as I’m about to leave camp, Ollie stops me at the door and says, “Hey Gresham, I got a homework assignment for you. I want you to come back tomorrow with your favorite song on the album.”

Now here’s where things get complicated. For any normal person, this would be a simple assignment. However, soon-to-be sophomore Gresham doesn’t have Spotify Premium or any other way to listen. To make matters worse, the album doesn’t drop until 9 p.m., and my parents definitely don’t want me blasting fresh Travis Scott while my nine year old brother is tryna sleep.

This leaves me resorting to the album’s Wikipedia page to find the tracklist, and YouTube music-videos as my only means of listening. But when I pop open YouTube at 9 p.m. sharp, I find out the videos don’t even release at the same time as they do on Spotify.

So here I am, laying down on a couch in my basement, clutching my laptop and waiting as the music videos slowly trickle onto YouTube. Meanwhile, Ollie and Alistair are all snug in their beds already on their second listening.

Eventually, the video for the fourth song, titled “My Eyes,” gets published. And I decide this is the one for me. I tell Ollie and Alistair the next day that it’s my favorite, the camp ends, and this time, Elliott is right. We go our separate ways.

I never hung out extensively with Ollie or Alistair after that five-day fever dream. In fact, I ended up spending far more time with Marco than either of them. However, just this past winter, the four of us (Ollie, Alistair, Marco, and I) were at a party, and by a stroke of luck, we end up all standing next to each other. Just us. It occurs to me that it’s the same group from service camp, and right as I realize this, I hear Alistair over my left shoulder. He goes: “Guys. Life’s a movie. Think back to the summer before sophomore year.” And in an instant, we’re reminiscing on that week when we were all together.

This is the third type of impact. And I’ve saved it for last because it’s the kind that most often gets overlooked. You don’t need a whole year to change someone. You don’t even need a week like I had. All you need is a single interaction — a single moment — for them to remember you for years to come. These days, I can’t even listen to “My Eyes” by Travis Scott without thinking about digging up blackberries, Ollie, Alistair, and Marco by my side.

These are the stories I remember when I think about impact. You’ll inevitably find yourself in all three roles at some point during the years ahead, and fill a different role in the lives of everyone you meet. For one person, you’ll be the greatest friendship they’ve ever had. Someone else: the love of their life. And the best part is, you probably haven’t even met them yet. That’s what makes these years ahead so exciting.

You’ll be loved, you’ll be cared for, and most of all, your presence and your impact will always always always be more than enough.

With that said, I know it’s Mr. Bocuzzi’s signature line, and I know you’ve heard it many times before, but I thought on this special day I'd spare him from his duty: Look around at the group of former peers you’re sitting among. Remember the ways they’ve changed you. This is the last time that this group of people will be together in its entirety in one setting.

But don’t let that deter you. The impact this community has had on you over these past four years is what makes all the years ahead so exciting. Remember that no matter where you end up, there will be 144 of your past relationships, each showing their entire world to the version of you that they came to know.

I know that this speech included three of my favorite stories from my time here, but the truth is that three stories alone could never contain all the impact you’ve made while at Lakeside. Nothing I say ever could.

But I thought I’d do a little something different, just to get one step closer. Don’t open it until the end of the speech, but if you look beneath each of your chairs, all of you should find an envelope with your name on it. Within each of these envelopes is a card I’ve written with a brief appreciation of the impact you specifically have made on my time here. It can’t encapsulate it all, but I thought it’d be a good start. Every single one of you means so much to me. And there’s no other group of people I would rather spend the past four — and by extension of your everlasting impact — the rest of my life with.

Thank you so much.