Open Senior Letter From Elizabeth Rucker
To My Fellow Seniors:
On August 7, 2020, we paraded on campus anticipation in hearts, smiles on our faces, and laughter in our voices. I can only speak for myself, but I was also full of fear. I was afraid of the inevitable change. For 13 years I have driven onto the same grounds, walked the same halls, seen the same faces, and experienced the same atmosphere. This school, you are my family and my home, and leaving you scares me. I was fearful because I was starting the end of my high school chapter and I had no idea how it would end. On that first day of school, I prayed the last would take its time in approach, but it didn't. It's now three weeks away. They say don't blink because time will fly, and whoever they are, they were right.
Yes, this senior year has been different, weird, and complicated, but it has been beautiful nonetheless. I started the year in fear afraid to leave, afraid to change, but there have been tiny perfect moments that have given me just enough peace to be able to say goodbye to this chapter. I'm not saying goodbye is going to be easy, because it won't it'll be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I'm saying goodbye isn't the end of these incredible, lifelong friendships. Friendships I could never live without. So, to my fellow seniors and my best friends, the past 13 years have been a glorious ride and I want to thank you. Thank you for loving so well. Thank you for being the closest class the teachers had ever seen. Thank you for being the reason I can't stop smiling. Thank you for those tiny perfect moments that make living so worthwhile. Someday soon, your whole life's gonna change. You'll miss the magic of these good old days. Friends, class of 2021, we're there. These are our good old days. Let's live them out and leave a legacy.
To the Class of 2022:
Next year is your year. Make it memorable. Here's a list of some tiny perfect moments that have made this year so special: Take an underclassman to lunch, confide in a teacher you trust, lend that person a pencil, give them a ride, go get ice cream in the middle of the day, read that book, give small compliments, journal what you're grateful for, wear crazy socks that don't match, go to every home game, dance on top of a parking deck with your friends, watch the sunrise, have a picnic on the field, write a poem, eat lunch with someone different, have fun in your least favorite class, make a new best friend, share your testimony with someone, go out to eat with your friends on a Monday night, step out of your comfort zone, give a lot of hugs, don't be afraid to tell a good dad joke, laugh until you cry, smile because someone's always looking up to you, and when you're living out these tiny perfect moments, take pictures. To Lower School and Prospective Westminster Parents: I wish I could tell my first-grade self what a sacrifice my parents were making. I wish I could tell her that the 13-year journey she was just beginning would change her life, and by the end, she would be more than prepared to go out into the world on her own. If I could go back, I would tell her to thank her parents every day for the money and time they were spending. And I would tell her that despite all the difficult moments she finds herself in, she will come out the other side stronger, and it will all be worth it. Parents, it's worth it. The sacrifices you make to send your child to this school do not go unnoticed. Because of you, they will grow up in a school that makes prayer a priority, surrounded by teachers who truly care about them, and loved by friends who will be by their side no matter what. So on behalf of your child, thank you. Once a Wildcat.