Senior Assembly: Class of 2026

On Wednesday, May 20, seniors, their parents, and the rest of the Burroughs community gathered in Haertter Hall for the annual Senior Assembly. Speakers included senior class president Sameera Rao '26 and Scott Deken (Science). Mr. Abbott closed the assembly by sharing fond memories of the Class of 2026, both his own and those of other faculty members.

After assembly, seniors and their parents gathered for a short reception hosted by the Alumni Association. 

Sameera's and Dr. Deken's remarks are below, followed by photos from the assembly and reception.

More photos available on the Burroughs SmugMug account.

*****

Sameera Rao's Remarks

Good morning, everyone and welcome, students, faculty, parents, Mr. Abbott and of course, the Class of 2026. One of my favorite songs is by a band called Wilco, and the title is “When You Wake Up Feeling Old." And for all of us on stage, today is just one of those days when it’s almost impossible not to be sitting here together, looking out at all of you, and feel like nothing has changed.  

From your angle in the audience, we may look like the same people you saw nine months ago on the first day of our senior year. Of course, every year at this school changes us, as individuals and as a class, but after experiencing it, there’s something so unique to senior year that intensifies this change. I think I speak for all of us when I say that since the last time we were sitting on this stage together, we’ve been through the unrelenting whirlwind of senior year. Supplemental essays, Senior Nights, special traditions, and celebrations have slowly given way to new types of friendships, reflections about our identity, and a budding sense of maturity as we prepare to move from one phase of our lives to another.  

Although it’s been nearly a month since we had our last real day of school together, there's been one thing that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. It was my final Urban Studies class, and Mr. Wagner gave us his advice about what the next couple of months might feel like, as we process our graduation. He told us that there are moments in life where you experience something for the last time, and you don't even know it. It’s kind of crazy to think about, but we’ve all done this countless times this year. It’s something so simple as the last time you sat at a lunch table with all your friends, the last time you walked to practice with your team, the last time you ran into assembly just as the bell rang. But on the other hand, Mr. Wagner told us that there were the moments that we do know are special, the ones we’ve anticipated for years. Things like looking at the stars before falling asleep on the gravel bar, hearing Mr. Abbott rhyme your name at pep rally, getting handed that yellow rose on Senior Night, the applause and closing of the curtains after our last performances, and the graduation ahead of us. These moments, where we’re so conscious of it being “the end," feel so much harder because it’s an acknowledgment of the fact that, whether we’re ready or not, we can never go back to this time.

This is why I think the quieter moments of this year were way better, and let me tell you about my favorite. Our class was fresh off our unforgettable performance of "Milkshake" for the pep rally, and on our way to the bonfire. Usually at this time, we would be tugging on the ropes surrounding the bonfire, waiting for the seniors to run onto the field for high fives. But this time, everyone was waiting for us. It was dark, and we were walking slowly towards the field, so excited and hyped up for the moment, and the year right in front of us. We were singing, chanting something about beating the Rams, holding each other’s hands, and vlogging for our future selves. I remember looking around at everyone as we passed Graduation Grove and getting a little teary-eyed just thinking about how far we’ve come since awkwardly tossing Rubik's Cubes to each other across computer screens. We used to be strangers, and now we’re a group of 114 people permanently tied together by inside jokes and “three years ago today” flashbacks, relationships and experiences that have quietly shaped us into who we are today.  

One of my favorite aspects of Burroughs culture happens when the bell rings at the end of class. It’s when everyone finishes packing up, and we all say thank you to our teacher for a good lesson. I can’t ever remember someone telling me or anyone else to do that, but I also can’t remember a class where it hasn’t happened. Even if even if Mrs. Randall just told us she’s checking homework tomorrow, or even if Dr. Barnes just assigned us a test for the very next day, and yes, even if we’ve just been given 60 pages of reading from “The Best We Could Do,” almost everyone shouts out a genuine “thank you!” just as they walk across the threshold of the door.  

Today, it’s our very last assembly. We are at a threshold, walking through the doorway of our time at Burroughs. So, on behalf of our class, and in the spirit of it being the year of gratitude, thank you to all of you for getting us here today. To our beloved teachers who, for the past six years, taught us how to observe and make sense of the world, to the coaches who showed us our own strength, to our teammates who hugged us no matter how sweaty we were, to our younger friends and siblings who kept us laughing, and of course, to our parents for loving and supporting us through it all. We absolutely could not sit here on the stage without each and every one of you. And last but not least, we have to thank each other, our Class of 2026, for opening up and sharing the most silly, emotional, authentic parts of ourselves, and for creating a home for each other at this school.  

As we move on from this moment together to our lives hundreds of miles apart, I wish everyone the best of luck. We’ve accomplished so much already, and I can’t wait for us to cheer each other on in whatever the future brings. We’ll see you all on Field Day to claim one last tug-of-war championship, but in the meantime, happy last assembly to the Class of 2026! Thank you.

*****

Scott Deken's Remarks
 

First, I want to thank the senior class for selecting me to speak with you today. It truly is a great honor. 

You have changed this school in so many ways and changed all of us. I don’t mean this figuratively; I mean this literally. My brain is literally different because of you. All of you Neuroscience students know, our memories are created by changing the structure of the brain. 

As I look at this class, my brain started changing very early because I’ve known so many of you for so long. Of course, the first one of you that I got to know was Carter — no doubt he’s changed me the most. Starting with that drop in testosterone that comes with having a kid. You can thank Carter for how calm I am now! And Carter helped introduce me to so many of you. 

Grover as Carter’s first best friend. The story goes that on the first day of pre-K, Grover asked Carter to be his best friend. Carter said, "OK," and their lives have been intertwined ever since. Thank you, Grover, for putting up with him and thank you for teaching me how to ski and never making fun of me or taking pictures of me when I fall. 

I remember the “Letterland” production in 1st grade and Sophie as Yo-Yo Man. At the age of 7 or 8, I was able to get to know Anna better as she accompanied her family on the Florida baseball trip. I remember her and Carter playing in the dirt and making forts underneath the stands. 

I coached some of you in youth baseball — Carter, Spencer, Grover, Jasper, Duff, Elijah, Tyler. As an opponent, we played Hank, who played for his dad’s team. We recently figured out he was hitless against us — maybe that’s why he hit last on his dad’s team!

Speaking of opponents, I remember Oscar strolling into a 4th grade basketball game as an opposing player at the Clayton Center with his huge earphones on and looking so cool. 

Early in your 7th grade year, I remember seeing Cooper Strahorn and others as you were about to embark on your canoe trip on the Mississippi River instead of 7th Grade Drey Land. You all had masks on then, and only half of you were at school each day, so it was a bit tough to get to know you, and I know it was tough for some of you to get to know each other.

In 8th grade, I traveled with many of you and Frau Stafford by train to Chicago. So much fun. We walked really fast everywhere, and Coach Desloge had to go to Morgan and Reece’s room to beg the police to let you off! Also while you were in 8th grade, I got to know more of you through coaching middle school baseball — adding Deven to the mix that I hadn’t gotten to know yet. 

Just before your 9th grade year, I helped with Drey Land Plus. What a fun group! I have a vivid memory of you all sitting around the campfire, laughing and talking enthusiastically before your quiet walk. 

I got to know many more of you as your 10th grade chemistry teacher — Cole, Fin, Bailey, Johnny, Maeve, Avery, Jane, Hank, Jayla, Jane, Tristan, and Camryn. Yes, that was my class. I remember when I showed Mr. Abbott my class list, he immediately offered me a raise so I would stay at Burroughs. That year, I also took a Programming for the Web class with some of you — I never would have passed anything had I not had Hank helping me each step of the way. And thank you, Molly, in your junior year, for patiently helping me tie different kinds of knots when I took Theater Production with you. 

This year, I got to teach some of you again in Neuroscience or BioEthics — Maeve, Jane, and Jayla. And I got to know many of you much better as your Neuroscience or BioEthics teacher. My first ever all-female class — Anna, Alma, Moriyah, Georgia, Kate, Caroline, Alex, Mayumi, Iris, and Morgan Wright. And my rowdy class — Morgan Cade, Ethan, Carter, Maeve, Aayan, Ella, Jane Hooper, Mara, Molly, Reese, Oscar, Addison, and Camden. Poor Morgan Cade had to also had to have me as a teacher this year in BioEthics along with Timi, Zach, Lucy, Devin, Perla, Duff, Grover, Sophie, Kate, Olivia, RB, Finn, Jayla, Tyler, Mitchell, Maddie, and Teddy Williamson. What a crew! I will remember this year as one of the most fun years that I’ve had teaching. Thank you all for that. 

As a baseball coach, I’ve gotten to know the five senior players so well — Carter, Deven, Elijah, Hank, and Duff. Even seeing you go tarps off this past Sunday at the Cardinals game! Some amazing moments stand out — no-hitters, complete games, doubles, home runs | and I’ve seen you all overcome some tough moments. And our three outstanding managers — Anna, Jansen, and Addison — who love to give me crap, even making me a T-shirt to make sure I remember how much I love my managers. 

I have gotten to know many more of you as a fan or an audience member at your games and performances. And of course, I’ve gotten to know a lot of you as Carter’s dad. I adore this class. Not just because my son is in it, but because you guys have made the most of this place, you’ve put your mark on it in so many ways, including the best assemblies we’ve had in years (good job, Jerry and company), and you’ve made it fun. I will remember the Class of 2026 with great affection. 

I feel like I’ve had a front-row seat to your development. And because I’m a neuroscience teacher, I can’t help but look at this graduating class and think about what is happening inside your heads — specifically, your hippocampus. 

The hippocampus is the part of the brain that moves information from short-term to long-term memory. But you don’t just need your hippocampus to remember the past. You need it to imagine the future. The hippocampus is essentially a mental time travel machine. 

As you head to college, I want you to use that machine. Don’t just let high school be a "thing that happened." Analyze it. Look back at the study strategies that worked — and the ones that were total disasters. Look at your friendships. Which friends made you feel like the best version of yourself? What qualities did they have? Were they kind? Were they curious? Were they the ones who pushed you to be better? 

When you get to campus, don’t just wait for friends to happen to you. Use your "time machine" to look for those specific qualities in the new people you meet. 

Memories are not video recordings. You don't "play" a memory; you reconstruct it. 

When I look back at my own life, the "recordings" are gone, but the reconstructions are vivid. I remember the gravel driveway of my childhood, riding my Big Wheel tricycle down the hill and the joy of pulling the brake to spin out. I remember sitting in front of the TV at seven years old watching the Cardinals win the World Series — I couldn’t tell you the stats of the game, but I can still feel the presence of my mom and dad sitting there with me. 

At about 7 or 8, I remember how badly I wanted the Michael Jackson “Thriller” album. My dad told me I could have it if I stacked a massive pile of wood for our furnace. I worked so hard, and while moving a piece of wood, I got a piece lodged in my eye, ended up in the ER, and had to wear an eye patch for two weeks. But when I finally got that record? It was totally worth it. 

We remember the things that make us feel. Your brain prioritizes emotion. Georgia will probably always remember the surprise of getting hit in the face with a water balloon on her last day of high school. Carter! 

I remember my first day of high school. I had just moved from the "big city" of Cape Girardeau to a house in the woods where I wouldn’t know anyone on my first day of 9th grade year. I took a 22-mile bus ride to school each day. The first time I rode the bus the driver had to stop it on some country road because one of the kid's pigs had gotten out of their pen and were all over the road and we had to wait for him to round them up. A few days later, in my English class, a classmate in front of me was scraping something off his boots that smelled horrific — it was cow manure. I remember for those first couple of weeks sitting alone at lunch and feeling very out of place. I was eventually accepted and made some lifelong friends, but it was a tough beginning. 

Your class has your own version of this. Your first week at JBS was defined by COVID, and many of you felt very isolated. You didn't get the normal 7th Grade Drey Land experience or Blue & Gold pep rally. For the first part of the year, half of you were at school while the other half were home. 

It was messy, it was stressful, but eventually you have become so close. You are such a kind group, and I feel like you haven’t taken for granted the opportunity that Burroughs and your parents have given you. 

We don’t remember every single thing that has happened, and that is a good thing. Forgetting isn’t a bug in the human brain; it’s a feature. If we remembered every single time we burned our tongue on a hot cup of coffee, our brains would be cluttered with useless data. Wisdom is the ability to forget the specific incident of pain but remember the general rule: Always take a tiny sip test before gulping a steaming drink. 

In college, you will face "hot cups of coffee". You’ll have minor social slights, awkward interactions, or a bad grade. Learn from these experiences, but don’t dwell on them. Move on. Healthy forgetting allows you to grow. 

We don’t show the strikeouts in our highlight reels, but we shouldn’t pretend they didn't happen, either. Don’t create a false memory that high school was perfect, or you’ll set impossible expectations for college. But conversely, don’t let one "strikeout" — a bad chemistry test, a failed lead in the play — turn into a global failure where you think you’re "bad at everything." 

Practice intellectual humility. Accept that your memory of an event might be biased. It’s good to journal and take lots of pictures. They are the "ground truth" when your brain tries to rewrite your history. 

As you move forward, you’re going to feel stress. If you have zero stress, you’re bored and unmotivated. But with moderate stress — what we call “eustress” — you become highly focused, alert, and efficient. Performance increases with stress, but only up to a point. Find that sweet spot of moderate stress where you are performing at your best. Lean into that energy. You aren't going to college to be comfortable; you’re going to be transformed. And comfort rarely leads to transformation. 

As I wrap this up, I’ll give you a few pointers from a Neuroscience point of view: 

• Multitasking is a myth; it just hurts your memory. Remove distractions when you're trying to learn. 
• Sleep is when your memories consolidate. If you don't sleep, you don't learn. Get your sleep.
• Exercise increases BDNF — essentially "Miracle-Gro" for your brain. Get your exercise. 

Class of 2026, you are the architects of your own histories. You aren't just passive observers of your lives. You get to choose which stories you keep and which ones you let go. 

Remind yourself that you’ve been in tough spots before. You survived Taff’s geometry tests, Gillanders’ poetry unit, Wagner’s multiple-multiple choice tests, and Winters’ physics exams. You survived friend troubles, the disappointment of not getting that leadership position or the playing time you wanted. You found a way through and grown by using your experiences to forge a path forward. 

Your life is not just what happened to you. It’s what you remember, what you keep, and what you choose to carry forward. 

Pay attention to your life. Be present in it. Hold onto the people who make you better. And don’t be afraid to rewrite your story in a way that helps you grow. Because your memories are not just a record of your past — they are the foundation of your future. 

I’ve loved being your coach, your travel companion, your classmate, your teacher, your fan, and, of course, your dad. But most of all, I’ve loved watching you become who you are today. I’m excited to see what you do with your lives. 

Congratulations. Now go build some great memories.