Submitted by Matthew Riggs, RSD 17 Board of Education
(June 23, 2026) — The following are the student speeches that were delivered at the graduation ceremony held at Haddam- Killingworth High School on June 18, 2026:
Welcome: Class of 2026 Leadership Team Members Catherine Nguyen and Payton Rich
(Payton) Good evening, and thank you for joining us for the Class of 2026’s graduation ceremony. My name is Payton Rich, and I have had the privilege of being a class leader throughout high school. I would like to begin by saying how proud I am of each and every one of my fellow graduates. Your hard work, determination, and resilience have brought you to this moment, and you should be incredibly proud of all that you have accomplished. Today, I encourage everyone to take a moment to celebrate your individual achievements and the challenges you have overcome throughout high school. But also take a moment to recognize how far we have come together as a class. It has been a wonderful experience growing up alongside all of you in the HK community. Over the years, we have learned from one another, supported one another, and created lasting memories together. It has been a blessing to be part of the close-knit, supportive, and strong community that HK represents. As we move forward into the next chapter of our lives, change may feel intimidating, but it also brings new opportunities. Be optimistic about the future, believe in yourselves, and continue putting in the effort to achieve your goals. Thank you.
(Catherine) Hello, my name is Catherine Nguyen. Just like Payton, I have also been a class leader during my time here. In my four years at HK, I have witnessed the growth of each and every one of you. I know that this class will go on to do great things. Stay true to yourself. Be the best you that you can be. I promise that life will work out for you. At times, life feels like it’s impossible, that the universe is out to get you. In these moments, believe in the strength that has pulled you out of every tough time before. Believe in the people around you who love you unconditionally. The connections you make are vital as you continue into adulthood. I remember how scared I was to start high school. Freshly 14, feeling like I knew nothing at all. Four years later, I can admit that I still don’t know anything at all, but high school has importantly taught me how to continue on, persevering even if you don’t know what you’re doing all of the time. In my opinion, that’s life. All of us are capable of pushing forward. That is what I hope will stay with you. It has been a great pleasure to grow up with you all. Congratulations, Class of 2026, and thank you.
Salutatorian Speech: Amelia Riggs
Good afternoon, everyone. I would like to thank you all for coming today to celebrate the graduating class of 2026. You—families, friends, teachers, coaches, administrators, and other staff—are what have shaped our experiences at HK, supported and encouraged us through tough moments, and celebrated, laughed, and smiled with us on our happiest days. I would especially like to thank my mom, dad, and sister for their unwavering support, and also my friends, teammates, coaches, and teachers, who I appreciate tremendously, and are what I will miss most about HK in the years to come.
As we enter a new chapter of our lives, I have been reflecting on our years at HK while simultaneously wondering what the future may bring. For those of you who do not know me well, I am an avid book and movie enthusiast. The most recent book series I started is a dystopian tale called Red Rising. It is very good, by the way. I would highly recommend reading it and yes, I promise, this is not a paid promotion! The main character in the series, Darrow, is a boy who marries at the age of 16 and leads entire wars by the age of 20. Reflecting on this, I realized that so much of what we read and watch emphasizes that the teenage years are a time for exploring the world, and by the time these years have passed, we should know our purpose in life. Harry Potter got his wand at 11 and defeated Voldemort by 17. In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man becomes a full avenger at 17. Katniss Everdeen wins the Hunger Games at 16.
As children, it felt like we had an eternity to reach our late teens, boundless time to explore and dream until we arrived at the point where the heroes we admired on pages and screens set out on their great adventures. The characters in these stories seem to have their entire lives figured out while embarking on incredible journeys. Yet now, having reached that age, it is easy to feel as though we are met with only the added responsibilities that accompany adulthood, not the adrenaline rush of some fantasy-filled destiny.
Faced with an uncertain future, it can feel as if we have fallen behind. But we have not. I guarantee that Spider-Man, Katniss Everdeen, and Harry Potter did not actually “have it all figured out” by the end of their stories—they simply decided where their next steps would lead and started moving toward those goals. And who really knows what Harry Potter did after graduating Hogwarts? He could have stayed working in the wizarding government, or maybe just as easily saved the world a second time, become the new headmaster of Hogwarts, or even become an abstract painter. Anything we can imagine is possible. And I think that is the point.
We are told these stories as if the heroes have it all figured out—but underneath every great adventure, they were all just trying to understand who they are and where they belong in the world. In that way, they are not so different from us right now. Like the characters’ uncertain futures after their written stories have come to a close, our exploration of the world must be a continuous process, not limited to our youth. And if you do not see the hero in your story right now—if it feels as if your teen years have lacked adventure, don’t worry—there’s still time.
We only get one shot at this life. So, as we walk out of here today, I hope we each carry with us the dreams we had as kids while looking to the heroes in our stories—the ones that lit us up before the world told us to be realistic. Because if we are not moving toward those dreams, are we truly taking advantage of the time we have been given? Are we staying true to ourselves, and to the person our younger selves always hoped we would become? I do not think any of us has it figured out yet, and that is okay. What matters is that we keep asking questions, keep taking the next step, and keep moving forward. The adventure is not something that happens to us. It is something we choose. Congratulations, Class of 2026, and good luck!
Valedictorian Speech: Tetsuya Imai
Good afternoon, esteemed Board members and administrators, valued guests, relieved parents, bored siblings, and of course, the 2026 graduating class of Haddam-Killingworth High School.
I’m honored and grateful for the opportunity to speak to you all today. But before I begin, there are some people who I must thank. I want to thank my family: my parents, my sister, and my grandma who traveled all the way from Japan to be here today and will no doubt be applauding enthusiastically through every sentence she does not understand.
I want to thank all the teachers who have endured questions like “Is this graded?,” put up with the Chromebook games, or somehow managed a straight face during presentations that may or may not have come together the night before. They deserve our utmost gratitude for supporting, mentoring, and pushing us from awkward freshmen to the capable graduates before you today.
About a month and a half ago, I was in a car accident. I was driving here, actually, heading to a lacrosse game, when I was on Beaver Meadow Road, which, for you out-of-towners, is a winding road with rolling hills and thick woods hugging both sides. So there I was driving, enjoying myself when, all of a sudden I heard this thunderous and explosive cracking noise from what I now know to have been an enormous tree. In the split second after hearing it, the top of my windshield was smashed and the front of my car jolted up as if I had run over a speed bump. For a moment, I just sat there, baffled and trying to gather my thoughts at what had just happened. I checked myself and, miraculously, found only a scratch on the outside of my left knee.
What transpired next is mostly a blur: climbing out of my car, dialing 911, speaking with the police officer, and getting examined by the paramedic, but what I distinctly recall is the conversation with my dad up the hill from my totaled car. As we stood there, a fireman approached us and said to me, “You’re very lucky to be walking right now. You see that limb jutting out of your car?” He pointed down at the thick branch protruding from my car’s wheel well, “It shot up through your car’s fender and into your steering column,” he said, “lifting up your entire dashboard.”
He then gestured at me, “I’m guessing that’s where the scratch on your knee is from; another couple of inches and it might’ve gone through your leg.” As you can imagine, my dad and I were stunned, and after thanking the fireman, neither of us knew what to say for some time. Until my dad broke the silence and said, “It’s a reminder to live a life of consequence because it can be taken at any moment.” Ever since, I’ve found myself returning to those words again and again, trying to glean new meaning and pondering how I can achieve this ‘life of consequence.’ Because moments like this where life reminds us of its fragility, show us a life built on comfort alone is a life half-lived.
And with each of your decisions and along your path you’ll find people who doubt you, don’t believe in you, don’t understand you. They’ll say: “Does he think he can really do that?” or “Why is she even trying?” It is phrases and remarks like these that remind me of a story about philosopher and writer Henry David Thoreau.
On a summer evening in 1846, in the small town of Concord, Massachusetts, Henry was arrested and thrown into jail after refusing to pay his taxes. As a fervent abolitionist, he opposed this tax on moral grounds, arguing he didn’t want his money supporting slavery or the Mexican-American War. And so there he sat, in a hot cell, on his tiny cot. Thought of by many as stubborn, unrealistic and perhaps foolish, to me, he was bold, for he chose the discomfort of consequence over the comfort of compromise.
And that night, so the story goes, his friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson comes to visit him in the cell. Henry looks up to Ralph who’s standing outside and Ralph’s looking back down at him and asks, “Henry, why are you in there?” to which Henry fires back, “Ralph, why are you out there?”
Now this is certainly no endorsement for getting yourself arrested, but rather a call to stand firmly by your convictions. Because I believe our closest-held aspirations require the digging in of our heels. It is paramount that you resist the temptation to be passive. Falling to routine and comfort slowly dampens our ability to notice and challenge our limits. And perhaps one of the greatest consequences of living passively is that we overlook the value in our own lives.
In Regina Brett’s novel, God Never Blinks, she shares a thought experiment that reframed my perspective on hardship, and I’d like to share it with you all today. Think of your greatest struggles, fears, problems, insecurities, and disappointments. Now imagine writing them down and everyone else in the world writing theirs down too and adding them to a towering pile. All of our problems in front of you.
Now, would you risk grabbing one to exchange it with yours? I imagine most, if not all, of you would not, and though it’s a simple thought experiment, I find its wisdom has profound implications for us. Many of us think our problems are the end of the world. Many of us think “Why me?” or “I don’t understand why I have to deal with this”. Maybe your problems aren’t as big as you think they are; they’re just big because they’re yours. It’s a reminder that gratitude is not exclusive to your blessings but your own unique struggles and imperfections.
This simple reframing forces us to recognize something we too often forget: Your ordinary is someone else’s dream. And when you truly grasp that, gratitude and compassion begin to replace comparison and judgement. To conclude, I’d like to leave you with the following advice, which you can take without the inconvenience of totaling a car. Whatever path you take after here, pursue it wholeheartedly. I implore you to do it while you’re tired. Do it unmotivated. Do it when no one is watching. And do it even when you feel like the world’s beating you down.
Because somewhere, there’s someone who wishes they had the same opportunities as you. Someone who would give anything to be where you are right now Congratulations to all of us, and here’s to a new beginning. Thank you.
Farewell: Gabriel Blair and Finnegan O’Hanlon
(Gabriel) Earlier, within these past few weeks, when the topic of graduation was brought up to my fellow class leaders, I was excited to be a part of the planning and preparation that comes with this esteemed tradition. Not because it marked the end of our years of work and dedication, but because I knew we could do something a little different to truly show our impact as the class of 2026. Originally, I had said to myself that it would be a great idea to add a slight twist to the ceremony. An idea so great, in fact, that I waited until Ms. Hayward ended the meeting and walked out of the room before saying anything about it. I was hesitant. Doubtful. Not of myself, but of what others would deem it.
Leadership should be sharing ideas, the true culmination of all good things, people, agendas, put into the right place. I had thought of my years here at HK, and realized that I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to speak to my fellow classmates one last time. So, when Ms. Hayward returned to the classroom because she had forgotten her bottled water, I took God’s plan and decided to run with it, asking her if we could uniquely include farewell speeches at the end of our ceremony. For the same reason I elected not to speak, is the same reason I invite you all to listen today.
“If you could go back, would you have done it differently?”
A common question, sure, (but one with enough complexity for me to make a speech about it). I know for all of us there’s that one person we wish we met sooner, the one test we wished we studied harder for, or even that cringe quarantine TikTok that really shouldn’t have been posted for the world to see. But these things happened, and there’s nothing more we can do. I personally like to think the question means nothing. Because, in the end, we would still know nothing of the “do-over.” The perfect situation in your head will be different if that second chance was given. I ask all of you, and my classmates especially, to value where you are now. Value everything you’ve been given, everything you’ve lost, everything that you gave. Where you are right now is set. Where you’ll go? That’s irresolute. The struggles of today should not dictate the outcomes of tomorrow. That doubt and fear you’ve had doesn’t go away… but always know your resilience doesn’t have to either.
My time here has been nothing short of blessed. This class has potential like I’ve never seen before. Each and every one of you is valued and has something so unique to share, and it’s why I’m so confident in all of our futures. Don’t get caught up in what was. Focus on what is. Thank you, and good luck to the class of 2026. Remain resilient.
(Finnegan) Good afternoon, family and friends. I am so honored that I get to speak today on behalf of our class. I know I am the last one to speak, and I will do my absolute best to make this brief.
It is hard to put into words how much this community means to me. First and foremost, I would like to say that these past four years have been the most transformative and valuable years of my life, and I would like to thank you all for giving me such an incredible experience.
But today is not just about looking back. It is about recognizing who we have become as a class. While this might sound biased, the Class of 2026 is one of the greatest classes in HKHS history. We are scholars, athletes, artists, performers, leaders. But most importantly, we are genuinely good people. People who show up for each other, who push each other, and who have built a community worth remembering. And even a class like ours—strong, talented, and full of potential—still learns the same lesson that life teaches all of us.
As we leave here today, I think it is important to remember that life rarely goes according to plan. There will be moments when things do not happen the way we hope. There will be setbacks, disappointments and challenges that feel impossible to understand at the moment. I can tell you from firsthand experience that even when life seems to be at its very best, the world can take aim at your knees and try to bring you down. Difficult times have a way of making us question ourselves and our futures. It is easy to point fingers, dwell on what could have been, or collapse into wondering why things unfold the way they do.
But I have learned that no matter what life puts in front of us, we always have a choice. We can sink into defeat, or we can stand defiantly in the face of adversity. We can allow our circumstances to define us, or we can choose how we respond to them. We are entering a world full of problems, but also opportunities for us to make the world a better place.
So as we move forward into this next chapter, I do not wish for you an easy life. I wish for you the courage to face challenges, the resilience to overcome setbacks, and the confidence to pursue your own unique path. I wish for you the strength and the will to achieve your own version of greatness. Class of 2026, thank you for the memories, the friendships, and the journey. Congratulations, and may we all have the courage to become the people we are meant to be.
Photos by Gerry Matthews
