The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth - Alexandra Robbins [179]
That afternoon, between periods, D’Arnell approached Joy and Latrice. He talked with them briefly, then cocked his head at Joy. “Your accent is so funny,” he said. “Where are you from?”
Joy cracked up. She had known D’Arnell since January and he never thought to ask.
“She’s from Jamaica, duh!” Latrice answered.
“Ohh,” D’Arnell said, thrusting his arms in the air. “You’re the Jamaican girl! Everyone’s been talking about you. You’re like the daily gossip, everyone asking me if I know this black Jamaican girl that moved here. Man,” he continued, “you are really popular . . . and the entire time, I’ve been hanging out with you. Whoa!”
Joy laughed in surprise. People had called her many things, this year and always, but never once had she so much as imagined that classmates would consider her popular.
BLUE, HAWAII | THE GAMER
When Blue’s class filed into the arena, the noise was deafening. The stands were so packed that people spilled into the aisles and stood along the walls. In between camera flashes, Blue could make out some of the banners, featuring messages and photographs of students that families held for their high school graduates. “Aloha nui loa” (“All my love”). “A hui hou kakou” (“Until we meet again”) for a student entering the military. Blue was relieved that he wasn’t headed in that direction.
When the students took their seats, the crowd sang “The Star Spangled Banner,” “Hawaii Pono’i” (the state song), and Kaloke’s alma mater. After various dignitaries spoke, the vice principals presented plaques to each of the school’s valedictorians. Blue was proud to see all of his SCH teammates receive their plaques, but watching Michael stride across the stage gave him a special joy.
After receiving her plaque, Angelique remained on stage to give the valedictorians’ address:6 “From the vantage of someone living a thousand years from now, the [last four years] may seem negligible. What that person may not realize is that each of those days have been as precious and unpredictable as this one. The yearbooks most of us have contain images of that time passing in a certain way. They set the conditions for a nostalgic expedition. Any memories evoked by our yearbooks take place ‘now’ at the moment they are called up in the mind. Every memory is a re-creation, not a playback. When we remember, we focus on certain facts and emotions, and become active participants in re-creating memories. Often we are guilty of restraining ourselves because of past embarrassments or limitations. We should never let those memories dictate or limit our futures; high school is not a model for the rest of our lives. It is only a stepping stone, a foundation for future success.
“Any way you look at it, what made being in school interesting is that most of us are different from one another. Isn’t there something a little fantastic about that? It’s those differences in who we are, and the connections we make with each other despite those differences, that will make us great as adults.
“Some of us may be at the point in our lives where we are desperately trying to define ourselves. If you think you’re one of those people, look to your teachers, parents, and friends. They are and always have been, the reasons you’ve grown up the way you have. My teachers encourage me to think deeply, my parents teach me to be kind and fair, and my friends inspire me and share their insights with me—Mark Laurent, the muse that speaks through me tonight, is the best example of an unconventional thinker that brings out the best in other people. Just like me, your understanding of the world is shaped by the people you love, and soon your constructions of the world will guide others. . . .
“It is now time for our expedition into life after high school. Let us move forward