Parking was not a problem. The band never missed a beat. There was no danger from flying mortarboards. Speeches were short and sweet.
Morristown High School’s 2020 commencement was picture-perfect on Wednesday. Make that, pandemic-perfect.
The Coronavirus Class graduated the way it has done everything else this spring — online.
Acknowledging the strangeness of it all, Valedictorian Sophia Duby quipped that she prepared her virtual speech early Wednesday morning, “after watching two full seasons of The Office.”
“We’ve spent the past three months attending virtual school. Our dining room or kitchen tables, even our beds, became our classrooms. Our backyards and sidewalks morphed into our workout areas, and our phones became our lifelines to the outside world.
“We’ve spent a lot, and I mean a lot, of time with our families,” said Duby, who is bound for Columbia University, whenever it reopens.
The pre-recorded commencement video, running just over an hour, was posted at the time when the real event would have occurred.
It contained many reflections about the Lost Semester, from canceled proms to a we-can-survive-anything sense of resolve.
There weren’t even any diplomas. These 462 grads will get them in a drive-through procession over the weekend.
Cap-and-gown photo sessions are ongoing all week, with outdoor ceremonies planned for July 8 and 9, adhering to whatever social distancing guidelines are in play at that time.
‘HISTORIANS WILL WRITE ABOUT YOU’
Praising seniors for their “tremendous grace and dignity,” Principal Mark Manning said a “collective spirit of resilience … will forever mark the class of 2020.”
“Historians will write about you for years to come and what you did in the face of extraordinary circumstances,” said Nancy Bangiola, president of the Morris School District board. “What would you like them to say?”
Student Government President Mia Cecala said her classmates’ legacy includes food drives and other community projects.
“No matter what we go on to face in the future,” she said, “we will be the people that not only know how to pick ourselves back up, but also know how to lift those around us.”
Salutatorian Peter Hong presented origami — fashioned from old math papers, he said — as a metaphor for the class.
“The beauty of this piece of paper, much like all of us, lies in its metamorphosis, its ability to change from an unexciting everyday object to an intricate work of art,” said Hong, who plans to study biochemistry at the University of Pennsylvania.
While this transformation has been frustrating at times, he said, the Class of ’20 has “developed the resilience and determination to withstand the wear and tear of life….so go out there and show us all what you can make.”
There were no direct references to the other crisis marking their senior year, the national protests demanding justice and equality after the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis.
But Duby, the valedictorian, suggested students had been shaped by the diversity of Morristown High School, where “we have all developed empathy for those who are different, as well as strength of independent thought, forged by respecting the differences that make each of us so unique.”
She expressed excitement about voting in the 2020 election, and urged classmates to make their voices heard at the ballot box.
‘WE WILL NOT BE PITIED’
The presentation had a few familiar touches, in addition to speeches.
Anne Merritt sang the National Anthem, and was joined by Amelia Colecchia and Matt Lebel for the Alma Mater.
A recording of Pomp and Circumstance played as each graduate’s name was announced, along with a portrait. Without handshakes, hugs or customary confusion, the process moved along more briskly than it normally does inside the Mennen Arena.
The production’s unsung star was its producer, Kevin Crawford, the student behind the school’s Colonial Corner broadcasts and chief engineer of its radio station, WJSV. He’ll be studying computer science at Rowan University.
Closing clips of grads flinging their caps in backyards, parks, and at MHS were surprisingly poignant. An invisible virus was visibly separating young people from a communal rite of passage.
But Class President Katie Baskin was not hosting any pity parties.
“Some of us may feel cheated, or empty or hopeless. And while others may define us by our losses, we must challenge ourselves to define our future by what we can do to make the world a better place,” Baskin said.
“We are not, and we will not, be pitied for what we don’t have or didn’t get. What we will do is make sure that we can be better as individuals,” she said, exhorting her peers to speak out against injustice.
“The world is changing,” Baskin said, “and we have to make sure it’s for the better.”
