Below is the full transcript of Noam’s speech delivered at the Commencement Ceremony in 2024. If you would prefer to watch and listen to his inspiring words, a video recording is available below. Used with permission.
One of the hardest parts of joining a Waldorf school for me was Eurythmy. If you’ve never seen Eurythmy performed, it can be quite hard to wrap your head around. So I’ll do my best to explain it. I’ve described it as kind of like an interpretive dance, but with certain frameworks for what certain movements mean. Also, sometimes it’s like a puppet show. Oh, and whenever it’s performed, the dancers wear flowing silk robes. I’ve certainly received strange looks when talking about it. The Waldorf description sounds more like connecting your soul to the cosmos or making your internal world external, which makes equally less sense at first. The important thing to know is that Eurythmy is a movement art that’s not taught anywhere but Waldorf schools.
When I started high school, Eurythmy seemed like the most colossal waste of time, and I could not justify spending even one hour a week in what amounted to a complicated puzzle that I was sure was engineered to cause me misery. I remember a moment while doing Eurythmy over Zoom (yeah, that was a thing) when we were told to grip a pencil with our toes and draw a star with our feet. Sitting alone in my room watching the seconds tick by, I wished I could be literally anywhere else. And lost in my own contempt, I missed my ability to actually do the exercise. I snapped out of it when we were asked to show our work, and in a panic, I held up a completely blank piece of paper and blamed my camera’s glare for the evident lack of stars drawn by feet.
My relationship to your Eurythmy has significantly changed over the years. This would be a strange thing to talk about if it hadn’t. Throughout high school, but especially this past year, I’ve come to respect, and I dare say, even enjoy Eurythmy. So what changed? The biggest thing that changed was my attitude. Initially, when I started doing Eurythmy in person, I was frustrated with the inconsistencies I saw in Eurythmy class. Eurythmy is a group exercise, and our class’ movements weren’t perfectly timed to the music. Each week, we would emphasize different parts of the words, and sometimes in the time between Eurythmy classes, the form we walked would be forgotten or altered. This irritated me to no end, and I remember spending many of my freshman, sophomore and even junior year Eurythmy classes, arguing with my classmates or even my teacher, the lovely Ms. Bergmann. I wanted Eurythmy to be like a math or a science class. Precise, exact and with a definitively correct way of doing it. This mindset made the classes incredibly difficult for me, and I remember when I first saw our junior year schedule with Eurythmy twice a week, I nearly cried.
So I began incredibly slowly, the process of accepting that Eurythmy was not a precise mechanical endeavor, but a way to express oneself, to work together with others, and to reflect on the space we inhabit as humans. And when performing Eurythmy with this mindset, I discovered a feeling in a moment when the group tunes into something, tunes into some unexplainable connection or force, a moment when the movement becomes bigger than any individual or even the group as a whole. It’s not something I can neatly fit into a scientific explanation or even explain clearly. But since when has Eurythmy been easy to explain?
I think my experience with Eurythmy is a microcosm of my experience with Waldorf as a whole. I came in with incredibly rigid ideas about how high school should look and how it should act and behave as a person. Time and time again, these preconceived notions were challenged, and I was forced to grow, to push myself to be more understanding and well rounded. There are so many things I’ve learned from this Waldorf school, and even if I never do Eurythmy ever again in my whole life, I know that I now have the skills to try something new, to fail, to not understand, to withhold my judgment and to let myself just feel as I walk into the next chapter of my life. So thank you to my classmates for sticking with me while I was argumentative or frustrated. Thank you Ms. Bergmann for being such a lovely, incredible Eurythmy teacher. And thank you Waldorf for helping push me out of my comfort zone and letting me try something kind of strange, but really cool. Thank you, everyone. Thank you for your gift.
When I was organizing the senior project presentations, the last thing I expected was that we would end them dancing the night away. But that’s exactly what happened at the end of our first day of presentations! Our last presenter that evening, Vir, shared his senior project titled “Beyond The Beat, An Exploration of DJing” with the Waldorf community. He began his presentation by showing a video of himself dancing in his living room as a child, illustrating his early connection with music and dance. Vir then delved into his passion for music and desire to further explore dance through DJing.
He provided a brief explanation of the term DJ, derived from “disc jockey,” describing DJs as individuals who play recorded music for audiences at events and parties. To conclude his talk, a slide read, “Let’s get the party started!” The audience enthusiastically responded by clearing the chairs and transforming the presentation night into a dance floor. It was a fantastic way to end the evening, with the excitement of two more nights of senior project presentations still to come.
Our seniors began their projects long before their final presentations in March. Towards the end of their junior year, they started discussing their project ideas and envisioning what they wanted to pursue. Class sponsors, Marina Budrys and Jennifer Staub, and I met with the seniors before the summer break to emphasize that senior projects are the culmination of their studies at WSP, intended to showcase their finest talents, interests, and research endeavors.
During these meetings, we underscored the significance of the senior project as an opportunity for students to delve deeply into a specific subject, possibly one not covered in our curriculum, or to explore a creative process.
This year, our students showed a diverse range of interests they were eager to pursue. Before summer break, Alma shared her plan to create a senior project focused on educating our high school students about genocide, particularly exploring the Holocaust during World War II. Freyja had already been discussing her interest in exploring meditation practices from various cultures around the world.
As their senior year began, our class faced multiple tasks beyond their senior projects. We gathered to discuss college applications, and essays, and I began drafting their letters of recommendation, which filled me with excitement. Over the next six months, amidst this euphoria, I guided the seniors through their senior projects, each tackling exceptional topics. Noam delved into the role of American comics, while Galen ambitiously crafted a camera from scratch. Annika explored the Electronic Dance Music genre through music creation, and Ronit developed an app for downloading class schedules. Vivian embarked on a project titled ‘Fibre: From Fleece To Fabric,’ designing and building a loom to weave garments.
However, there was a catch this year—the presentations were scheduled earlier, before our March spring break. This posed a challenge: would the students have enough time to see their projects to fruition and craft insightful presentations in this shorter timeframe? It was a test of their focus and determination.
Over three incredible afternoons in March, our seniors demonstrated a resounding “we can” with their senior project presentations! Elowyn kicked off the first night by sharing her journey of overcoming her greatest fears, from heights to spiders. Aru followed with a poignant exploration of his bicultural identity as an Indian American, presenting insightful interviews he conducted with Indian American individuals of all ages.
As the presentations unfolded, each senior showcased professionalism, humor, sharpness, and profound insights. Misha drew inspiration from films such as ‘Silence of the Lambs’ and ‘Star Wars’ to embark on building a film projector. Maya, now a certified postpartum doula, shared her journey and created a detailed brochure, explaining her role in supporting families after childbirth. Prem wowed the audience with a captivating 3D modeling video created using Blender, an animation software.
The diversity of topics and talents exhibited by our seniors during these presentations was truly remarkable, highlighting their individual passions and achievements. “Reality: Perfection is impossible” was a slide in the senior project presentation by Ren, who focused on Holistic Wellness Through Strength Training and Nutrition. Yes, indeed. Perfection is impossible. What an important take-away for a twelfth grader as they prepare to embark upon leaving high school.
When Bean gave the final presentation on Friday night, about a table-top role playing game that he had created called Monster Town, I was ecstatic! Our fifteen seniors had done it! They had wowed, enraptured and fascinated the Waldorf community assembled on campus, as well as many other members of our community who had watched the streaming presentations on YouTube.
When I went back up to the podium to give my concluding remarks, I had all of the seniors come up so that we could congratulate them one more time. I said that I did not want the night to end, and I meant it. I felt immense pride in our seniors’ accomplishments. Moreover, I was deeply grateful for the opportunity to share in their journey and witness their growth. Looking ahead, I felt excitement for what awaited them—from the upcoming senior class trip to Hawai’i, to their graduation from WSP, and the start of college just a few months away.
For three glorious evenings in March, the fifteen seniors showed that they are capable of so much, and made all of us at Waldorf School of the Peninsula so proud. And for me, their senior advisor, they made me even prouder! I will miss our seniors more than they will ever know, but I will always look back fondly on what they accomplished with their senior projects.
