By Chris Moffitt
We are the last of a unique era at Tempe Prep. As we soon say farewell to our precious high school Alma Mater, memories of TPA’s past splendors will surely begin to fade away.
We are the last to undergo years and years of TPA’s old curriculum before it was…well…fixed. We remember the true locker courtyard before it was replaced by the bare floors of the 400 building. We were in the very room where Mr. Culp made his final “Skyhoooook!” toss. We can retell the incredible tales of Mr. Wooley’s 20-foot high motorcycle jumps and alien encounters. We are the last witnesses to Ms Pitman’s wild eyes as she directed her last TPA show. We are leaving alongside Coach Brittain, who inspired fear in the hearts of hippies. We are the end to the Butler, LeBeau, and Hughes clans. We are the first class to have endured the faded blue TPA classroom walls for seven long years, since we of course were the first sixth grade class. We are the Class of 2016, and we are certainly pioneers.
At least we felt that way when we first arrived here in our dorky uniforms. We suddenly faced a transition from our previous public schools as drastic as being thrust from an episode of Gilmore Girls to PBS Masterpiece Theater. I guess that goes for all of us except the Mount Carmel kids. For them, coming here was no more significant than changing red plaid to blue plaid. Now that I think of it, there was also the third of us who already had older siblings attend TPA. Well so maybe we weren’t all pioneers, but there must’ve been at least a couple.
While our other friends laughed about the way they slept through their easy classes, we softly cried as we worked on our nightly seven hours of homework, finding solace in only the shrill melodies of our plastic recorders. To make it worse, the entire time our brainwashed tiger moms simply looked on with glee. We honestly tried to understand when these moms explained to us how lucky we were to go here. We listened as they would say something about Socrates and great and books and small and classes, but for some reason we couldn’t get out of our minds the faces of those peers who suddenly disappeared to go to some magical place called McClintock. We couldn’t help but wonder if those peers were the elect who had somehow been caught up in the rapture, and we were simply those who had been left behind.
But over those seven years, our attitudes changed and we now realize that we, the survivors, are in fact the true lucky ones. And as we say farewell we must acknowledge the impact TPA has had on our lives.
The small school atmosphere that others may fear as restrictive has actually granted us a freedom in our education. Through it, we have been able to take advantage of practically everything TPA has to offer. We’ve tried our hand in both athletics and the fine arts, science and philosophy, the classics and modernity. All extracurricular activities were open to us. We have truly experienced a liberal education that now allows us to enter into the next stage of life with the attitude that we can do anything.
The small school atmosphere has also allowed us to create close connections with our classmates. Although, after seven years, it is true that some of us are gladdened by the thought of separation, the memories we’ve been able to share and the bonds we’ve been able to form are priceless.
Although TPA has certainly prepared us for life as a whole, we must first begin our next journey in college life. We are excited to continue leaving our class legacy at our future homes just we did at TPA as the Class of 2016. We know we will never be forgotten, for who could possibly forget the Class of 2020?