By Ruth Kramer ’18, Editor-In-Chief

Dear Country Day,

              I guess it’s finally time to say goodbye. I’ve been a part of this community for seven years now and the time has, quite honestly, just gone by too fast. Before switching to this school, I was really nervous about the new friends I was going to make, the classes I was going to try to comprehend, and if the lunches were as good as the rumors. But, over the past seven years I’ve learned how to handle an APUSH class, how to make friends in the hallway (it’s as easy as GH or HG), and cookie Wednesdays have been a blessing. All the little things that make you unique are all the things I’m going to miss about you. And miss you, I will.

              I still remember when I wasn’t even a student here and I shadowed in 5^th grade. All I could think about was what a great place this was. Lunches that looked like actual food, fun and engaging teachers, and there was, very simply, art class. I walked into Mr. Marin’s art class and he asked what I did for art at my school. I was embarrassed to tell him that my school didn’t have art, the funding was cut two years ago. He was so shocked and shaken that he searched for an old sketchbook and gave it to me, so I would have someplace for my art. I still have that sketchbook. I still use it from time to time.

               Becoming an actual student was no different. The teachers and students were kind and I quickly found friends that I’ve grown to love over the last seven years. As I made my way through the Middle School Hallways for the first time, I was excited to be a part of a new place that I felt so welcomed, so accepted. I’ll never forget our 8^th grade musical or middle school basketball games. The Cherokee Trip will always stay implanted in my memory, as will the first dance any of us ever went to.

              Country Day, I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you. I loved the life I had before in a school district 45 minutes away from here, but switching schools was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Because, here, I was allowed to be myself. I was allowed to start a feminism club because it was important to me. I was allowed to talk to teachers in the hallway about golf tournaments and Indian restaurants. I was allowed to throw a frisbee outside with my friends on spring afternoons. And being myself is what led me to the future that I’ve chosen. Without you, I wouldn’t know what Williams College is, let alone be going there next year. I don’t think it’s quite possible to put into words what that means to me.

              What’s so amazing about CCD is that everyone who has gone here has had an experience similar to mine. My story of kindness and opportunity is not unique, and Country Day has given us all opportunities that have impacted our lives. All of our experiences have made us who we are. Our futures were molded here, and our pasts brought us to them. While we’re all ready to leave CCD, the lessons we’ve learned, the friends we’ve loved, and the memories we’ve made will stay with us forever. We’ve created a legacy for future classes and, hopefully, we’re proud of what we’ve left behind.

So, thank you CCD. Thank you for free bells outside in the amphitheater. Thank you for mornings in the senior pit. Thank you for science class dissections. Thank you for softball games on rainy afternoons, softball games on sunny afternoons. Thank you for difficult classes and passing grades. Thank you for printer passcodes and internet that goes out every now and then. Thank you for advising time and donuts. Thank you for middle school cabaret nights and country projects. Thank you for collared shirt dress codes and chicken strip lunches. Thank you for exam weeks. Thank you for grammar books and French classes. Thank you for Cookie Wednesdays. Thank you for the balloon drop. Thank you for the clap out. Thank you for the opportunities and possibilities. Thank you for all the little things. It has meant a lot.

I promise I’ll come around and say hello to the place that shaped me whenever I get the chance. I’ll miss you and I can’t wait to see you again.                            

Best,

Ruth