Gabe Zullo’s presence was felt at the Guilderland High School commencement ceremony on June 26.

After four years of battling a rare form of cancer, he had died on May 29, less than a month before graduation. He was 17.

A life-size picture of him in a red cap and gown was propped on one of the chairs on the floor of the MVP Arena in Albany. As classmates filed by, some left flowers on the chair. Others wore buttons with his likeness.

The graduates, seated in rows of chairs on the floor, and their families and fans filling the bleachers rose to their feet — the only standing ovation during the two-hour ceremony — and applauded loud and long when Gabe’s mother, Abbie Zullo, accepted his diploma from Superintendent Marie Wiles.

Wiles, who spoke about the value of seeing others’ perspectives, had concluded her speech by saying that Gabe Zullo “inspired all of us to see a new perspective … to see and appreciate the things we might all take for granted,” said Wiles, naming family and faith along with coming to school.

“I’m certain Gabe is here in spirit,” said Wiles.

Michael Piscitelli, the high school principal, spoke on the importance of courage. He concluded his speech by saying that Gabe faced every day with courage. “Gabe never lost hope,” he said.

After Wiles gave Gabe’s diploma to his mother, the two women embraced on stage as applause reached to the rafters. Tears mingled with cheers as the superintendent and principal stood on either side of Abbie Zullo while waves of emotion swept over them.

 

Checking blind spots

The ceremony had opened to the familiar sounds of “Pomp and Circumstance” played by the high school orchestra as the hundreds of students — boys in robes of red, girls in white — walked to their seats.

Piscitelli welcomed the crowd to the school’s 68th graduation as Kendall Barnhart and Kate Murphy recited the pledge to the flag and then the high school’s senior ensemble sang the national anthem.

Wiles said she’s been thinking about driving since her own son turned 16 and got a license.

“Teaching driving has its challenges …,” she said, “dredging up a conscious awareness of what has largely become automatic.”

Checking blind spots “where objects can’t be seen” is an acquired skill — “almost like a magic trick, it disappears from sight in either mirror,” said Wiles of cars or trucks that can’t be seen in a blind spot.

“Just as all cars have blind spots, so do all people — every single one of us,” said Wiles. These blind spots, she said, preclude us from understanding certain people and points of view.

It is easy to think “our answer to a problem is the right answer,” said Wiles. Understanding a different answer or point of view, she said, “can be a little disconcerting, even scary.”

Wiles said she hoped the students seated before her, during their journey through the Guilderland schools, had picked up on blind spots.

She lauded a school club and class offered to seniors, both focusing on civil conversation and led by high school English teacher Mitchell Hahn. Students discuss controversial topics and answer questions like: Is cancel culture beneficial to our society?

The point is not to win, as in a debate, but rather to learn to listen. If Hahn sees a student with a hand up while another student is speaking, he cautions that the hand-raiser is not listening but rather planning what to say next.

The point, Wiles said, is not to persuade but rather “to peer into the blind spot of our differences to gain a new perspective.”

Returning to her opening driving metaphor, Wiles said a new technology allows a blind-spot detector to be added to cars that don’t have them, reducing accidents by 23 percent.

She told the students she hoped that their next level of learning would add that blind-spot detector to their lives.

Wiles concluded, “So my advice to you … don’t forget to check your blind spot.”

 

Not goodbye

“Welcome to the day where we all step into the world that is waiting for us,” said Varshini Siddi, giving the student welcoming address.

She thanked the faculty and staff, saying, “The lessons you teach will stay with us throughout our lives.”

She went on to thank parents and fellow graduates. 

“We have supported ourselves through obstacles no other generation has faced,” said Siddi.

She also said, “We have built relationships … that will last the rest of our lives.”

Siddi, who will attend Northeastern University in the fall, said she and her classmates had built among themselves a web of strong connections.

“Don’t look at this day as a goodbye,” she urged.

The senior class video that followed reinforced Siddi’s words as the video portrayed the many interactions and activities of members of the Class of 2024.

The arena was punctuated with random cheers and exclamations as various pictures were projected both on a large screen in front and in a carousel overhead.

The video, produced by Katelyn Dickerson and Avery Kerr, featured pictures of school life from sports to prom. It concluded with advice and well wishes from various faculty and staff members.

 

“Power of desire”

“We did it, and goodness knows it was not easy,” William Parsons told his classmates.

He said he hadn’t told his brothers he was giving the graduate address. But, referencing the pandemic, Parsons said he, along with his classmates, was “no stranger to surprises.”

As he and his classmates face the future, Parsons said, “We hold that power of desire in our hands.”

He named the versatile endeavors of his class from the annual anti-hate rallies and fairs celebrating different cultures to the Red Sea cheering section at fall football games.

“I plan to take with me that adaptability,” said Parsons, who will be attending Syracuse University in the fall.

He spoke of the ability to overcome challenges and said, “We have to keep moving forward.”

Parsons noted the voting age is 18 and urged his classmates to “make a difference.”

He also noted a Nobel Prize winner who was “our age” and said that one person can make a difference.

He alluded to his classmates who were part of the March for our Lives movement, trying to stop gun violence, and said they were “affecting something larger than themselves.”

The graduates, Parsons said, are starting adulthood today with “new lessons to learn, new barriers to break.”

His speech was followed by the high school’s symphony orchestra, directed by Susan Curro, playing Tchaikovsky’s Capriccio Italien, which the composer called “an Italian fantasia on folk tunes.”

One of the musicians, Ralf Miller, had to hop to his seat, having suffered a fracture the day before. “That’s dedication,” said Piscitelli.

Guilderland does not recognize a valedictorian or salutatorian but has honors graduates (with grades between 85 and 85.9), high honors graduates (with grades between 90 and 94.9), and highest honor graduates (with grades of 95 and up) stand for applause.

Most of the class stood; about three quarters of the students will attend four-year colleges.

Graduates who had given 150 hours or more of community service also stood for applause and finally the handful of students entering military service were recognized.

One of them, Ian Len, couldn’t be at the ceremony, Piscitelli said, because he was at boot camp for the United States Marine Corps.

 

Courage

Piscitelli said he was taken with Mel Gibson’s war film, “Hacksaw Ridge,” which was based on a documentary about Desmond Doss, the first conscientious objector to be awarded the Medal of Honor.

After Pearl Harbor was bombed, Doss wanted to serve his country but, because he was a Seventh-Day Adventist, refused to kill or even carry a weapon; he served as a combat medic.

Piscitelli described how Doss was bullied by other soldiers and how his commanding officers tried to have him court martialed.

His unit was then deployed to fight in the Battle of Okinawa where the soldiers had to ascend Hacksaw Ridge by rope. Piscitelli explained that the soldiers had to get to the top of the cliff by a rope ladder and fewer than a third of them made it back down.

After the battle, Piscitelli said, “Desmond stayed all alone,” dragging one wounded soldier after another to the edge of the cliff and lowering him down.

All night long, Piscitelli reported, Doss said, “Just one more man,” rescuing 75 wounded soldiers in all.

“The definition of courage,” said Piscitelli, is to do something that frightens you.

He told the students that in high school they had tried new things — from pursuing a sport to running for office.

And each student, he said, is “coming out the other side as a stronger person.”

He went on to quote Eleanor Roosevelt: “Do something that scares you every day.”

Piscitelli concluded with two pieces of advice.

Don’t avoid challenges, he urged, because of fear of failure or making mistakes. “The only people who never fail are those who don’t try,” he said.

Second, Piscitelli urged the students to embrace opportunities. “No matter what the outcome, you will grow,” he said, urging the students not to let fear cripple them.

“Take a chance,” said Piscitelli.

He concluded his speech, “Go forth with courage.”

 

Finding joy

Avery Kerr, co-vice president of the class of 2024, introduced the keynote speaker, Kousha Navidar, who had graduated from Guilderland in 2006.

Kerr reported he had gone on to get a bachelor’s degree from Duke, and a master’s degree in public policy from the Harvard Kennedy School.

His first job was teaching high school math in the Teach for America program and he then became a radio host, writer, and producer.

Kerr said Navidar had interviewed “big names” and is a “confident yet humble man.”

She also said this would be his second time speaking at a Guilderland graduation ceremony.

The Enterprise covered his graduation speech 18 years ago when Navidar was president of the Class of 2006.

As his classmates chanted “Koush! Koush! Koush!” he undid his red robe on stage to reveal he was wearing a bathing suit underneath. Piscitelli said at the time that he was aware of the stunt in advance and viewed it as a metaphor.

Looking back over his years in Guilderland schools, Navidar said in 2006, “All these lessons show in your bathing suit.” In elementary school, it was about fun; in middle school, about style; and in high school, about “our confidence, the courage to wear it and take the plunge.”

One of “the little things” Navidar said in 2006 that he would miss was “the faculty member you just clicked with.”

That clicking was something he spoke of in his 2024 speech, but from the experience of having been a teacher himself.

“Thank you for making this 36-year-old feel cool, and I question your taste,” Navidar told the Class of 2024, which had voted for him to be the speaker.

Navidar noted that he had graduated from the high school 18 years ago, the year many of the graduates were born. “But that’s not the only parallel,” he said, going on to name teachers they had had in common.

We both graduated at the dawn of new technology, Navidar said, naming the iPhone in his era and AI for the Class of 2024.

“Nobody has any of the answers,” he told the graduates but went on to assure them, “Between where you sit and I stand today, it is beautiful. It is hard — and you are going to love it.”

He shared where they could get donuts for free and where the most cringe place was to take a date.

“When it comes to the big questions you are facing ….,” said Navidar, “you have to answer them yourself.”

He said, though, that he could offer perspective and, with perspective comes confidence. He also said he would share “three secrets to help you survive.”

He marveled that he was born in Iran, speaking Farsi, and ended up in upstate New York at a school that had as a mascot a legendary flying boat that is somehow a ghost.

As a Guilderland student, Navidar said, while he didn’t know what career he would pursue, he knew he wanted to entertain, educate, and inspire.

In 2016, he lived in Boston and worked hard in a TV studio for six months but the show lost funds and was canceled after the first season. He was “consumed by disappointment, pushing 30,” and took a job across the country that was far from his dream.

“It turns out that’s where I met my wife,”said Navidar.

He also made friends, he said, and asked, “How can I regret that choice?”

Navidar urged the graduates, “Give yourself permission to enjoy that choice.”

Navidar said he was good at “finding joy in what I do.”

His second secret was: Don’t do it alone.

At work, Navidar said, his favorite part is the team he is with. “We do push-ups before shows,” he said, and celebrate successes.

“If I’m ‘somebody,’ it’s not because of my talents,” said Navidar. “It’s because I have the right people in my life.”

His third secret, he said, is: “You don’t have to prove anything to anybody … You already are ‘somebody’.”

Applause rippled across the arena as Navidar said this. He urged the graduates to care and keep growing, helping others.

Describing his first job, as a math teacher, Navidar said a sound that every teacher likes to hear is that “it clicks.” He didn’t hear that sound until March of the first year he was teaching.

While no student said thank-you at the time, years later Navidar got a call from a student who thanked him for something he barely remembered, hanging out after class.

“I was ‘somebody’ to that student,” he said.

He urged the graduates, “Roll with it. You are capable. You are valuable. You are not alone.”

He also said, “If you find the joy in others, life will unfurl …. Discovering yourself, who you really are … you are going to like what you find.”

Navidar concluded to resounding applause, speaking of life, “It is beautiful. It is hard — and you are going to love it … I will see you at Dunkin’ Donuts.``

With that, diplomas were awarded. One by one, the graduates’ names were called as they ascended the stage. At the end, they simultaneously turned their tassels and mortarboards flew skyward.