Bethlehem seniors set up 49 rainbow-colored pinwheels in front of their high school on June 13 — one for each of the people massacred at Pulse, the gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida.

Paper peace signs and the names and pictures of victims were posted inside the school.

“Imagine all the people, living for today”: John Lennon’s words wafted through the hallway between classes that day. “…Imagine all the people, living life in peace.”

Student musicians played Lennon’s song, handing out copies of the lyrics so others could join in.

“You may say I’m a dreamer but I’m not the only one,” they sang. “I hope some day you’ll join us and the world will live as one.”

This call for peace and understanding was referenced again and again during the class’s commencement exercises on June 24 at the University at Albany’s athletic arena as 411 Bethlehem graduates, wearing black caps and gowns, gathered with an enthusiastic crowd of family and friends. It was Bethlehem’s 82nd graduation ceremony.

“Your senior prank left us deeply in awe,” Michael Klugman, the interim principal at Bethlehem High School, told the graduates.

He quoted an alumnus saying, “You created the most profound memoriam we’ve ever seen.”

Superintendent Jody Monroe lauded the seniors for the display of 49 pinwheels blowing in the wind, and said millions of people around the world had viewed the scene through Facebook.

The school board president, Matthew Downey, encouraged the seniors to be “active participants in society” and said, “Your recent response to the tragedy in Orlando shows that.”

He concluded, “This country, the world could use more citizens and leaders like you…You made us proud.”

Becoming an adult

Klugman gave the opening address — a heartfelt sharing of what it means to be an adult.

He recalled being a high school graduate at the age of 18 himself, thinking of freedom, and filled with excitement and fear for what would come next.

“My idea of what it means to be an adult has changed,” he said. He spoke of two friends, Lori and Matt Sames, parents of three daughters, just beginning their adult lives as a “typical suburban family.”

Then their daughter, Hannah, at age 3, was diagnosed with Giant Axonal Neuropathy, which results in progressive nerve death; the Sameses were told she would not live past her 20s. Hannah is now 12.

Referring to the “life-altering news,” Klugman told the graduates, “At the age of 18, it’s hard to think of this kind of reality.”

He urged, “For a moment…put yourselves in Lori’s and Matt’s perspective….Would this hit you so hard you couldn’t get up?”

The Sameses rallied to help their child. “They asked questions of really smart people,” said Klugman. “All they hear back is silence.”

He explained that GAN affects so few people, drug companies can’t make money off of a cure and so don’t invest in the research that might find one.

The Sameses, he said, are not rich. He described them as “two people just like you and me.”

Still, they persevered. “When it’s your loved one…‘no’ is not an answer you can accept.”

The Sameses started fundraising with everything from bake sales to social media campaigns. They created a worldwide network to connect families and children that suffer from GAN.

Overcome with emotion, Klugman stopped speaking for a moment to compose himself. The athletic arena was pin-drop quiet.

He went on, “But the money always runs out.”

Being an adult, he said, “You persevere and never allow yourself to give up…You continue to press on…and just maybe get to a point” of finding a treatment.

“Hannah will be treated for the first time next month,” Klugman said, “as thousands of us hold our breath.”

The story of Hannah and her family, he said, describes what it means to be an adult. “Hannah’s hope inspires all of us…No matter how hard or far we fall, we can always get back up,” said Klugman.

He urged the graduates, “Face your falls with dignity and strength…I hope you pick yourselves up and lift others up.”

“Go for it!”

Senior Robert Willard rejected a fill-in-the-blank speech because his alma mater is unique. “There’s no place in the world that has inspired me as much as this school,” he said. “It’s been the one constant thing to follow us through all the uncertainties of life.”

He also said, “By chance, we found ourselves in Bethlehem” and built friendships there. “With this foundation, we made something unique and special,” said Willard.

“The omens look good,” he told his classmates, noting some of the auspicious events of 1998, the year most of them were born. Both Google and SpongeBob SquarePants got their start that year, he said as the audience roared.

Willard noted the class was graduating on the day that Britain voted to exit the European Union. For those going to four-year colleges, he also noted, the year of their next commencement ceremony will be 2020.

“We cannot fear the future,” Willard told his classmates, urging them to live without regret, to “go for it,” and embrace the world.

He concluded his speech with a call for “one last chant.” A purple runner divided roughly 200 graduates seated to Willard’s right — he told them to chant “B!” — from another 200 graduates seated to his left whom he told to chant “C!”

Willard then saluted everything from the school athletes to “the familiar purple toilet seats,” increasing the tempo and calling on his classmates to chant “BC” for Bethlehem Central even louder.

They did.

The chant ended with Willard’s salute “to each and every one of us who made our school proud.”

The arena erupted in applause that rang to the rafters.

Tissues available

Senior Claran Hedderman started his speech by telling the audience his goal: “I’m going to try to make my mom cry,” he said.

He recalled how, on his first day of high school, he came home and cried on his mother’s shoulder. “Now it’s your turn. I have the tissues,” he said as he placed a box of them on the lectern.

Hedderman said it was a common tradition at commencement ceremonies for people to opine, “Cherish these years. They are the best of your life.”

“I hope they are wrong,” said Hedderman, noting that he and his classmates had lived but a short time.

He went on, “It would be arrogant of me to say I have worldly wisdom to offer you.” He did go on to offer some gems, however.

“I hope that you continue to learn,” Hedderman told his classmates, noting, “You can learn in the strangest places.” He told of how he was swimming in a lake once when a rope floated by; he reached for it and the rope looked at him.

“That’s when I learned snakes can swim,” he said as laughter rippled across the arena.

Hedderman went on to impart advice, “Don’t be afraid to be awful at something,” he said. He gave as an example his attempt at a varsity swim meet to try a backflip. “It did not go well,” deadpanned Hedderman, adding, “I don’t regret trying it.”

He went on, “I hope you ruthlessly pursue what makes you happy.” This could be anything from flying paper airplanes from a second-story window to drinking a good cup of coffee or singing in the shower.

“Enjoy those mundane moments that make getting out of bed worth it,” he said.

He also said, “I hope you never forget to dream.” Martin Luther King’s “I propose a pragmatic compromise” speech never moved a nation, said Hedderman.

He also urged a fun summer. “Play hide-and-seek in the dark,” said Hedderman, as this summer could be the last part of a “real, true childhood.”

Hedderman concluded with a list of reminiscences and said, “I’d like to think the best is still ahead of me.” While, until now, Hedderman and his classmates have been on paved ground, he said, “Going forward, it will be up to each of us to forge a trail.”

He concluded to applause, “When I walked into the high school for the first time, it seemed like a big, strange world…Four years later, it seems very small.”

“Failing is better than regrets”

Music provided an interlude before the superintendent gave her address.

“I will spread my wings and fly into the sky,” sang the Bethlehem Central High School Choraliers, directed by Jason Dashew who also played the piano. “I will fly to places yet unseen, go beyond my wildest dreams….”

“Like an Eagle” was written by Carl Stromen; the eagle is Bethlehem’s mascot.

Bowen Chen played the bass and Cooper Martel rocked the chorus on the drums as the singers clapped to his beat.

“You have a right to be proud and an obligation to make the world a better place,” Superintendent Monroe told the graduates.

She quoted Martin Luther King saying, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

“You all have things that matter to you — people, courses, interests,” said Monroe. “I hope you will never be silent on the things that matter.”

Referring to the seniors’ pinwheel display in honor of those slain in Orlando, she said, “I encourage you to continue to speak out and speak up…It is easier to be brave as part of a group,” she observed.

“Will you stand up for what is right and stand alone?” she asked the graduates, noting, “Failing is better than regrets.”

Monroe concluded, “Congratulations, graduates, on your achievements…Thank you for making BC a better place.”

As the crowd applauded, beach balls once again were tossed among the graduates. The colorful missiles were launched only in between speeches.

“Your future is in your hands”

Matthew Downey, the school board president, began by introducing the board members seated with him on the stage. Diane Giacone Stever stood for applause as Downey said, “Thirty-five years ago, she was in your seat.” She is retiring from the board on June 30. Downey thanked her for nine years of service.

“You all have worked hard and achieved many successes,” Downey told the graduates, congratulating their families as well, noting their support and encouragement.

He also commended the district’s teachers, staff, and administrators. “Thank you for your hard work,” said Downey. “You are the reason BC continues to be the number-one ranked school district,” he said to applause from the crowd.

He went on to tell the graduates, “Whatever path you choose…you will be faced with many challenges and opportunities.”

He also urged, “I encourage you to be active participants in society…Your future is in your hands.”

At the conclusion of Downey’s speech, Klugman returned to the lectern and asked the seniors, “You ready?”

They were.

“It is my privilege and honor to present the Class of 2016,” said Klugman.

With that, the seniors, in orderly fashion, row by row, walked to the podium.

Each stood poised on the edge of the stage until his or her name was called. Cameras flashed and cheers erupted along with hoots, whistles, and sounds of cowbells as the diplomas were bestowed.

After nearly an hour, the name of the last graduate, Erik G. Zilgme, was called. Cheers filled the arena along with a low rumble as the school leaders seated on the stage stomped their feet on its wooden floor.

“Your adventure awaits”

Then the graduates listened, diplomas in hand, to the last speaker, their classmate Nanaka Suzuki.

“We made it!” she exclaimed.

She noted the graduates had left behind the rigors and tests of school.

“We also leave behind a piece of ourselves,” she said. “It’s astonishing how much we have grown.”

Suzuki went on, “Right now, it’s like we’re at a train station…Some of us will have a smooth ride to our destination,” she said while others will have a long, winding journey.

“We have the power to excel at everything we do,” she said, urging, “Take with you the friendships you have found, the relationships with our teachers, the knowledge you have gained.”

She concluded, “The ticket is in your hands…Enjoy every bump, every twist, every turn…Get on that train. Your adventure awaits.”

Klugman then told the graduates to move the tassels on their mortarboards from the right to the left.

The tassels were turned and the graduates left, as they had come, to the recorded strains of “Pomp and Circumstance.”

The crowd stood and cheered till the last notes had sounded.

Then families and friends left the arena to embrace their graduates under a pale pink summer sky.