The Class of 2025 decorates the Archer campus in pink to celebrate their transition to senior year on Moving Up Day May 31, 2024. This tradition, among many others, showcases the child-like spirit and creative artistry of this magnificent senior class. (Photo Credit: Lucy Williams)

Eighteen uniformed seniors sit around a circle in Mr. Wogensen’s English classroom on a last-period in December. Any of us would know these classes are the most exciting — this marks the long-awaited class council. We chant “council” until Mr. Wog finally gives in. At the finale of this quintessential Archer English seminar, I notice tears streaming down my friends’ faces and my own. After months studying the nature of fairytales and fantasy, we found ourselves mourning our own childhoods. 

This moment revealed our grade’s truth. Every Archer student adopts an adult drive to focus on future success and work for it. But since the sixth grade, the Archer Class of 2025 has been uniquely connected to the magic of our own childhoods.

Following a triumphant Maypole dance on our first Moving Up Day in 2018, 50 joyous sixth graders raised their eyes to admire the most lopsided friendship bracelet weave anyone could have possibly made. This was the first sign of our grade’s nonconformist spirit — we were nevertheless endlessly proud. 

Our uniqueness has only grown stronger. I was a guest in middle school as our grade organized the largest Archer wedding, which was avocado-themed. As Ella prepared to recite her vows to Tristan the tree, Sienna scandalously objected, taking Ella through sickness and health for herself. I witnessed an hour of fiery debate over changes to our gradewide schedule during our first (and last) town hall meeting. And due to my imposter STEMinist contributions, we most likely hold the record number of rejected Lil’ SIS hypotheses. It’s because us girls experiment — trying, failing and trying again. Like children, unafraid, we play.

Our class is one of true artists. Over the years, Archer has gifted us the freedom to innovate, which has cultivated incredibly authentic girls unafraid to defy all that is conventional. As I walk through the halls, I hear the ethereal sounds of Gemma’s guitar as she strums her upcoming song release. I watch Julianna pour her creative soul into imaginative ballet routines, while most likely reciting multivariable equations in her head. I stop by Ella’s table for a quick listen to the latest episode of “Sexplained”, her teen sexual health podcast, while snacking on treats Ivy baked in her last viral video. I peer into the lab to watch Sophia, where she’s been for two years, curiously conducting fascinating cancer research on fruit flies. 

You must realize by now that the Class of 2025 is driven by something beyond “preparations for the future” and “academic achievement.” We are driven by a childlike wonder.

This wonder became apparent in another classic Archer English seminar, Happiness, where we tragically analyzed the concept of well-being at the brink of our grade’s unhappiness: college decision season. Throughout all of the material we explored in the class, one particular article by the L.A. Times had me fixated on a quote by Catherine L’Ecuyer: 

“Wonder is the desire to know. Wonder is not taking anything for granted, so it is seeing things as if it were for the first — or for the last—time.” 

As I reflected on the wonders of life that this article suggests, I realized why I connected so deeply to L’Ecuyer’s idea. All of these six existing states of awe are present in our daily lives at Archer. 

Moral Beauty, which we witness in students’ unfailingly genuine thank you’s to their teachers as they leave every class.

Collective Effervescence — The feeling of complete connectedness in the crowd during a screaming Spirit Week tug-of-war or a dreamy Night of Dance.

Nature — The whispers of tall palms above and green grass beneath our feet. 

Music — Flowing from our melodic a cappella group and the ethereal orchestra.

Visual Design — Our Spanish tiled floors, the star-shaped fountain and galleries filled with art.

Epiphanies, which, lucky for us, are born every day in the classroom.

This is proof; I experience wonder when I look at the Class of 2025. Every single senior has expanded my worldview. 

It is amazing that, despite the collective academic struggles, years of isolation, community tragedies and even weeklong backpacking excursions, we remain full of light. It is this awe, this innocent wonder, that kept us young. 

Do not assume this means we always blend beautifully. We sure argue, over calculus concepts and whether we should still be reading “The Odyssey.” We sure lose, from spirit point rankings, to volleyball games and bets with Mr. Bartha. But even in our conflicts, the same childlike resilience shines through, and we emerge stronger together.

Only this year did we realize how powerfully our paths were flowing in the same direction. We ran through the halls on Moving Up Day, making our claim to the campus at the end of our seven-year reign. When the phones went away, the seniors came out to play. A deadly game of senior hunt may have interrupted our peace and harmony, but the elaborate tagging schemes by students and teachers alike were nonetheless priceless. College decisions rolled in, and a state of bliss arrived as we basked in the final days of childhood. 

And so we lay in the courtyard, the sun slowly absorbing our anxiety, weaving flower crowns out of grass and reminiscing about the best years of our lives.

What I never said to my seniors during council in Mr. Wog’s room is that we were wrong. Graduation does not mean we must mourn childhood. It isn’t something we must leave behind in these halls. It is something we carry forward, a gift inside each and every one of our 71 souls. As we leave this home, remember to nurture this wonder and approach each new experience, in college and beyond, with the curiosity, spunkiness and of course, ambitious joy that defined our time at Archer.