Howdy y’all,
I’m Harper. My sobriety date is November 4th, 2022.
Despite receiving this accolade of valedictorian, you should know—I’m not the smartest person up here. I’m not the hardest worker either. I might have been the most humble, if I hadn’t just said that.
Point being: I apparently have the best grades. But grades are just numbers, and numbers are dumb. Numbers don’t reflect anything about the amazing people up here with me today. Numbers won’t tell you anything about me or anyone else on this stage. This school understands that more than anywhere else I’ve ever been.
I’m so grateful to be here. Nothing that’s happened before Archway—and maybe nothing that happens after—has or will have a bigger influence on who I am as a person.
A Family Legacy of Excellence and Loss
I’m actually not the first person to receive the honor of valedictorian in my family. My brother, Nathan, achieved the same honor in 2021. However, he received it posthumously.
Nathan was the smartest person I have ever known. He easily got honors, but instead of coasting, he always went the extra mile—pursuing highest honors, taking extra classes, and even reading textbooks in his free time. Watching him study and push himself shaped my own dedication.
Nathan taught me to do the impossible simply because someone said I couldn’t. That defiance—used correctly—can be a powerful tool for change. I’m still learning how to wield it.
His death indirectly brought me to Archway. I’m a better person for it. Nathan is the reason being valedictorian means something to me. That’s a convoluted way of thanking him, but that’s what I’m trying to do.
From “Standoffish” to Standing Here
The road to where I am today was anything but short.
When I first showed up at Archway, I was—according to staff—“standoffish and rude,” sitting there in my alternative school uniform. Behind my scowl and black polo and khakis, I was terrified.
I was afraid to face the consequences of my actions. Afraid to admit I’d done something wrong. Afraid to accept that everything happening was my own fault.
Gratitude
I want to express my deepest gratitude to everyone who’s gotten me from there to here:
My parents: I’ve put them through hell again and again, and they’ve never stopped guiding and supporting me. Without them, I wouldn’t be anything at all.
My counselors and sponsors: Thank you for teaching me how to be a real person—something I didn’t know before I arrived.
My teachers: Thank you for tolerating me, pushing me, and helping me want to learn—not just know.
My peers at Archway, Teen and Family Services, and beyond: Y’all are the reason I grew a personality.
The Archway Experience
This is the part where I might cry. Because I love everything and everyone associated with Archway. I really don’t want to leave.
No one here is boring, and Archway is where I learned that I’m probably not the main character.
I once described Archway to someone like this:
“Archway is a place where wannabes and real-deal gangbangers; band and theatre kids; countercultural icons; rebels; burnouts; and lost causes and last chancers come together and try to learn how to grow up and be real people in the real world.”
Class Quotes
As I said earlier—numbers are dumb. Letters are a little smarter. But words take the cake.
So I gathered some words from my fellow graduates. Here’s what they want you to know:
Chloe: “Don’t do what I did.”
Christian: “Sometimes you just gotta pop out, break bread, and mind your own.”
Abi: “Get off your butt and quit making excuses.”
Laila: “Trust your gut.”
Antonio: “Don’t make serious life decisions after 10pm.”
Dylan: “You don’t know what you don’t know, so why worry about it?”
Preston: “No company is better than bad company.”
Ash: “2Pac is dead, Mr. Sanborn.” (That’s an inside joke.)
That was a mixed bag of thoughts—as it should be.
Final Words
To close, here’s one last quote—mine:
“Life isn’t multiple choice. It’s a Mr. Sanborn quiz. You can choose To C (see) your life pass by… or you can Choose (B)eing an individual.”
