Each year, one of my favorite traditions at Lincoln School is our Senior Breakfast.
There is nothing especially complicated about it. We gather early in the morning in a conference room at the local country club. The seniors arrive dressed a little more formally than usual. Students and teachers take photographs. There is breakfast, conversation, and a sense that something important is happening, even if no one says it out loud at first.
Of course, the event itself is meant to celebrate our seniors and all that they have accomplished during their time at Lincoln. During the breakfast, we recognize students with cords and medallions that reflect their participation, leadership, and service in our honor societies and school programs. It is a chance to celebrate the many ways our students have contributed to our community, whether through academics, athletics, the arts, service, leadership, or some combination of all of these.
As always, I was struck by the fact that no two students looked exactly the same. Some wore one cord or medallion. Others wore many. Each represented a different journey, a different set of interests, and a different way of contributing to the life of our school. Together, they formed a visible reminder that there is no single path to success and no single way to leave a meaningful mark on a community.
One of the things that makes Senior Breakfast especially meaningful is that we invite many of the teachers who have taught, mentored, and supported these students over the years. I think the teachers look forward to the breakfast almost as much as the seniors do, and not just because there is free food. For teachers, this event offers something that is often rare in schools: the opportunity to pause and see the full picture.
Most of the time, teaching happens in pieces. A teacher may know a student from one class, one grade level, or one particular season of that student’s life. At Senior Breakfast, however, those years come together. Teachers see the students they once taught as freshmen now preparing to graduate. They hear about the honors, accomplishments, and leadership roles those students have taken on over time. They are reminded that the encouragement they offered, the extra help they gave, and the relationships they built mattered.
Unlike graduation, which is public and ceremonial, Senior Breakfast feels smaller and more personal. The students laugh with one another, take pictures, and joke about who cleaned up especially well for the occasion. At the same time, there is an undercurrent of emotion that is impossible to miss.
Every year, there comes a moment when the reality of what is happening settles in. For some students, it happens when they receive a cord or medallion. For others, it comes during the toast, as we raise our glasses and speak about the future that awaits them. Suddenly, what has long felt distant becomes real. Graduation is close. Their time together at Lincoln is coming to an end. A new chapter is about to begin.
And yes, every year there are a few tears. Some come from students, often unexpectedly. Others come from teachers who realize that the students they have watched grow over the years are about to leave. Those tears are not really about sadness. At least not entirely. They are about pride, gratitude, and the recognition that something important has happened here.
I think that is what makes Senior Breakfast such a special tradition. It gives us the opportunity to pause before the busyness of graduation and simply appreciate one another. It allows us to celebrate not only what our seniors have achieved, but also who they have become.
As we toasted this year’s class, I found myself feeling the same mixture of pride, gratitude, and bittersweet anticipation that seems to come every year. We are excited for all that lies ahead for these students, and we know they are ready. At the same time, we know that Lincoln will not quite be the same without them. That, perhaps, is the clearest sign that they have truly left their mark.
