Clearly, I initially struggled to write a 300-word reflection about the Class of 2026 because where would I even begin to recount the many memories from this year’s senior class? I knew this class would be special when I met so many of you as sophomores — the barely-not-freshmen boys who populated my English 10 classroom back in 2023–2024. Then, suddenly, you became upperclassmen.
On Blue Shirt Day, I watched all of you accept the responsibility of leading the student body. The rings on your fingers and the shirts on your backs became beacons of excellence (shout-out to all our champions on fields, courts, stages, and national exams). The newly elected junior officers stepped into leadership for the class, and although I didn’t know it then, Andrew Zhang would become someone I would learn to lean on over the next two years. He always showed up — for everyone, every time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I seriously don’t know what he will do next year if he isn’t elected to run the freshman class at Johns Hopkins. Sleep, maybe? Well, he needs it.
The Class of 2026 built momentum during McDonald’s Week. Dilan wouldn’t rest until we exceeded every McDonald’s Week fundraising record! (I will also never forget Dilan and Sebastian piling into the back of my car during lunch to run to Beck’s Prime after learning that a restaurant had pulled out at the last minute.) The way they sprang into action for the rest of the class showed their commitment to the school and to helping others in need.
This class did it again with the senior auction. You showed up and delivered. I can’t tell you how many people raved about the class after the completed auction event (shout-out to Oliver Geheb’s culinary talent!). Adam and the Super Fan Men also made assemblies fun (and somehow made sure the seniors won every contest?) and brought energy and enthusiasm to every function.
The most meaningful memory, however, was watching this class show up for Weston. Watching you all choke back tears reflected what 10600 is all about: brotherhood — in the good times and the not-so-good times.
Teaching is a funny profession. You invest so much time and energy into building relationships with people you know will leave you at the end of the year, but that’s how it is supposed to be. The good news is that the relationships we have built will last long after graduation because this is St. Mark’s.
Class of 2026, you will all be missed. Ever greater may you rise!

My dad used to always say, “I am full of useless information.” When asked to share a few words of wisdom with the class of 2026, I thought to myself, “I, too, harbor knowledge that no one really needs to know.” Then I decided this is exactly what I should share: Things no one really needs or wants to know. If you’re intrigued, keep reading. If not, well … on to your next article…
1. Pastor Ainsworth, my pastor at my church growing up, told us, “When I was dating my wife, I used to throw my jacket over a puddle of water so she wouldn’t have to get her shoes wet. After 25 of marriage, I would tell her, “Come on honey, you can jump over that puddle.” The message here is simple don’t let your love for your spouse grow stale. Find creative ways to show you care, and don’t let yourself deteriorate into a cold, crusty curmudgeon.
2. One of the greatest (if not the greatest) hitters of all time, Pete Rose, was coming off consecutive batting titles in 1968 and 1969. His dad always came to his home games in Cincinnati, and during one game his dad asked Pete what happened out there in his third at bat? Pete said he was frustrated he didn’t hit it harder, so he moped to first and did not wholeheartedly run out the grounder. His dad said, “Don’t ever embarrass me in our hometown again.” Pete didn’t. He hustled every play like he always had for years, and retained his well-earned nickname, “Charlie Hustle,” throughout his career. The message is obvious: If you are going to do something that would embarrass your friends, your family, or yourself… well… don’t do it. The sad ending here is Pete Rose later gambled on baseball, was banned for life and would have indeed embarrassed his pop had he still been alive to see the news. He forgot the message.
3. Coupons are great but never use a coupon on a first date. Also, if you find out your wife is going to have triplets, ask your hospital if they will match competitor’s coupons. Then, scour the Internet and see if you can find a “buy 2 get 1 free” coupon.
4. My dad used to always tell his boys and later his grandchildren, “Never pass up a chance to be useful.” When a lady would come in with a handful of groceries, or someone was struggling to open a door, or the dishwasher was ready to be emptied but the kids were sitting around playing Streetfighter on the Nintendo, I can still hear my dad say after a deep, wistful sigh, “You guys all missed your chance.…” My dad’s point was simple: Be on the lookout for ways to be a good human being, because that is what good human beings do. If Grandma asks you to take her car to get the oil changed, and you do it, she is happy. But when you go into the garage on your own accord and check how many miles until the next oil change, then take her car to the shop for care unprompted, … well… it shows her she is special.
5. My Uncle Alan, an elite drummer, often says during drumming lesson sessions, “Sometimes less is more.” The message here? It is the simple things that really matter. Lending a sympathetic ear can be more valuable than a diamond ring.
6. My grandfather used to say, “A good sermon doesn’t have to be very long… and a bad sermon SHOULDN’T be very long….”
With that quote, I will end my note. I’ll let you guys decide if it was a good or bad sermon.

ools is the cycle and rhythm of a school year. We know when the year starts. We know when Spring Break is coming. And we know when it’s time to say goodbye. Bittersweet though it may be, for faculty, it’s also an incredibly proud moment as we graduate another class of students, launching them into their next chapters, knowing that we’ve each had a small part in shaping this group of young men.
We’ve reached that point. The 2025 – 2026 school year is ending, and soon we part ways. As I think back and reflect on this class, what struck me most is their presence. The Class of 2026 was never vying for the spotlight, but they showed up every day in so many ways, for each other and this school community. Being a leader is difficult. Being a quiet leader is even harder. I think that’s a skill set this class demonstrated well.
I have the unusual vantage of walking alongside a class through an exciting, emotional, charged process: college applications. I get to see who these students are, as well as a glimpse of who they hope to become. The range of this class is inspiring.
They are gear heads and painters, fencers and water polo players, film kids and choir guys. They coached younger students, chaired events, edited publications, and built things that will outlast their time here. Yes, there are many future finance bros, but they have spirit and soul, and I hope they remember that as they step into their next chapter.
This class had grinders, and it had the very important “glue guys”—the ones who held things together behind the scenes, who stepped up when something fell through, who made sure the work got done without needing recognition for it. And many of them carried real weight along the way: high expectations, family challenges, the pressure of simply figuring out who you are at 17. Most of them handled it with more grace than they realized.
What I’ll carry from the Class of 2026 is how genuinely invested they were in each other, willing to do the unglamorous work, and building something together that mattered.
Class of 2026, this is not goodbye forever. We will miss you, but now, it is your time to launch. Congratulations on reaching the exciting chapter ahead!