by Chase Connor
My childhood was over.
I’d never had to walk up to a podium in front of nearly a thousand people when my name was called so that I could accept my diploma last in a huge group of high school seniors. Also, I’d never been asked to take the podium from a headmaster and give the last speech of the day to that same one-thousand people. Regardless, when I took the tube of paper—which wasn’t a real diploma, but just a prop, actually—and then look out at the crowd of proud parents, other relatives, and friends watching everyone graduate, I did what was expected. I gave a speech.
The thing is, I’d never been given a podium, a microphone, and a captive audience before. No one had ever been forced to listen to anything I wanted to say. Ever.
When Alex’s father, the headmaster of Dextrus Academy had called me into his office to officially tell me that I was going to be valedictorian, he told me that I would need to give a speech. Specifically, I needed to give an appropriate speech that lasted anywhere from three to seven minutes. When I had asked what “appropriate” meant, he just said that there should be no “coarse language,” “sexual language,” or anything that might incite the students in the audience to do something unruly.
Headmaster Johnson, Alex’s father, had known me for four years of high school, and I had been dating his son for nearly one full year of those four. So, I couldn’t help but wonder why he felt the need to give me those warnings. I mean, I just wasn’t the type to curse in front of a bunch of people, use sexual language, or incite violence or riots. Of course, I realized that he probably gave that speech to every valedictorian of every class he had been headmaster over. It still stung a little bit that he didn’t trust me more since I was, in fact, his son’s boyfriend.
Regardless of the fact that Alex’s father had to warn me like he would any other student giving the commencement speech, I knew that I had an opportunity. A microphone with a captive audience is one of the most significant opportunities an eighteen-year-old can get in their high school career. Especially when it happens at an event where people are dissuaded from storming out in the middle of said event. So, I had begun planning my speech as soon as I knew that I would be giving it.
After receiving my not-diploma and a handshake from Headmaster Johnson, he gestured for me to take the podium. I had already spotted my father in the front row, watery eyes, wide grin, ready to hear what I had to say. Even though he had already listened to the speech twice before as I stood before him in our living room. All I could think was that I hoped it would make him proud.
“When Headmaster Johnson told me that I was going to be valedictorian a few weeks ago and that I’d have to give a speech, I had to decide what I wanted to talk about. Obviously, I immediately Google’d ‘how to give a valedictorian speech,’ because how else would I know what to do? I haven’t done this in at least six months. A guy tends to forget all of the speeches he has given to so many people—and how terrifying it is to do it.
This might sound like I’m at the Grammys accepting an award, but I knew that I would be remiss if I didn’t mention gratitude. How utterly grateful I am to Headmaster Johnson, the school board, and Dextrus Academy for the opportunity to attend classes here. I have no doubt that it is the reason I am going to UCLA this fall—maybe the only reason. I know that sounds weird coming from the kid giving the valedictorian speech, but intelligence doesn’t necessarily get you anywhere in life.
It helps…but there are a lot of intelligent people out there who aren’t doing anything all that extraordinary.
However, when intelligence meets privilege, wondrous things can happen.
I don’t know if anyone noticed, but I’m kind of different than a lot of the students who attend Dextrus Academy. And I’m not just talking about the very obvious difference you can see with your eyes.
I’m biracial. Black and white. Though, I guess, I just look black.
I was also mostly just raised by my father, who became a widower when I was still very young. Barely out of diapers, actually.
No offense to anyone in the audience, but he’s the best dad in the world.
But I might be biased.
We’re not rich.
I attended Dextrus Academy the last four years on scholarship, mostly because my dad works here as a teacher and I had good grades at my previous school.
I’m not as privileged as most of my fellow students.
I say ‘not as privileged’ because there are some ways in which I am very privileged.
I have an amazing father who has always made me feel that if I shot for the stars, I’d hit my mark. He’s loved me. Nurtured me. Treated me with dignity and respect. Taught me each step of the way through life and guided me towards becoming a man that I hope he will be proud of for a long time.
I owe everything to him.
I’m a middle-class black kid who got to attend Dextrus Academy and receive one of the finest high school educations you can get in this country.
Counselors and teachers at this school have supported me and encouraged me, never made me feel like I wasn’t as or more capable than other students.
I can’t help but wonder how things would have been if I were a middle-class black kid going to public school. Would teachers and counselors have told me that attending UCLA was a possibility? Or would they have scoffed at the notion that someone like me could achieve such a thing? It’s a funny thing, what a little privilege can change in a person’s life.
I don’t know if anyone here noticed this, but I’m the only person of color in this school. When the next batch of freshmen come through the doors of Smythe Hall in September, there won’t be a single person of color amongst them.
I don’t say this to shame the school, the school board, the staff…or anyone at this commencement today.
I say it to point out privilege.
Noam Chomsky said:
“The more privilege you have, the more opportunity you have. The more opportunity you have, the more responsibility you have.”
The more privilege I had—attending Dextrus Academy—the more opportunity I had. I am going to UCLA this fall with a full academic scholarship. I am so grateful.
Because I had that privilege, I had that opportunity, and that means I have a responsibility to fulfill.
I had to point out that not enough opportunity is being given at this school. It’s a wonderful school with a fantastic staff. Especially my dad. Though, again, I might be a little biased.
It’s incumbent upon me, as valedictorian, to point out to the staff and school board the opportunity this school has to give other kids who might not be privileged enough to attend, the opportunity to do so. Especially those who are brown and aren’t that affluent. Intelligence and opportunity equal great things, right?
To my fellow students in the graduating class of 2019, it’s my responsibility to ask you—how will you use your privilege? When you finish college and become…whatever it is you will become…how will you help to fill the world with opportunities for others? How will you provide privilege to others? How will you make the world a better place? Will you fulfill your responsibility?
If anything, my time at Dextrus Academy has made me realize that, due to my own privilege, I have the responsibility to create opportunities for others. I can’t leave Dextrus Academy, a middle-class biracial kid—oh, and also gay—and ignore that I have been afforded an opportunity similar kids to myself may never get.
Besides my father being my hero, that is why I have decided to study education. To help other young minds find their opportunities. To help them believe in themselves. To shoot for the stars.
So…shoot for the stars, guys.
Just remember to bring some other people who might not look like you along for the ride.
Thank you.”
There’s no way to describe what it feels like to see your entire graduating class give you a standing ovation. Even if some other people in the audience didn’t look as impressed, at least my peers were on board. They
were the future generation who would work to make the world a better place…so that was all that mattered to me.
Chapter 2
Logan
Cooper’s arms were covered in flour from his hands all the way up to his elbows, and I’d never seen him look so happy. Cheryl was laughing loudly and squealing as he chased her around the worktable in the donut shop, trying to rub his arms on her. My grin was so enormous that it was almost painful as I watched the two of them acting like mother and son. Well, maybe not mother and son, but step-mother and son, but it was still beautiful to watch. It was beyond my control that I had to laugh uproariously as I watched my friend and his father’s girlfriend acting like fools. Cooper’s mother had died when he was very young, and he had never known what it was like to have a mother figure. Cheryl had admirably stepped into the role once her relationship with Cooper’s father became serious. My heart was full watching Cooper experience something I had taken for granted my entire life.
Cheryl had been giving Cooper donut-making lessons every Sunday for the last month of school so that he would “have something to fall back on” if college didn’t work out. Of course, neither Cheryl nor Cooper thought that UCLA wouldn’t pan out for him, but it was a way for the two of them to spend time together and learn more about each other. I knew that Mr. Weissman was happy to see his girlfriend and his son get along so well since they were the two most important people in his life. Watching Cheryl and Cooper make donuts together for the first time made me realize why Mr. Weissman loved the two of these people so much. They were complete idiots—but amazing idiots.
“Cooper!” Cheryl squealed through laughter, finally getting on the opposite side of the worktable as him. “Don’t you dare!”
“Okay, okay.” Cooper shrugged and held his arms out so he wouldn’t get even more flour on himself. “I’ll stop. Where were we?”
“We’re all done, ya’ big doofus.” Cheryl shook her head at him.
Doofus. That made me laugh, thinking of anyone calling Cooper, of all people, a “doofus.” The name certainly didn’t fit him in any way.
“Why don’t you go wash up and get out of here?” Cheryl waved him off with a laugh. “I’ll clean up this disaster area.”
“I’ll help.” Cooper shook his head.
“No.” Cheryl pointed a finger at him playfully. “Logan is waiting on you, right, Logan? I’ll take care of the mess, darnit.”
Cooper glanced over at me.
“Do as the woman says, man!” I laughed.
Cheryl smiled and winked at me.
“Fine, fine.” Cooper threw his hands up, a cloud of flour forming over his and Cheryl’s heads.
All of us had to laugh again as the cloud slowly drifted downwards, making it look as if Cooper and Cheryl were in the middle of a snowstorm. Finally, Cooper went to the back of the kitchen in the donut shop—which had been locked up for the day—and washed his hands and arms off in the sink. Once he was sufficiently clean, we said our “goodbyes” to Cheryl and made our way out to my car. Cooper and I had ridden together in Cooper’s car to the donut shop so he could get his weekly lesson from Cheryl, so we piled into his car once more.
Once we were both buckled up, Cooper turned on the radio, the next song he had queued up, ‘Carry On’ by Fun., began lowly playing. Cooper gave me a smile and pulled out of the donut shop parking lot, heading in the direction of his house once more. Once we were away from the shop and had reached the first stoplight, I turned to my friend.
“So,” I broached the topic again, “have you given any more thought to the beach house?”
During the last week of school, my dad had offered to rent the same beach house in Maine we had stayed at during spring break for Cooper, Alex, A.J., and me to spend a couple weeks together as our collective graduation present. I had immediately mentioned it to Cooper, but he had been hesitant to give me an answer on whether or not he thought it was a great idea. The bad part was, my dad had already reserved the beach house since not doing so would surely mean that someone else would. I just needed Cooper to agree to spend a few weeks in Maine with the other guys and me.
“I mean…come on, Cooper.” I pled with him. “Two weeks to just hang out, surf, sit around the firepit, be lazy…”
I glanced into the backseat as if making sure no one had snuck into the car to listen to our private conversation.
“…sex up our boyfriends…”
Cooper gave me a disapproving, yet mischievous look.
“It’s kind of public knowledge now that I’m gay.” He grinned evilly at me. “Don’t be furtive for my sake.”
“Sorry.” I chewed at my lip. “I know I need to be brave, too, man.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, still…”
“Man,” Cooper chewed at his lip, “this is my last summer with Dad. He’ll kill me if I tell him I want to go spend two weeks of summer up in Maine without him. I mean, come on, Logan. Do you want him to kill me before I ever get the chance to attend UCLA?”
We both laughed at the thought of Mr. Weissman actually killing Cooper. Not that the man wasn’t capable of throttling someone to death, but the odds that he would actually cause Cooper harm were low.
I didn’t want to pressure my best friend in the whole world to go to Maine if he truly didn’t want to, but I knew that he did. Mr. Weissman and Cooper had a bond any father and son would be envious of, and that was the only thing that made him not so sure. However, after having spent one of the best spring breaks ever with all of my friends and my parents—as well as Mr. Weissman and Cheryl—I was dying to recreate the vacation. Only with just my friends and my boyfriend. We were all high school graduates—adults, even—and I wanted us all to have a “Guys’ Trip” together to cement our bond before we all scattered with the winds in fall.
“Just promise me that you will ask him tonight,” I said. “I mean…if we’re going to do this, it has to be next Monday. So, we don’t have time for you to dick around, man.”
Cooper’s brow furrowed as he glanced at me out of the side of his eye as he drove.
“What?” I asked.
“The beach house is already reserved.” Cooper shook his head. “Isn’t it?”
“No.” I insisted. “Well, okay. Yes. Dad reserved it last month. Just to make sure we would get it. Don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” Cooper rolled his eyes. “But now you’re forcing me to talk to my dad and agree to this trip. Ya’ jack-wagon.”
I laughed.
“My dad is going to kill me.” He groaned.
“No, he won’t.” I smiled widely. “Your dad loves me. And maybe he will want to have a couple weeks so he can spend quality time with Cheryl, right? Bow-chicka-wow-wow.”
“I’ll kill you.” Cooper grinned evilly, his eyes on the road. “I won’t even miss you afterward.”
We both laughed loudly as Cooper pulled into his driveway.
“Just…just ask him as soon as you can. Okay?” I grinned at him as I unbuckled my seat belt. “Then text me later and let me know he said ‘okay’ and then you get Alex on board. A.J. is already super stoked to get up to Maine.”
“Of course, he is.” Cooper deadpanned. “He can’t wait to be in a beach house with you and no parents, idiot. He can make all the noise he wants.”
Laughing was all I could do as I blushed and thought about all of the things my boyfriend probably had in mind for the beach house. A.J., my boyfriend, was one of the most amazing human beings to ever be born, but Cooper wasn’t totally off base. My boyfriend was also a complete horndog. When we had first started dating, both of us had been virgins. We had quickly rectified that. Since that moment, the two of us couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. A.J. was just more vocal about his enjoyment of those activities out of the two of us. He didn’t care who knew it, either. Well, other than our parents.
“Like Alex won’t be thrilled to have you all to himself for two weeks with no parents around to
give you the evil eye.” I laughed. “Your boyfriend is just as horny as mine, Cooper.”
Cooper smiled gently at the thought.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, shit, Cooper.” I frowned. “What is it? Is something wrong with you and Alex? I mean…everything has seemed okay, right? Did he do something?”
“No.” Cooper waved me off, his head falling back against the headrest as he stared out of the windshield at nothing. “It’s just…he’s kind of irritated with me over the speech I gave at commencement because his dad got all raw about it because the school board got their panties in a bunch over getting a lecture on diversity. I know they’ll both get over that because they’re going to realize that it had to be said—and who better to say it besides the gay black guy, right? But we are going to have the next four years together at UCLA. He’s going there, I’m going there…I just don’t want it all to become the ‘Cooper and Alex Show’ too early, ya’ know?”
“Do you not want to be with Alex?” My eyes grew to saucers at the thought.
Alex and Cooper were two people who were obviously meant to be together. In fact, when I had first started my senior year at Dextrus Academy, I had asked Cooper out on a date. When it became apparent that he was actually in love with Alex—who he was supposed to be fixing me up with instead of going out with me himself—I had pushed the two of them together. Confusing? Sure. But Alex and Cooper were deeply in love. I thought.
“Of course, I want to be with Alex, silly ass.” Cooper laughed. “I mean, I expect we’ll have a house and kids and all of that stuff one day. I mean, I’d love to have kids with Alex. I hope I can be as good a dad to my kids as my dad is to me. But we don’t have to start the rest of our lives right this second, ya’ know?”
Nodding along, I could understand what my friend was saying. We were both eighteen-years-old. We had our whole lives ahead of us, and even if we felt like our current boyfriends were who we were going to end up with forever, forever could wait a while longer.
