Salutatorian Isabelle Cox-Garleanu ‘26 Addresses Her Class

On Friday, May 15, the Class of 2026 gathered for the penultimate time to celebrate and reflect on their time at MICDS. Salutatorian Isabelle Cox-Garleanu ’26 addressed her peers. Here are her remarks.

Good evening, classmates, friends, families, and faculty,

My name is Isabelle, or Izzy, Cox-Garleanu, and it is an honor to stand before you as this year’s salutatorian.

Congratulations, Class of 2026. We made it. As I say these words, I am experiencing immense déja vu. Many of you may recall that exactly four years ago, I stood before you at our middle school graduation. In my speech, I had the privilege of telling you that this very day would come. And here we are. Four field days, four homecomings, one infamous ALT paper, countless third lunches that tested our patience, a long-awaited senior walkthrough and lovely May Day later, we mark the end of high school and the beginning of our futures with our beloved peers, families, and teachers.

While this is exciting, it can simultaneously feel overwhelming to think of all the possibilities that are out there for us. The home of the Rams is now the home of tomorrow’s legislators and lawyers, engineers and doctors, nurses and psychologists, athletes and showstoppers. Our options are infinite. How will we choose what to pursue? What do we do when we want to be all? The answer is simple. Be all. Say yes to the things you are scared of and once you are no longer scared, find new obstacles to conquer. Never shy away from embracing opportunities, no matter how frightening they may seem at first. Stay curious, impatient, even, to discover what more this world can become with you in it. As you pursue your dreams and chart your own path through life, always remember who you are. You and I; we are MICDS graduates. What a privilege and honor to meet the challenges of this world as such.

Before moving to St. Louis, I had lived in the Bay Area in California and in Paris, France. Still today, when I share my background with fellow St. Louisans, they often express surprise at what they assume is a “downgrade” in having come here. There’s even a name for this phenomenon: “St. Louis Inferiority Complex,” which you may have come across in the local media. But I don’t feel that way at all. I am very fond of St. Louis. Although I’ve only lived here for five years, I proudly consider this wonderful hidden gem my hometown. In the past several months, I have wondered what my life might have been like if I had never moved here, had I attended high school somewhere else. But every time, I find myself returning to the same conclusion that it couldn’t have been as good as the way I had it as a member of the Class of 2026 at MICDS. I can now say that I once knew you, and that our time together was nothing short of thrilling and unforgettable.

We would not have become the people we are today were it not for our supportive and eye-opening teachers, advisors, and dean. They have shaped our thinking and stretched our worldview. For instance, the MICDS English department completely changed mine. Before high school, I fervently believed I would never enjoy a book more than Harry Potter. Thanks to Mr. Tourais in particular, that is no longer true, which is certainly surprising because I once passed out from neglecting food and water for hours while gluing my nose to a Harry Potter book. So if you don’t take anything else away from my speech, at least remember this: there is no “healthy” addiction.

MICDS has made me feel about a variety of subjects the way I felt about Harry Potter growing up. At its best, education should beget that all-consuming kind of love and wonder, and MICDS has done that, again and again. I am sure all of you can think of a class, conversation, performance, practice, tournament, or game on this campus that made you lose track of time because it captivated your whole self, because in that moment, only the pixels of the present brought color to your life. I hope you never stop searching for that feeling, long after school ends.

I hope, long after school ends, that you will look forward to still being a student. Life is a continuous classroom in which we learn through our friendships and relationships, our triumphs and mistakes. Sure, maybe school will no longer look like Dean George searching for his relocated furniture, or Harrison making academic excellence look effortless, or Siboney lighting up this stage at nearly every assembly, or STUCO’s Tuesday Treat wheel holding fifty-nine advisories in suspense each week, but we will forever be students. Cheers to being students of life.

My gratitude to everyone.