Good evening, and welcome to our Studio students, families, alumni, friends, teachers, staff, Board of Trustees—and most especially to our graduating 8th graders.

This evening marks the culmination of years of learning, growth, challenge, and discovery. It is a moment of celebration and gratitude as we recognize all that these eighth graders have accomplished.

Zarah and Khendyll, you were only six years old when you first walked through our doors. Shan, you joined us a year later at age seven. Arrow, Jarah, and Rhys, the three of you began at Studio in middle school.

Over the years, we have watched each of you grow into an integral part of our community. You have blossomed into thoughtful, distinctive, and remarkable young people, each bringing your own gifts, talents, and perspectives to our school. In many ways, you have helped shape this community just as much as it has helped shape you.

One of the things that makes our community so special is that it allows each person to belong while also becoming more fully themselves. Over the years, each of you has contributed something unique, and together you have helped create a place where people are known, valued, and connected. Those relationships—and the experience of being part of something larger than yourselves—are among the most enduring gifts you will take with you.

Before speaking further to the graduating students and addressing all that lies ahead, we want to thank the many people who have made this journey possible.

To the families and friends gathered here tonight: thank you. There is something beautiful about witnessing another person's journey—not only their successes, but also the growing pains, uncertainties, and moments of transformation that accompany adolescence. Your encouragement, patience, and support have meant more than you know.

We also want to recognize the extraordinary teachers and staff who have worked with these students over the years.  They have done far more than teach subjects. They have opened doors to new ideas, challenged students to think deeply, nurtured talents, and invested their hearts in these young people. And to our Board of Trustees whose commitment to our school and ongoing support help make experiences like this possible for our students. Please join us in thanking them.

Eighth graders, your years at Studio have offered something increasingly rare and increasingly important. In a world that often encourages speed, distraction, and easy answers, Studio has asked something different of you. It has asked you to slow down, engage deeply, work through challenges, and recognize that learning is not something you do alone.

Relationships are at the heart of our community. Over the years, you have learned that relationships reveal who you are. They challenge you, support you, and help you grow.

You have also learned the value of authenticity. Here, you have had the opportunity to discover who you are and what matters to you.

You have written, read, researched, experimented, debated, questioned, and created. You have sung, performed, cooked and eaten,  played games and sports.  In classrooms, on stage, in the park, and in countless conversations, you have developed your minds, discovered your interests, and grown into the people you are becoming. These experiences are more than memories; they are part of the foundation you carry forward.

As you leave Studio and begin high school, we hope you carry with you a strong sense of what is genuine. We hope you continue to build meaningful connections and remain open to learning with the people around you. The world needs people who can think independently, but it also needs people who know how to belong to a community.

This evening, you stand at a threshold. Graduation is both an ending and a beginning. It is a moment of pride, gratitude, excitement, and perhaps a little uncertainty. One of the gifts of this school is that it has taught you not to rush past complexity.

You are leaving Studio, but Studio is also leaving with you—in the way you listen to others, collaborate, stay curious, and care for your communities.

May you always know that you have a home here on West 95th Street, a place to return, reconnect, and continue the conversation.

Congratulations, Class of 2026. We are proud of who you are, grateful for all you have contributed to this community, and excited to see where your journey leads.

Good evening, We are enriched in many ways by the commitment and generosity of our Board of Trustees, Administrators, Faculty and Staff, Parents and Past Parents, Students, Alumni, Grandparents, Relatives, Friends, and Colleagues. The long and lasting relationships we’ve made at Studio are a wonderful model for our children. Our students are fortunate to be in such a caring and welcoming community. 

Please join me in visualizing Maya Angelou’s observation. She wrote, “We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” 

Graduation is often a celebration of arrival, and Angelou reminds us to honor the transformation itself. 

Khendyll, Zarah, Arrow, Jarah, Rhys, and Shan, this is your moment. Watching you and your teachers these past few weeks, preparing for this day, has affirmed the power and the beauty of how each of you have moved through the process. This particular work could only happen with your willingness and ability to delve and be true to yourselves, not knowing what your speech would eventually say.  

We've all had that moment while walking through a forest and suddenly realizing we aren’t entirely sure where we came from, where we're going, or whether we're even close to our destination. You might be surprised to hear that I often ask those same questions alongside our teachers. Sometimes, I feel like I'm in Middle School again, sometimes I stumble and can’t find my way. There are moments when I wonder: Are we doing enough? Am I helping us navigate through the wobbly woods…  or shall I say, wobbly world?  

This year’s Middle School play, Oh Wobbly Woods, captured something profound about the truths of being humans in this world together, giving us hope and connection. Ms. Mabey and the middle school writing team, who began the creative process earlier than ever, explored themes of belonging, responsibility, interconnectedness, and how we care for each other in times of uncertainty and change. Through the trials and growing wisdom of its animal characters, our students reminded us that especially when the world feels wobbly, we need each other. 

I would now like to share a few excerpts from Oh Wobbly Woods. The words you are about to hear were written by our middle school students. 

‍THE PLAY BEGINS WITH THE LINE: 

Owl says to Bear
‍I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been? 

‍THE PLAY ENDS, AFTER WEEKS IN THE FOREST WITH THE FOLLOWING SCENE 

‍Woodpecker: We came back because we understand now, our need for a home made us forget what it feels like to be blamed. 

‍Jackdaw 1: We, too, have had time to think. 

‍Woodpecker: We realize that we all live in this forest together and everything we do affects everything else. 

‍Fox: We know we won’t all get along, and yet we all belong to this place. 

‍Jackdaw 1: My fellow Jackdaws and I have been asking ourselves why we are always moving, never staying long enough to understand a place. 

‍Gray Raccoon: And we have been thinking about what it means to lose a home. 

‍Owl: Then perhaps we can say this: we needed each other to understand what we were missing. 

‍Jackdaw 1: And we have learned that setting down roots can be as meaningful as chasing the unknown. 

‍Tortoise: In all my years, I have come to learn this: a forest is not made only of trees and ground, but of those who choose to care for it and each other. 

‍Fox: I think I speak for us when I say here, that we hope you will help us become the kind of community we are meant to be. 

‍Jackdaw 1: And I speak for the Jackdaws and say we are open to trying again with patience, honesty, and a willingness to truly listen. 

Owl: When you live in the forest, it's easy to see that everything and everyone is connected. 

‍End of Play 

Middle School can often feel like its own wobbly woods. These are years of tremendous change. Adolescents are discovering who they are while navigating shifting friendships, growing independence, moments of confidence and self-doubt, hormones galore, changing brains and minds, and the exciting but daunting work of exploring where they might want to belong. 

The Greek Philosopher, Heraclitus, famously said that “No one ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and they're not the same person.” 

Similarly, no two years, or two groups of students, are ever the same. Each year, each group, and each student, brings new challenges, new discoveries, and new opportunities for growth - for our students and for ourselves. 

‍As you might have noticed, middle school is not the only stage of life that feels wobbly. There are the worlds inside our classrooms and homes, and then there is the larger world beyond impacting us ever more closely. We live in a time of overwhelming challenges: social, political, economic, environmental, compounded by the surge of social media and AI. 

As we grow older, the landscape varies, and we must tend to and reevaluate our perspectives and actions for living: How do we care for each other? How do we stay grounded in our values? How do we raise children with hope and resilience in such a tangled atmosphere? 

Exploring these questions reminds us why Studio’s mission matters so crucially: educating the hearts and minds of children as we nurture the unfolding of their authentic spirit and character. With kindness, morality, respect, justice, and compassion, we seek to help children flourish, creating a more harmonious future. 

Over time, Studio students learn to:

• Ask appropriately, for what they need and want.
• Have all their feelings—positive and negative—and know how to express them appropriately.
• Embrace curiosity and growth as a continuous process, a lifelong love of learning.
• Work to the best of their ability, whether they like it or not.
• Know that they do not need to be friends with a particular person, they need to make a respectful, working relationship.
• Understand that they are individuals within a larger group, and that both the individual and the group are seen and heard by all.
• Most importantly, they come to understand that everything is in everyone and that we are all part of humankind.

Throughout their learning experiences, they are engaged in both creative and critical thinking and rigorous scholarship across the disciplines, as well as helping to develop emotional and social intelligence, ultimately taking ownership of their education. Hence, our Gala theme, Arete– the practice of living with excellence, is to engage in the process of learning and growing, with energy and purpose. 

Studio empowers children to connect who they are with what they learn, to cultivate original, independent thinking, and embrace academic excellence. These are words you have heard often, however it’s not until graduation evening, when we listen so intently to our eighth grader speeches, that we truly understand what this means. What is always remarkable is how each student integrates their learning, making it their own. 

Our woods may vary, our paths may shift, and our challenges and triumphs take new forms. We must never stop finding our way through them, rooted in ourselves, our family and friends, our values, and community, knowing that only together can we bring forth the essence and radiance of our best selves for the well-being of all. 

Khendyll, Zarah, Arrow, Jarah, Rhys, and Shan–may you continue to talk and listen, listen and talk, be joyful and adventurous in your learning, develop meaningful and loving relationships, be kind to yourself, and believe, that the life that’s in you is the life that’s in me… or is it the life that’s within me is the life that’s within you.

The people sitting next to you, behind you, in front of you — you have cooked together in our school kitchen, danced together at the gala, gathered around our Thanksgiving tables, cheered in the audience at our Studio Players productions, and shown up for each other in more ways than any program can list. This is what we build with intention, year after year.

In a world that often feels isolating and rushed, The Studio School makes a deliberate choice to do something different. To start with the whole child, heart and mind together, and to surround that child with a community of people equally invested in who they were becoming. Not just what they could achieve, but who they were growing into.

Every classroom, every shared meal, every hard conversation and every joyful one was part of that. What strikes me most is that the community doesn't just support the school — it is the school.

Graduates, you are leaving here with something most people spend a lifetime searching for. You know how to learn. You know how to think for yourself and how to work alongside others. You know how to be a contributing member of something larger than yourself. And you know, perhaps most importantly, something real and true about who you are. Take that with you. Let it lead you. Seek out communities like this one wherever life takes you. You now know what it feels like to be truly seen, truly supported, and truly challenged all at once.

I want to start with a story. Last year in Art Class, Ms. Refol gave us an assignment to paint a fruit. I selected a pomegranate and cut it in half to be able to see the seeds, patterns, and ridges. I had never done anything like this before and painting something realistic was challenging for me. First, we focused on sketching the shapes and worked with chalk to make outlines. The next step was to look at the shadows and colors of what I saw, rather than what I thought a pomegranate should look like. As I painted, I had to trust the process and that the finished painting would be a realistic representation of a pomegranate. As I learned to look more carefully at what was actually there, rather than what I expected to see, I realized that relationships work in a similar way. When we take the time to truly see others, we also allow ourselves to be seen.

Over the years, through the relationships I built here with my teachers, my friends, and my family, I learned that I didn't have to be perfect to be accepted. I could trust that the people around me would support me, even when I was nervous or unsure. Just like Shelly followed the winding path we created for her, I have slowly stepped outside of my comfort zone. Through challenging assignments, meaningful conversations, sharing my ideas in class, and even singing solos, I have learned that growth doesn't happen when we stay where it is safe.

When I painted the pomegranate, I learned to look beyond what I expected to see and pay attention to what was actually there. Relationships have taught me that being truly seen starts with having the courage to let others see who we are. As I graduate, I know that the connections I have built here have shaped who I am. They have taught me to treat others with kindness, to give people space to grow, and to trust myself enough to step outside of my shell. As I move forward to high school, I know that even when the path isn't straight, I don't have to walk it alone.

Khendyll will be attending High School of Fashion Industries in the fall.

Many experiences and people have helped me grow throughout the years in a multitude of different ways, but if I had to identify one group who have heavily influenced me, I would feel obliged to mention my teachers at Studio. Each one has taught me something that I am certain that I will never forget. Each of them contributed to my learning in their own way, and that is something that I will never be able to thank them enough for. Under their guidance, I have changed profoundly in many different ways, from how I explore and expand my interests to how I participate socially and as a student.

One of the most impactful experiences I’ve had these last three years is the middle school play. It has been immensely important not only because we get to put on a show to entertain all of our parents and fellow students, but because we get to see ourselves flourish as we take on bigger roles and challenges throughout the years. Each year I have enjoyed seeing myself take on a bigger, more difficult role and truly embracing my acting skills. This year, I played the Wise Owl. The complexity of the character taught me that wisdom doesn’t have to be loud and demonstrative, it can come from being stable and observant, while helping others find their way.      

Over time, I learned that growth comes not only from watching the world around you, but from participating in it. I learned to ask questions, advocate for myself, build relationships, and contribute to the communities I am part of. As I move forward into high school, I know that I won't have everything figured out right away, but that I am capable of finding my place and embracing new challenges. I now realize that some of the most intimidating changes can lead to the most profound growth, and that change is not something to fear, but a blessing to appreciate.

Jarah will be attending Irvington High School in the fall.

As I reflect on these past few years, I realize there have been plenty of changes. Change has taken me on so many unexpected turns, and each is vastly different. During my early years, I didn’t know I was moving, so it felt like one day I was speaking Mandarin, Pǔtōnghuà, to my friends, then a move to France, which was somewhat smooth, and then the massive move to the United States, Měi Guó, and I was suddenly in a giant American city, with no one to help me, and if you think my parents could’ve helped, they couldn’t speak English either. Everything was unfamiliar and so many people crowded on the streets. I could barely see my parents walking ahead of me in the distance. It was different here, and it took time to grow to like it, but eventually I did, and I consider New York my home. I realize that my mother made the right decision bringing me to The Studio School and I’m grateful that she did.

Once I settled in, I started to like how everyone at Studio knew each other. How everyone at Studio would see each other in the hallways and call each other by name. It reminded me of when I was in China, Zōng Guó, where everyone also knew each other. It felt familiar to have everyone act almost like a family inside the school. It was comforting to know that making relationships is not too different here from China. In time I got more connected to everyone at The Studio School.

Once I began to adjust to life at Studio, I started to enjoy some of my classes. I looked forward to Work Period right from the beginning. The teachers for that class were Ms. Refol and Ms. Bell, and one of my earliest memories was making a foam puppet. I didn’t know how to work with the material, but then I figured out how to cut slits to make a mouth. From there, I had the freedom to add whatever I wanted, to make the puppet be what I wanted, and I had the choice to make my own designs.

In all the years, change has always been there, allied with me and against me. Change used to scare me, it used to make me cry, panic. I used to fear it. The more experiences I have with change, the more I start to enjoy the new view. But sometimes it’s too much to ask for, too much to do. A complete change of setting has gotten me to see value in the places people would overlook. Now that I know; change is not something to be scared of all the time.

Shan will be attending the Rudolf Steiner School in the fall.

As I’ve grown, I have learned that there is a right time for everything. I have learned how to work in a group, how to listen to everyone's ideas, and how to stay open to possibilities. Some of my most memorable experiences at Studio have come from group projects. I love the way people are able to come together and work on something important.

I remember my first Gatherings class. All of the Elementary and Middle School students and teachers came together in the gym to build a miniature city using colorful blocks. Some people created exciting destinations like movie theaters and aquariums, while others, including me, built roads connecting everyone's structures. Looking back, I think it is fitting that I chose to build roads. This experience helped me learn how to connect with others and express myself better than I had before.

Something that's been a part of my life for a few years now is my piano studies. I’ve found that playing music corresponds with life quite well. When playing music, you have to pay attention to rhythm and timing, similar to knowing when to speak, when to listen patiently, and when to take the next step in life.

In the same way, it takes time and patience to build strong friendships and relationships. I've learned that growth isn't something you can rush. Like learning a piece of music, it takes practice and patience before all of the parts come together. I think being at Studio has helped me trust that I will be ready for each new step when the time comes.

Arrow will be attending Irvington High School in the fall.

After years of waiting and watching all my friends graduate, I am finally here. My only goal tonight is to be authentic. While this might sound like a given, I have gone through many phases of Rhys. I came to Studio in the fifth grade after a pretty rough fourth-grade year. I arrived for my first day in September, confused and consumed with the fear of the unknown: How many people would be there? What would we have for lunch? Would the teachers understand me?

I so badly wanted a school where I could be understood, and yet I made that very difficult. Being at school had always felt like a prison to me. I had this idea that being a good student meant giving up all freedom and simply doing whatever was asked of me. I thought that if I did that, I would lose myself. So even though I enjoyed learning, I felt conflicted. It was hard to learn because I was blocking myself from taking in anything at all - from anyone. I was terrified of becoming a mindless, word-repeating robot.

I was also really hard on myself. If I faced rejection, it felt like my life would be over. So if I didn't try too hard, I could coast through middle school and protect myself. Little did I know that was the worst decision I could make. All it meant was that I kept putting up barriers and blockades to learning and growth. Worst of all, it wasn't just affecting me, it was affecting other people too.

Then, as of maybe a month ago, after years of my teachers trying every possible way to excite me, inspire me, challenge me, and support me, I discovered a new superpower. I think the only thing more powerful than resistance is caring deeply about something. It took many years, countless conversations, Tutorial assignments I fought against, and complicated friendships to realize that deep down, I do care about who I am and what I bring to this world.

For years, I told myself that I needed to be someone else to fit in, or please other people, and that is exactly what happened, more than I’d like to admit. Now, I’m trying to change that inner voice. I’m trying to be kinder to myself, accept that nothing happens perfectly, and that there is value in trying. When it doesn't work out, at least you have a story you can tell.

Looking back, I realize these experiences all helped me develop a different understanding of freedom - not as the absence of limits, but as the ability to think for yourself.

Rhys will be attending The United Nations International School in the fall.

I have always walked through the world, wondering how and why everything works in the way that it does. I adore delving into everything and persistently asking questions because it isn’t easy to enjoy learning or everyday life if you aren’t curious or interested. Trying a little bit of everything and not attaching myself to one particular area or experience has helped me better understand the things I care about most.

Living and colorful things particularly appeal to my curiosity, and I have a particular profound interest in Entomology– the study of insects. This fascination may come from the fact that they play such an important role in the balance of our ecosystem and the wonder of how something so small can do so much for our world in such a short lifespan. Now, I know that other people universally say “Ew!” and shriek in terror when they see a bug. That reaction only makes them even more appealing to me. There is always an inside and an outside to everything. We can’t understand what’s happening beneath the surface of something if we don’t care to see it. With this logic, I think of the metamorphosis of a moth or a butterfly in the same way that a person grows – it is just that their metamorphosis is on the outside, and ours is on the inside.

As I’ve progressed through my time here at Studio, I have learned to know through and through that one of the most important things about learning is knowing myself. For years in Work Period, it was difficult when a project or a personal piece did not end up necessarily how I wanted it to. I had a desire for perfection that always lived within me, although I couldn’t name where it came from. I think when I reached a certain age, I suddenly decided that everything I attempted to draw must look exactly like my reference, and if it didn’t, it felt like the end of the world. At first, my perfectionism was centered around how the final product looked, but as I’ve gotten older, I realize that self-frustration gradually transformed into something deeper: a tendency to criticize myself while I was still in the process of learning. I often treated mistakes as evidence that I wasn’t capable enough, rather than seeing them as part of growth.

However, both at Studio and on my own, I’ve begun to recognize that perfection is truly a made up thing. In reality, everything would be dull if nothing were flawed. Uniqueness is beauty in itself, like how the qualities of one person differ from another. Learning to let go of perfection and to embrace imperfection instead can be compared to the process of change and growth. Life is messy. There are things that you can’t control, and you rarely know how something is going to happen until it happens. I am beginning to understand that growth really happens when you allow yourself the time and space to change and let yourself be who you are, instead of being weighed down by made-up thoughts like … If I’m not good at something like art, then am I not good at anything at all? These are just thoughts.

Studio has enhanced my belief that anything is possible. The experiences and relationships I’ve made here have helped me see and understand that. People, languages, stories, art, theater, and even insects all have layers worth understanding and looking at, just as my own inner workings and emotions do. As I said before, there is always an inside and an outside to everything, and part of my inside was getting in the way of my ability to really be ME. And it is my curiosity that has, and will always, move me forward. Gracias.

Zarah will be attending Grace Church High School in the fall.

On behalf of the graduate parents, I want to say how deeply grateful we are to the Studio School for the remarkable gift you have given our children.

Over these years, you have done far more than educate them. You have helped them develop a strong sense of self, encouraged them to think creatively, taught them to advocate for themselves and others, and nurtured the social-emotional balance that will guide them throughout their lives.

The Studio School has shown our children that success is not measured only by what they know, but by who they are. They leave here not only book-smart, but equipped with practical wisdom, empathy, resilience, and a genuine confidence to step into the world with curiosity in one hand and belief in their own capabilities in the other.

The community you have built is truly extraordinary. Our children have spent their time here surrounded by teachers who know them deeply, families who support one another, and peers who challenge and celebrate each other. That sense of belonging is a foundation they will carry with them wherever they go.

As a small token of our gratitude, the graduating families have chosen this year to direct the Graduate Parent Fund donation toward the library fundraising effort. It feels especially meaningful to support a space that nurtures curiosity, imagination, learning, and discovery—values that are at the heart of a Studio education. We invite and encourage members of the Studio community to join us in supporting this important project and helping ensure that future generations of students continue to benefit from a vibrant and inspiring library.

To the faculty and staff: thank you for believing in our children, often before they fully believed in themselves. Thank you for helping them discover their voices, their strengths, and their place in the world.

And to our graduates: we are so proud of the thoughtful, capable, compassionate young people you have become. Carry forward your curiosity, your courage, your creativity, and your commitment to others. The world needs exactly what you have to offer.

Congratulations, Class of 2026, and thank you, Studio School.