Address to the Class of 2025 by Ryan Grondin ’25

Ryan Grondin ’25 was selected by his classmates to speak on behalf of the Class of 2025 during today's 108th Graduation Exercises at the Church of St. Ignatius Loyola. You can read Grondin's remarks, as prepared for delivery, below.

What an amazing four years. Thank you to all of the faculty and staff, Mr. DiNovi, the Board of Trustees, Fr. Devron, Mr. Heintz, Mr. Mariano, Ms. Chua, Mr. Robinson, and everyone who put together this wonderful celebration. Thank you to my amazing parents, my siblings Jack, Lyla, and Ella. And thank you to all of you for inviting me to come up here. It is perhaps the greatest honor of my life to have been selected to speak today. On our first day of school four years ago, we had the Mass of the Holy Spirit right here in St. Ignatius Church. I remember feeling overwhelmed and asking God to help me find love at Regis. And now it is all that I can see.

My mom likes to say that Regis can only be understood by the people who are a part of it. Nobody has ever heard of tchoukball. Most Deans of Students did not play semi-pro basketball. And most English teachers wear socks!

But Regis is special. Every person, every class, every day is a reminder of that. Regis asked us for four years of intense commitment. It asked that we make 85th Street our home. It asked us to memorize the entirety of the New Testament for one Scac test. It asked us to brave an average daily commute of over an hour each way.

But when Regis asks, the students answer. Because our home is defined by the people who make it what it is. Because we all lift each other up. Because we all had Ayan, who made 405 study guides over the past four years. I know that because I made him count them. Because we had theology teachers who shot Nerf guns at one another in the TRC. Because I had Michael Petrides with me as we grew old together awaiting N.J. Transit trains that were never going to arrive. Regis became our home. I asked God to help me find love. And now, it’s the cornerstone of this home we’ve built as brothers.

We have all had our run-ins with the monster that is Regis English. For me, I was drowning early on. In freshman year, I was kindly directed to the Peer Writing Center by Ms. Moriarty while writing the “Parable of the Sower” essay. I plopped my computer down next to John Bianco’s older brother Nick, and he slowly scrolled through the essay. He then gave me the Bianco equivalent of an “Oh honey.” It was bad. However, he then sat with me and helped me rework the entire essay. All he wanted was for me to succeed. And that is what it means to love at Regis. Yes, we are a class of gifted students who are oriented toward success. But the asterisk is that we are oriented toward success together. Our love for one another drives us to cheer for collective success. Colm did not need to teach all of 3A physics. Leo is not paid by the ERC to edit English essays. Vincent and Liam Bergerson were not obligated to explain integration. But here we are. After way too many last minute resource center cram sessions and late night reviews that devolve into Clash Royale tournaments, we have succeeded. Together. A lot of schools are full of talent. Regis has mastered the art of encouraging that talent to beget more talent.

That was true for me in debate. Peter Grande patiently taught me the ins and outs of debate in freshman year, and we became successful together. It also is certainly true for Regis athletics. While my athletic skills begin and end at Spikeball, we are all still encouraged to be a part of the culture by cheering on our teams. I’m proud to say the Nest is the best fan section in the tri-state area. We love each other so much that when we cheer we threaten the structural integrity of entire sets of bleachers. We were given the gift of watching Regis win the basketball city championship last year. The game at Fordham was one of the most electric environments of my life, especially when Charlie Mango yelled that there was “one minute left for the rest of our lives.” I was so pumped I wanted to run through a wall.

That is kind of what this has been, right? Four years for the rest of our lives. Four years of getting Egyptian Ratscrew banned in the Quad. Four years of arguing about geopolitics in the Hearn room as Coach shares a story about getting stopped at the Syrian border. Four years of hearing about Lionel’s trip to a small country in the Middle East. Four years of learning what it means to craft a thesis. Four years of getting kicked out of Panera for playing poker. Four years of linking arms and spontaneously singing the alma mater together. Four years of arguing with Dr. Toomb about the length of her reading assignments. Four years of yelling “THREE” with Coach Cullen, “Andiamo” with Dr. Cascapera, and the South African national anthem with Ms. Christie. Four years of playing soccer with Mr. Mariano on the Spanish exchange trip. Four years of David’s cookies with Chef Moses. Four years of hearing the Latin kids chant incantations. Four years of hearing about how impossible it will always be to fit two pounds of baloney in a one pound bag. Nothing about this experience will fit together neatly in a bag or a box. It is not a stage of life that will gather dust as we begin the next chapter. No. Instead, it is an incredible gift that has permeated every aspect of our lives. Four years of becoming a brotherhood, of turning young boys into men for others

This gift is what is going to allow us to change the world. I believe that emotional intelligence is becoming the currency of leadership. We have certainly been given the abilities to think critically, write effectively, and solve problems. But we have also been given the advantage of learning what it means to incorporate compassion into our lives. There are many brilliant people. There are fewer who can take that brilliance and integrate it with love. Love that our world so desperately needs.

When I think about leaving Regis and beginning a new chapter, I get emotional. I struggle to let go. As I said, we have spent four years making this place our home. And I think the hardest part is knowing that I probably will never be able to work with people who are all so uniquely brilliant, devoted, and kind. But that's the point. We stay together, as the Regis Class of 2025, forever. When life gets hard, let's continue to show up for one another and say, I love you. I believe that God gave us the gift to allow love to shape our souls. And my soul is a mosaic of every single one of you.

Thank you.