Congratulations to our local graduating classes and a special recognition to Valedictorians and Salutatorians.
Aptos High School
Valedictorians
Carem Nga Ho • Malia Nacht
Salutatorians
Diego Maria • Xena Sterner
Pajaro Valley High School
Valedictorian
Steve Martinez
Salutatorian
Monique Ayala
Mount Madonna School
Valedictorian
Rosemary Konviser
Salutatorian
Lucy Yen
Watsonville High
Valedictorian
Azucena M. Sandoval
Salutatorian
Alondra Rivera-Munoz
•••
Malia Nacht
When we enrolled four years ago, people asked us who we wanted to become — as if our lives could be measured by a profession or by our success. Standing here, I think we have been asked the wrong question.
Malia Nacht
It shouldn’t be, “Who do you want to become?” Rather, it should be, “What kind of life do you wish to lead?”
I am Malia Nacht, and I am honored to be one of the valedictorians for the Class of 2026.
I know this title is just a fraction of who I am — and who all of us are.
Sure, I’ve built a transcript I am proud of, but I’ve also learned that identity is less tied to performance than to what you choose to love.
There is a difference between being admired and being fulfilled.
As Anna Quindlen said in her commencement speech at Villanova University: “Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Each time you look at your diploma, remember that you are still a student, still learning how to best treasure your connection to others. And realize that life is the best thing ever, and that you have no business taking it for granted. Care so deeply about its goodness that you want to spread it around.”
That is what makes a life meaningful: not just what you achieve, but what you remain open to. The ability to wonder. The ability to be moved by something small and ordinary. To stay curious about the world, about other people and about the lives we have yet to live.
I believe every person is a quilt — a lived collection of everyone they’ve ever loved and everyone who’s ever loved them. We are stitched together by the love our families, friends and teachers poured into us. We may be growing up, but we will never outgrow the people who loved us before anyone knew who we would become.
Gracias a nuestros papás, ustedes son la inspiración para todo. Su sacrificio es el amor en su forma más pura: elegir nuestra felicidad por encima de la suya cada vez.
Thank you to our parents, whose sacrifices shaped every opportunity we’ve had — and especially to my mom. All I’ve ever wanted was to grow up and be just like you.
Now, together, we hold each other in this grief as we let this version of ourselves go. We aren’t shedding this part of ourselves because it is flawed, but simply because it has outlived its purpose. We do this so there is room for the next version to exist.
Today, I say my final goodbye, the same way so many before me have and so many after me will. At this moment, the person you know me as is just a fragment of the person I will become. We know each other only in the context of our time in this place — and soon, that context will end.
There are so many versions of us still to come: versions that fall down, versions that fall in love, versions that leave and versions that return home changed, yet the same. Maybe that’s the beautiful thing about growing up — we are still becoming while carrying with us all we have ever been.
Because isn’t it special that, out of all the places we could have been and all the people we could have become, we got to share this version of ourselves with each other?
•••
Carem Nga Ho
Carem Nga Ho’s speech has been edited for length
Good evening, everyone. My name is Carem Nga Ho.
Before I start, I want to give a shoutout to some very special teachers and administrators who are also graduating with us this year — in other words, retiring.
Carem Nga Ho
There are more than 20 staff members we’ll miss in the fall, but I especially want to recognize those who have supported me during my time here at Aptos: Ms. Barrick, Mr. Pepperdine, Mrs. Machado, Mr. Mason, Ms. Barrett and our librarian, Cheryl. Please give them a hand.
When I opened Google Docs to draft this speech that was supposed to convey my one profound takeaway from these past 13 years, I asked myself: What actually mattered? Sure, there were many pivotal events — forest fires, global lockdowns, social justice movements and whatever senior prank day was — but what am I going to think about five or 10 years from today?
I’ve only been a student at Aptos High for two years, but I’m no stranger to this community. From Valencia to Linscott to Aptos Junior to Pacific Collegiate, and finally Aptos High, I’ve had the privilege of crossing paths with a large portion of this graduating class. Yes, I do laugh at old yearbook photos from back when we all had side parts.
Before I came here, taking five or six Advanced Placement classes per year was the expectation at my old school. Everyone wanted to be the best. I’ve always strived to be a good student, but over time, I realized that this constant competition was eroding my relationships. In an effort to get ahead, our interactions became transactional. We didn’t connect.
I didn’t realize how much I needed other people until I got to Aptos High. In two short years, both new and rekindled friendships have expanded my perspective so much more than an honors class ever could — no offense, teachers. The people I met here changed me. They taught me to give more grace to others, to be grateful for the life I’ve been given and to be confident in my own voice, even though it’s a little shaky right now.
That’s what a community can do for you. Wherever you’re bound for the next few years, it’s the people who support you who will make or break the experience.
Look around you at this navy sea of caps and gowns. Some of these people you’ve known for a few months and others for your whole life. Our time together is finally coming to an end. No more hanging out in the parking lot during lunch. No more breakfast bagels in the quad or crashing out together over an economics grade. But some things last long after we’ve parted ways.
Our time together as a senior class will not be remembered by GPAs or Instagram followers, wins or losses. It will be remembered by your relationships — the kind of person you were to others. We’re graduating today with bigger brains and shiny new diplomas, but don’t start taking yourself too seriously. Whether you’re staying in town or moving across the world for college, keep your Day 1s close, reach out to your old teachers and, to quote Phoebe Bridgers, “Anyway, don’t be a stranger.”
In a time when our communities are being torn apart by the very institutions that claim to protect us, we cannot forget that fundamentally every one of us is far more alike than we are different.
To my extraordinary parents, mentors and friends of these last 13 years: Thank you for your endless love and support. You believed in me even when I didn’t, which was pretty much all the time. I wouldn’t be standing here without you.
Finally, I want to give a big congratulations to everyone for making it here today. It’s been an honor to grow up and graduate with you, and I wish you all the very best.
Go Mariners.