Hold on Class of 2026

Rebecca Huddilston, Lakota East High School Choral/Vocal Director

As I begin my 40th year in music education, May 21, 2026, might have seemed like just another graduation night—but it never truly is. Saying goodbye to a class is never easy. Each year, it feels like releasing a piece of your heart, a part of your life’s work—students who once walked through the doors as uncertain freshmen and now leave as confident young adults, ready to chase whatever lies ahead of them.

Moments like these always bring me back to the same quiet questions I carry with me: Have I done enough? Have I shared music in a way that will stay with them long after this night? Will they carry a love of music with them—or at the very least, an appreciation for how it can shape, heal, and inspire a life? Will the connections we make between music, and their own stories truly stay with them? And in a lighter moment of honesty—have I had enough coffee to make it through the emotions of the evening?

So, when my superintendent, Dr. Ashley Whitely, emailed to ask what choral piece my seniors had connected with this year, my heart already knew the answer. The music of Moses Hogan has always held a special place in my teaching. Within his work, I’ve found lessons that go far beyond notes and rhythms—lessons of perseverance, resilience, strength, and grace. These are the very things I hope my students carry into their lives. And somehow, year after year, his music resonates deeply with my “Singing Thunderhawks.” It speaks to them in ways that are hard to put into words. Hogan has become more than a composer to us—he’s part of our shared experience. When students ask for music, his name is always among the first they mention. My answer to her was simple but filled with meaning: Hold On.

I have always felt fortunate to open my classroom to my superintendent, welcoming her in no matter what we were working on that day. Her presence brought a special kind of energy—an extra spark of pride for my students, knowing someone else was there to hear their voices. But it wasn’t until her “Class of 2026 Farewell Speech” that evening that I truly understood how deeply she saw and understood what we were doing in that room.

In that moment, I realized something profoundly moving: the music, the lessons, the connections—they had not only reached my students but had been felt and recognized beyond the walls of my classroom. And that realization, on a night already full of endings, felt like one of the most meaningful affirmations of all.

This is that speech to the Class of 2026 encouraging them to “Hold On”. My wish for all is to have administrators that “Get it”!