As we enter the last quarter of the 2025-2026 academic year at Alexandria City High School, and the last quarter ever for the Class of 2026, I want to take this as an opportunity to talk to my community. I find myself thinking about how much has changed. I remember wandering through the halls during my Freshman year, feeling lost. Now, four years later, these same hallways feel familiar, strangely comforting, and full of memories I didn’t even know I was making at the time.
Change is constant everywhere, particularly at ACHS. We’ve seen changes in leadership almost every year. Principals, assistant principals, teachers—and now even our Superintendent—are moving on. Whether they were good or bad, competent or not, each person brought their own vision, and each left something behind for us to carry forward. We are no strangers to change; the Class of 2026, like others, carries a story marked by moments the world could not have predicted. We were in 6th grade when COVID-19 hit, interrupting our childhoods. I remember staring at my first zoom class, wondering if this was what school was going to be like forever. Yet, through all the uncertainty, we adapted. We persevered. Despite our distances, some classes managed to connect with each other. That gave me hope.
Our experiences at ACHS have shaped who we are. I love our school for its diversity and the way every student has a perspective to share—a perspective that they can share. I will miss its teachers, who have made this school feel more than a place to learn math and history. They have taught me curiosity, empathy, and courage. Our school has its faults, but one thing is for sure: the teachers are not part of the problem. Almost every teacher I’ve encountered truly grasps the idea that education is more than just answers, it is about growth, both inside and outside of the classroom. Everyday, I was impacted by them.
As the year comes to an end, and we approach our final days here, saying goodbye feels heavy. I hope everybody understands we aren’t just leaving a building, we’re also leaving the people who have shaped our mornings and afternoons, the friendships we formed, the memories that became a part of us. It’s saying goodbye to a community that has been a teacher of its own, with lessons we will carry long after we walk the stage.
But despite the sadness, there is also gratitude. We stand proudly on the shoulders of those who came before us, those who built and nurtured this school into what it is today. Their dedication made it possible for us to arrive at this moment. To them, we owe our thanks.
And to the underclassmen: know that this school is alive with possibilities. Explore them. Find your passions and embrace your challenges. I know you will discover more about yourself than you ever imagined. ACHS will test you and, yes, it will absolutely frustrate you. But, at the end of the day, it will prepare you. That is something I’ve grown to realize.
You might be thinking: “why now? We still have 3 months to go,” but I want the Class of 2026 to learn how to say “goodbye,” before it becomes hard to. And also because saying it is not a single moment; it is a process of reflection and of readiness for what comes next. We can’t let it catch us by surprise, as that will only make leaving it harder.
As we head towards the next chapter of our lives, let us remember ACHS for its community and its spirit. Let us hope and trust that the story will continue well in the hands of the next generation. As for us, we have done our best.
Yours truly,
Darwin Salazar
