Legacy in Stone: A Chapel Ceremony and a Student’s Goodbye

Every spring, our seniors gather at the Outdoor Chapel for the Stones Chapel. At this service, seniors are invited to place a decorated stone along a rock wall, slowly building the wall and representing the enduring legacy of Holderness graduates. Seniors are also encouraged to speak and reflect on their Holderness experience.  

A handful of seniors took time to share meaningful Holderness moments, advice for students who will still call Holderness home in the Fall, and many thanks to faculty, coaches, and fellow students. One of those students, Trace Schroeder '25, succinctly and so eloquently captured what it means to experience Holderness School.

 

Dear Holderness,

While I will try to formulate into words what you have meant to me, words will never describe this feeling as I prepare to depart from this chapter of my life. The past three years, you have given me a home, a family, and the opportunity to explore my passions and interests. Truly, what I think is so special about this place is that it gives you the space to make mistakes, challenge yourself, find your identity, and grow as an individual. And, of course, the special community we share.

To my peers and anyone who has the opportunity to be a part of this place: slow down, enjoy the small moments—walking to dinner with friends, quiet Sundays, the awkward in-between moments before chapel begins, waiting in line to get luch—because as you near the end, you wish to get these moments back. Our opening quote read, “The air I inhale enters my body and becomes a part of me. The air that I exhale moves into someone else and becomes part of her.”

We breathe the same air as the generations who came before us—those who built this community, laughed and cried and grew here just like we do.

We are breathing each other in.
Our breath gives life to those around us.
This is the quiet miracle of this community.
This is what Holderness has taught me.

Here, I’ve learned how to listen. How to say “thank you” and actually mean it. I’ve learned that showing up for people matters, even if it’s just sitting beside them while they cry or walking across campus to offer a helping hand without being asked. I’ve learned that strength doesn’t always reflect having it all together—sometimes, it’s just being honest when you don’t.

To the underclassmen: don’t be in such a hurry to grow up here. Your time will come. And when it does, you’ll be surprised by how bittersweet it feels. Say yes to more things. Try out for something unexpected. Talk to someone you’ve never had a class with. Go to the game. Sit with the awkwardness. Build relationships with the kitchen, housekeeping, and B&G crew. Laugh hard, cry when you need to, and keep showing up.

To my teachers and the adults in this community: thank you. For believing in me when I didn’t, for pushing me, for holding me to a higher standard—not just in academics, but in kindness, in integrity, in character. You’ve helped shape the kind of person I want to be.

I don’t know what lies ahead in the next chapter, but I do know this: I’m carrying Holderness with me. In my lungs, in my bones, in the way I greet the world—with curiosity, compassion, and courage.

So thank you, Holderness.
Thank you for being my home.
Thank you for making me, me.

With all my heart,

Trace