Baselt High Principal Compares Class of 2026 to River Rocks

The wind off the Roaring Fork River carries a chill that no amount of wool can quite mask, but on the athletic field at Basalt High School, the temperature was secondary to the moment. Nearly 100 seniors stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their caps and gowns fluttering in the gusts, waiting for the rain to hold its breath just long enough for a two-hour ceremony to conclude.

It was a stark contrast to the usual summer heat locals expect by late May, but the weather held off just in time. The graduates didn’t need rain jackets. They needed to remember who they were and who they’ve become.

Principal Megan Hartmann didn’t mince words when she took the stage. She bypassed the typical corporate-style praise for a metaphor rooted in local geography and her grandfather’s hobby. She compared the class of 2026 to river rocks.

“Have you ever looked down at the edge of the Roaring Fork River on a sunny morning and been amazed by the beauty of all the different rocks that you see? The different colors, shapes, textures, sparkling underneath the water surface,” Hartmann said. “To me, that is what it is like to look out at the class of 2026.”

She wasn’t just being poetic. She was addressing the collective identity of a student body that has navigated the post-pandemic educational landscape together. Hartmann noted that while each student is unique, the group possesses a specific synergy.

“Every one of them unique and spectacular in their own right. And yet, as a group, they are able to play off each other’s strengths in a way that takes your breath away. … Despite these imperfections, it’s beautiful. And with a little hard work and elbow grease, it can be turned into a work of art,” she said.

The ceremony itself was a mix of high-stakes emotion and lighthearted relief. Head students Hector Corrales and Margaret Fitzgerald delivered speeches that required them to wipe away tears more than once. But it was Towler Scott, the salutatorian, who offered a moment of levity that resonated with the crowd.

“This speech was written without the help of ChatGPT. So, if this sounds different from my writing over the past year, sorry,” Scott joked, nodding toward his English teacher.

Scott’s speech drifted away from academic rigor and toward the human moments that actually define a high school experience. He talked about joking around in the commons and playing a game of 21 during a free period. It was a reminder that for these students, the diploma is a milestone, but the memories are the substance.

Dominic Roman, the Dean of Culture and a former social studies and ESL teacher, took the podium to address the concept of community. He didn’t just speak in generalities; he cited specific stories that only people who have walked these halls would recognize. He acknowledged that not every name was mentioned, not because the students didn’t matter, but because there simply wasn’t enough time in the afternoon to tell every story.

“The truth is, every one of you has left your mark on this school. And that is what I hope you take with you,” Roman said.

The scale of the class speaks for itself. Nearly 100 students is a significant cohort for Basalt High, representing a full cycle of the class that entered as freshmen just four years ago. They’ve grown up in a town that is itself changing, with new housing developments rising and the local economy shifting. But on this field, the external pressures were suspended.

The ceremony concluded with hugs, handshakes, and the rustle of diplomas being folded into protective sleeves. The rain had finally started to fall in earnest as the crowd dispersed, washing over the field and the river beyond. The students left with their credentials in hand, but also with the kind of shared history that only a community can provide.

As Hartmann put it, they are ready to be turned into art.