Period: Graduation at the International School of Luxembourg, June 20253 min readPublished:
A Graduation Speech Made Entirely of Things That Went Wrong
At the International School of Luxembourg’s graduation in June 2025, one graduate thanked the school by listing every class trip disaster, in order, ending with a twenty-five-kilometre hike.
Graduation speeches usually look forward. At the International School of Luxembourg in June 2025, one graduate looked back, year by year, and catalogued the disasters.
She had been at the school since grade one. She began by thanking the staff for their patience, which got a laugh from the staff. Then she went through the class trips.
A muffin that exploded in a microwave.
A campsite where they had to cook their own food, which was presented to the hall as an injustice.
A guide who promised a short walk and delivered three hours of one.
And then grade nine: a twenty-five-kilometre hike in the north of Luxembourg. Her group set off first and arrived last. In between, across something close to twelve hours, they became convinced that they would never find the camp. There was discussion of wolves. Someone predicted that they would starve before reaching the tents.
She would never do it again, she said, and she was glad she had, which is the most honest review of a school trip I have heard. The people who were lost with her were the friends she still had.
I recognise this speech because I have heard its rough draft in my own car. Every school trip any of my children has ever been on has been reported to me, on the way home, as a single word: fine. The eldest came back from a residential in the Ardennes, said “fine”, ate two dinners and slept for fourteen hours. Three years later, at a family lunch, he mentioned in passing that his group had spent a night “sort of near” the campsite and that a farmer had been involved.
My husband asked what kind of farmer. The eldest said “a nice one” and went back to his chicken. That is all we will ever know.
The Luxembourg graduate’s speech suggests the full account exists. It is simply released on a delay of several years, at a ceremony, in front of the teachers, when no one can be sent back.
The middle one is in grade nine now. Her hike is in May. I have bought her new boots, a map, a compass and a whistle, and I have asked her to text when she gets to the camp.
She says she will tell me at her graduation.
About this story: the scenes and dialogue are imagined or freely retold. Facts about the schools mentioned come from published sources, which our school profiles cite.