It has been my honor. I wish you luck in the future.”

Principal Scott Doran

June 5, 2026, Hastings High School’s Class of 2026 crossed the graduation stage Friday night in a setting that was not the one many had pictured, but one that still carried the full weight of a long-standing community tradition.
The ceremony, usually held at Todd Field to make room for as many family members, friends, and supporters as possible, was moved indoors to Hastings High School because of a forecast that called for rain and the possibility of lightning throughout the afternoon and evening. School officials said the move was made to protect the quality of the event, including the sound system, HCTV streaming services, band instruments, and guests.
The high school opened to guests at 5:30 p.m., with both main entrances available and no tickets required. Elevator access was offered as needed, and overflow seating was set up in the auditorium, where graduates staged before the ceremony. The seats there became available shortly before the program began.
By 7 p.m., the change of venue had become just one more detail in a night filled with applause, speeches, academic recognition, music, laughter, a few tears, and the familiar emotion of a class reaching the end of one chapter before stepping into the next.
Principal Scott Doran welcomed families, friends, faculty, district leaders, and graduates to what he called the 156th graduating class of Hastings High School, the Class of 2026. He later told the seniors, “It has been my honor. I wish you luck in the future.”
The ceremony opened with student speaker Lucia Haynes, who invited the crowd to look around at the students seated before them.
“They are scholars, athletes, artists, musicians, leaders, workers, volunteers, and friends,” Haynes said, before asking the audience to join her in celebrating the senior class.
Haynes centered her remarks on Hastings as a river town, a place shaped by edges, crossings, and change. She spoke of the Mississippi and St. Croix rivers, of Friday nights under the lights at Todd Field, Saturday mornings at Perkins, and the sound of tires crossing the bridge as a sign of home.
“We are standing at a confluence in history,” Haynes said. “It’s where two rivers meet in life. It’s where your past meets your future, and there’s no better place to learn that than right here in Hastings.”
Her speech used the image of the old spiral bridge as a guide for life after graduation. Success, she said, is often described as a ladder, but life is rarely that straight or simple.
“Life rarely moves in a straight line,” Haynes said. “Many of you have been told that success is a ladder, you climb one rung, then the next, and eventually you're at the top, but I want to suggest that life is more like that old spiral bridge.”
Her “Rivertown advice” for classmates came in three parts. She told them not to simply go with the flow, to respect the undertow, and to be a bridge for someone else.
“The world is increasingly divided,” Haynes said. “Be the person who connects people, be the person who allows others to get from a place of struggle to a place of hope.”
Haynes, the daughter of Don and Brian Haynes, was introduced by Doran as a student involved in theater, the writing center, youth ambassadors, pep band, jazz band, marching band, National Honor Society, and art club. He said her activities reflected creativity, leadership, service, and a strong commitment to her school community.
After graduation, Haynes plans to attend Texas A and M University to study neuroscience and forensics, with the goal of becoming a criminal profiler. She also gave a special shout out to her dad, Brian, for the early mornings, many hours spent driving her to activities and events, and his steady support.
The high school band, under the direction of Jim Jacobson, performed the national anthem. Doran also took time to recognize retiring staff members, noting that eight retirees represented a combined 238 years of teaching and related services, about 2,300 classes taught, and more than 70,000 combined student service contacts.
The retirees included business teachers Collin Anderson and Brian Schmitz, and physical education and health teacher Pam Dombeck, who were not able to attend. Those present and recognized were Rochelle Nielsen, Lauren Zabel, Amy Mares, Christy Baum, and Melissa Schill.
Doran said graduation was not only a milestone for students, but in a way, also a graduation for those staff members.
The evening also included formal academic recognition from Superintendent Dr. Kristine Wehrkamp Herman, who congratulated students for honors distinctions earned through four years at Hastings High School.
Graduates with honors distinction, earned with a cumulative GPA of 3.867 or higher over four years, were Landon Amer, Axton Bauer, Ashlyn Bernt, Ryder Groth, Dane Kelly, Claire Koenigs, Landon Miska, Zoe O’Donnell, Lillyan Schweich, and Nicholas Smelser.
Graduates with high honors distinction, earned with a cumulative GPA of 3.935 or higher over four years, were Ashton Arnes, Dakota Bauer, Josephine Bauer, William Bauer, Kaitlyn Boyd, Piper Brockman, Ella Carlson, Lilah Gessner, Kayleigh Giesen, Brooklyn Keller, Kimberly King, Lydia Latch, Emma Leonard, Elli Levine, Isabella Mancl, Kolton McGrath, Haylee Newton, Mattea Quigley, William Savage, Sara Siebenaler, Sophie Thorkelson, Jenavieve Urbach, Katherine Vieth, and Matthew Wegener.
Graduates with highest honors distinction, earned with a 4.0 GPA over four years, were Ryder Ashcraft, Elisa Endres, Lucia Haynes, Serena Irrthum, Catherine Jahnz, Baily Jansen, Reese Keller, Lydia Kieffer, Natalie Knutson, Elliana Magnus, Addison Maniak, Matthew Maulucci, Isabella McClellan, Fiona Myers, Gabriel Peterson, Linnea Ronning, Violet Schult, Olivia Schuster, Sebastian Strauss, and Taylor Wahlstrom.
Students named to the top 10 percent of the class were Ryder Ashcraft, Dakota Bauer, Josephine Bauer, William Bauer, Kaitlyn Boyd, Piper Brockman, Ella Carlson, Elisa Endres, Lilah Gessner, Lucia Haynes, Serena Irrthum, Catherine Jahnz, Baily Jansen, Reese Keller, Lydia Kieffer, Natalie Knutson, Lydia Latch, Emma Leonard, Elliana Magnus, Addison Maniak, Matthew Maulucci, Isabella McClellan, Kolton McGrath, Fiona Myers, Gabriel Peterson, Linnea Ronning, Violet Schult, Olivia Schuster, Sara Siebenaler, Sebastian Strauss, Sophie Thorkelson, Jenavieve Urbach, and Taylor Wahlstrom.
Their accomplishments drew applause as students stood in groups to be recognized.
“On behalf of Hastings Public Schools and our entire community, congratulations,” Wehrkamp Herman said. “We are proud of your hard work, your dedication, and all that you have achieved.”
Doran then asked seniors who had chosen to join the armed forces to stand. He asked them to turn and face the crowd, then invited audience members who had served or were currently serving to rise as well. This particular moment is quite moving as it brings the focus briefly from the stage to the larger community, where graduates and veterans shared a round of recognition.
The senior class chose teacher Josh Colvin to speak, and he began with a selfie, a light moment that matched the tone of his remarks. Colvin said he was honored, and a little surprised, to be selected.
“I don't know how many of you voted for that, but thank you so much,” he said. “I am honored, and a little surprised that you guys voted for me, but I appreciate it.”
Colvin said writing the speech had been difficult because he wanted to talk about all 351 students, and because Doran had a stopwatch behind him. He joked that he was not known for being brief, then spoke about the many roles students had played in his life, as classmates of his children, neighbors, athletes, students, and even, on Thursdays, his “donut delivery service from FCA.”
He told graduates that many people would ask them what they planned to do, where they planned to go, and what they planned to become. That pressure, he said, can feel overwhelming.
“What are you going to do? What are you going to be? Where are you going to go?” Colvin said. “And that can feel incredibly, incredibly pressure-filled to have the right answer.”
But he urged students not to believe every decision had to be permanent. Plans can shift, he said, and life can move in more than one direction.
“In six months from now, if you're sitting in your dorm room and you went to college and you realize you want to be a fireman, cool,” Colvin said. “If you're sitting here working a trade in six months and you want to go to school and become an accountant, cool.”
Colvin said students should be proud of their test scores, class ranks, GPAs, and accomplishments, but they should not be reduced to them.
“You are so, so much more than that,” he said.
His speech moved from economics, which he called his passion, to psychology, where he said he gets to know students as people, including their thoughts, fears, dreams, stresses, and anxieties. He reflected on a documentary about infinity that he had watched with his friend and fellow teacher Bill Ruder, and the feeling that life can seem small when seen against the size of the universe.
Then, he said, the documentary’s mathematician fell in love, and that mattered.
Colvin connected that thought to “The Bridge,” a student-produced show created by students who stay up late on Tuesdays and Fridays to tell stories from the school community. The work, he said, matters because it connects people to those they care about.
“The point of that show is very simple, and it's the point of today, which is to connect us to the people we love,” Colvin said.
Looking across the graduating class, Colvin said students were the reason he came to school, attended games, show choir, marching band, practices, and other events. He said what mattered most was not their career, awards, successes, or failures.
“Simply you as a human being, you matter,” he said. “And while you will leave here today as graduates, you. Always be connected to each other to this time and this place, and honestly, hopefully in some small way to me, because I will truly remember so many of you for the rest of my life, and that matters.”
After Colvin’s speech, Doran welcomed the final student speaker, Rhea Peine. He said Peine had been involved in show choir, lacrosse, link crew, the writing center as a coach, National Honor Society, Spanish Honor Society, and girls soccer as a manager. Her involvement, he said, reflected dedication across academics, athletics, leadership, and service.
Peine plans to attend the University of Minnesota Twin Cities to study journalism, with the goal of becoming a sports broadcaster. She thanked her friends for helping her through challenges, and her family, especially her brother, for making her laugh and brightening her day.
Peine began by noting that she had been part of ISD 200 for all 13 years of her education. She said she had always assumed leaving a place after that long would feel bigger and louder, maybe with dramatic music, time slowing down, or even a flashing sign to announce that life was changing.
“But that is not what happened,” Peine said. “Most change happens to be much quieter than that.”
She described four years of walking through the same hallways, sitting in the same classrooms, and following routines that once felt permanent. She recalled Friday nights packed into the student section, trying not to think about how cold it was, and students lingering after events because no one really wanted to go home.
At the time, she said, those moments did not seem important. Later, they become the memories students realize they will miss.
“It's probably the most impactful part of growing up,” Peine said. “It silently changes us to the point where, when we look at our freshman year selves, we hardly recognize them as somebody that we once were.”
Peine spoke about how quickly ordinary school routines become final. A paper chain gets shorter. A countdown reaches single digits. Then, she said, students wake up to June 5, 2026, and graduation day has arrived.
“Suddenly, everything does feel a whole lot different,” she said.
Her remarks balanced humor with the quiet ache of ending. She mentioned classes students once complained about, familiar hallways, and the realization that many classmates may never all sit together again.
“How can something that once felt endless suddenly be done?” Peine asked. “Over with, how can each day feel like it drags on until you look back and four years have passed.”
She said the class had survived first days, awkward link leader games, challenging classes, changes, setbacks, and moments when things went sideways.
“And yet every time our minds thought I don't know if I can do this, it was wrong, because we did over and over again, we did,” Peine said.
She told classmates they did not need to have perfect 10-year plans. What mattered more, she said, was knowing they were capable of figuring things out.
Peine also offered a reminder that the version of Hastings the class knew would now live in memory. The hallways and classrooms would remain, and the fire alarm, she joked, would probably keep going off too many times. But the exact version of Hastings shaped by the Class of 2026 existed because they experienced it together.
“Tonight is not the end of the best years of our lives,” Peine said. “It's the beginning of the years we can't even comprehend yet, years filled with new places, new people, new versions of ourselves.”
She encouraged classmates to take pictures, celebrate, tell people they loved them, and cry if they needed to.
“Some of the most meaningful moments of our lives probably won't announce themselves when they arrive, so don't rush through the ordinary moments,” Peine said. “One day you will realize that they were extraordinary.”
After the speeches, Doran called the seniors to attention for the formal presentation of the class. He asked Board Chair Carrie Tate to join him, along with Superintendent Wehrkamp Herman and members of the Board of Education.
“The class of 2026 has met the requirements that have been set forth by you and the state of Minnesota,” Doran said.
Tate then addressed the graduates, offering congratulations and a reminder from someone who had also graduated from Hastings High School.
“It feels like yesterday that I graduated from Hastings High School, yet somehow 30 years have passed in what feels like a blink of an eye,” Tate said. “I know I'm really old, I graduated in the 1900s.”
She told graduates that life moves faster than they think, and that success should not be measured only by titles, grades, or paychecks.
“It's measured by how you treat the people around you,” Tate said. “Be the person who shows up when someone needs help, be the person who keeps their word, be the person others can trust, and make time for those who matter.”
She accepted the recommendation and confirmation that the students had met all requirements to receive their diplomas.
“Congratulations, graduates!” Tate said. “Go make your marks on the world, chase your dreams, and remember, once a Raider, always a Raider.”
With that, Doran called staff members forward to guide the student procession, and the long-awaited diploma portion of the night began. The ceremony that had been moved indoors because of rain concerns still delivered the familiar rhythm of graduation, the names, the applause, the careful walk across the stage, the photos, and the mix of relief and disbelief that comes when years of school become a completed sentence.
It was not the outdoor evening at Todd Field that many may have imagined. But the Class of 2026 still had its moment, inside the high school that had shaped so much of what Peine called “our Hastings.”
The river was moving, as Haynes said. The bridge was open. And for 351 graduates, the next crossing had begun.