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TCT’s The Countless Thanks 2022: Millie Alt

Carolyn and Andrew Alt—Mama and Papa, the calm to my chaos

Every day I come home stressed, and every day you are there to calm my chaos into something more manageable: mayhem, some may say. I love you more than every second of my life. Thank you for being constant. I’m so grateful that I can say that my parents are good people. I appreciate how rare that is. Our relationship is nearly sacred to me.

Evelyn Alt—Evvy, the Izzy to my Alec

You love books that make you cry, and I love hearing you cry about them. Don’t read too far into the title (they’re the best siblings). Always tell me about your self-destructive reading sprees, no matter where we are. I’ll always have mockery and recommendations just for you. You are my built-in, but we are more than just siblings. I scream at you every other day, but we always come back stronger.

Milo, the one to my three

You haven’t always been older than me. Once you were a puppy, and I was nearly as small, running up the driveway carelessly. You will always be my dog no matter how long you live, but please live long. I don’t care that you’re deaf and a bit dumb. Keep begging, keep whining, keep wandering around. Long live.

The cross country team, the rock to my tree

Each practice is a new crazy adventure with you all, and I couldn’t love it more. From practically demonic rituals to singing Pitch Perfect in an ice bath in 30° weather to waking up early and getting to practice late, you are some of my favorite people on the planet, and if it weren’t for how much I love you all, I would quit running immediately.

The captains—Ethan, Ian, Marissa, Emmy, the function to our dysfunctional

Each of you is a different stereotypical runner, and who better to lead a cross country team full of more stereotypical runners, each in our own way? Thank you for making this season the best by far, for the ice cream and late nights, and for making this team a little bit more of a team.

The sophomore boys—Henry, Jake, Sawyer, Trevor, Jake, Jakob, Ryan, Dylan, the fun to our dysfunctional

I hope you never lead dynamics again. But seriously, you are the future of our team, but you are also the present of our team. Keep up your counting, your core videos, your pre-race rituals. Keep making us laugh.

Emmy Willemin, the drama to my bad luck

I love living vicariously through you. You are my daily dose of serotonin, especially when I am especially unlucky. You understand everything. Your advice is perfect, and you empathize with my bad luck even though you seem to experience the opposite. I must have dropped my four-leaf clover in your pocket. You listen so well, and I try my best to return the favor because every word you say makes me feel.

Kiera Kemppainen, the rainbow to my gray

You are as colorful as your collection of Converse, and I can only hope that it rubs off on me someday. Last year I called you a fire, and that you are. You are brilliant, and everything you touch gains importance. Never stop writing fantastic abortion editorials, and never stop attempting to add a bit of opinion. I’m so glad we haven’t fallen apart. Fly high, Kiera Kemppainen.

Paige Harsevoort, the singing to my dancing

I miss talking to you every day. I wish we had classes together still, and I wish our group still hung out and made helicopter TikToks and went mattress-sledding. I miss you and your crazy energy and your singing along to every song in Grace’s car and your boyfriends with weird names that we have all grown to hate. I miss you.

Lucy Yoder and Jenna Lowell, the peanut and butter to my jelly

I look forward to lunch with you every day. Lucy’s updates on our favorite series, her theories, our questions, all our drama. What happens at the lunch table stays at the lunch table, and sometimes I wish I could too.

Aden Pomeroy, the sushi to my chocolate milk

An odd combination, some might say. But it works, and we know that. I will forever be in awe of your honesty. I hope Target never runs out of face masks and Forest Hills Foods never runs out of California rolls so that I know exactly where to find you.

Jake Barnes, the patient to my needy

I don’t know why you put up with me. Sincerely, I want you to know that I do actually care about you and our friendship even though it may sometimes seem like I only use you for advice. You’re a good therapist, and I am grateful for your quick replies. I once asked why everyone loves you so much, and someone said “you like him too,” and they were right, but I don’t think I like you for the same reasons.

Charlie Afman, the A to my A+

I’ll always be better than you, but you’ll always be first in line. You win some, you lose some, I suppose. You once told me “Harvard isn’t ready for us,” and I agree. You’re a bad influence, and together we are chaos, but I don’t mind. Here’s to more whiteboard poetry.

Charlie Molitor and Cameron Penner, the bass and tenor to my soprano

Neither of you was really a part of my life until this year, but I am so glad that you are. Cam, for your ceaseless energy, whether that be positive or negative, and for the intensity with which you feel. Charlie, for your dry humor and realism, and for your beautiful words.

The FHC band, the orchestra to my composition

You will always have a place for me, and for that, I love you. You are the only group I know that will never judge me, never abandon me. You are loyal to your members and you have given me a second family.

The clarinets, the dysfunctional family to my dysfunctional mind

I would die for you all, and that is not an overstatement. Kendall and Sydney, my mom and my future wife, I will miss you when we no longer walk like ducks in a row to the stadium in sweatshirts and sleep deprivation. I’m so honored to be partially in charge of you all.

My triglyceride trio, the Christmas to my every day

Don’t ever stop teasing me. Keep learning Christmas songs and sniffing at trees and keep being yourselves. You are some of the most alive people I have ever met. And here, just for you, I’ll say it one more time: “smells like Christmas.”

Mr. Labenz and Ms. Beckett, the Dumbledore and McGonagall to my Harry

Two iconic teachers for two iconic teachers. Mr. Labenz, you helped me through APUSH, the most brutal year of my life, and I still loved you after. Ms. Beckett, you are a perfect fit for AP Seminar, and I can’t help but look forward to the rest of this year. Keep shining, and I’m sorry for the whiteboard poetry (it’ll happen again).

My Spanish four class, the adios to my hola

You made Spanish less terrifying on the first day of school and you continue to make Spanish more bearable. Thanks for the broken sentences, the hand gestures, the “…no sé” in every other sentence. I appreciate all of our shared looks of horror at the AP listening tests so much more because I know that will be us next year.

TCT Staff and my fellow WFPers, the outlet to my electricity

Thank you for giving me space to be me. I know so many of you well already, and I want to know each one of you just as well. To Sof and Allie, for your endless patience and welcome and vulnerability. For never hesitating to help us with our stupid questions and ceaseless insecurities, because you were us once, too.

My bus group, the speaker to my headphones

You are a walking contradiction. You make the bus ride more unbearable. You make the bus ride less unbearable. You are loud and obnoxious, and you make me laugh harder than nearly anything else. I hate middle schoolers, but I used to be one and most of you are them now. I won’t ever admit to saying this, but I hope Mr. Dan doesn’t move you to the front.

And Grace Barber, the soulmate to my broken heart

Every time I fall, you put me back together. I have written you words about soulmates and love, and you know how much I love you. But I need to express just how rare I think you are. We are perfect for each other. Somehow, in this world of seven billion people in the universe of millennia, we were born in the same state in the same decade. Somehow, you moved to a house half a mile from mine. I think it was fate that broke your porch light, or something close because here I am right now thinking about the only person in the world who was made for me. Bespoke, you could say. I’ll love you forever.

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