The first time I ever heard the name Kendric Price (“Remembering Kendric Price ’05,” Vol. 47, No. 8) was when I was walking into musical rehearsal, and someone turned to me and said, “Hey, Kendric.” At the time I had no idea who Kendric was—I just assumed someone messed my name up again, confusing me for a former student. In fact, I later found out that there was another student named Kendric who had come through BB&N after Kendric Price, but I didn’t know it at that moment. Fast forward to around a month later, and Mr. Horning told our Chorale class that his former student, Kendric Price, had passed. When he asked if anyone was available to attend the service, I volunteered, as I wanted to do something for the family. Three other students—Tina Kulow, Chongyuan Hong (both ’20), and Priya Devavaram ’21—and I attended to perform the song “Precious Lord” as a quartet. The church was packed with around 500 people. We sat close to the front, and when we got up to sing, all of us were extraordinarily nervous.
The last funeral I had been to was my grandfather’s when I was only around 7, so I didn’t know what to expect. And when the service began, I felt something within me. As family members and friends began to speak, I felt a part of their loss, their deep mourning. I never met Kendric Price, but after his service I felt as though I had known him. The events from his childhood that his family recounted, the people he had worked with to create his programs, the students he had mentored: all of them felt suddenly real to me as if I had been present to watch them. I felt I had lost a role model, a friend I had never known.
Two weeks later, I volunteered to speak at the BB&N memorial event for Kendric because I wanted to share the lasting impact that the three-hour service had on me. No matter who we are, or if we knew Kendric or not, it is undeniable that the world has lost a great individual. Kendric was a shining role model of what we can strive to achieve as students and representatives of BB&N. At assemblies or class meetings, we always hear that our classes and teachers are preparing us to be the leaders in our communities post-graduation. All too often, however, I tune these speeches out, disregarding them as the ever-present rhetoric of our school.
Yet Kendric made an impact on me. At his funeral, the multitudes of people from all walks of life that came to celebrate his legacy made an impact on me. And in turn, I want to make my own impact.
As I eagerly anticipate my senior year and begin to brainstorm all the options I have for Senior Spring Project, I keep coming back to Kendric. Instead of my initial goal to play videogames for most of my hours, I now want to use the opportunities afforded me as a student at our school to help change maybe even one person’s life for the better. Almost all of us students never knew Kendric, but his legacy can encourage us all to create change in our own unique ways.
—Myles Nadeau-Davis ’20