To the graduates of 2007, let me be the first to congratulate you.

The tests are taken, the grades are in, the invitations have been sent and the robes are ready.

Now all that is left is that final march down the halls of academia into the real world.

Some of you will march to the tinny sounds of a school band playing some version of “Pomp and Circumstance.” Others will march to a near perfect recording piped in over a pair of gymnasium speakers.

But march you will.

So before you take that first step towards your long awaited diploma, let me be the first to give this piece of sage advice — none of it matters.

After all of the math tests taken, and science labs performed, after all of the red marks on tests and after honors certificates are awarded, none of it really matters.

None of it, that is, except for that piece of music to which you are marching.

I remember that day when I was in your very shoes, walking single-file down the halls of Pickens Academy in 1986.

We were a bunch of 17- and 18-year-olds ready to take on the world.

We heard speeches from our classmates about remembering the past and looking forward to the future.

We heard words of wisdom from Abraham Lincoln, Albert Einstein and, yes it is true, Weird Al Yankovic.

Tears were shed and hugs given.

Then the band struck those initial chords and the class of 1986 marched out of the school cafeteria into an uncertain future.

Graduation was over. But the music wasn’t; neither was the marching.

And that is the important part — the music.

Listen for it. Identify it and march to it.

I don’t want it to seem like you have wasted 12 years sitting in the classroom listening to boring lectures from your teachers.

This is where the music started.

But it didn’t start with the quadratic equation or with chemical reactions. It didn’t begin with term papers or even in gym class.

No, the music started deep within — in your heart and in your soul.

With the care of your families, teachers and classmates, you have begun to recognize that symphony within. This is where “you” reside.

As you already know, too many people have their own pieces of music waiting for you. They want you to stand up straight, be a professional, wear the right clothes, be wealthy.

Nothing is wrong with any of these things — if that is who you are.

But for most of us, the music that is being piped in from the world around us drowns out the masterpiece that resides deep inside.

Listen for it and march to it.

But don’t pay attention to just one part of the orchestra. Don’t be seduced by just the violins. Learn to love the clarinets, too.

Acknowledge the class clown, the artist, the thinker, the mathematician inside you. Learn to appreciate the whole piece of music, not just the parts.

I know this first hand. I listened to those around me who said, “You are smart. You don’t want to be an artist. Be a lawyer. Be an architect.”

So for 10 years, I marched to a composition that was not my own all the while hearing another piece of music — my music — in the background.

So I quit and started listening to my song instead of marching lockstep to everybody else’s tune. Nothing ever came from marching in someone else’s parade.

Don’t be afraid to change, to acknowledge that you have been marching to the wrong piece all along.

The great thing is the symphony is never finished.

Be a photographer. Write for the newspaper. Do whatever that song inside tells you. And do it with abandon.

Remember, the music inside of you is as unique and wonderful as the fingerprints on your hand.

Most writers of graduation speeches ask that you listen to what they have to say, I ask that you listen to yourself and let that music inside be your guide.

Listen for it, recognize it, march to it and learn to love it.

Ben Hillyer is the Web editor of The Natchez Democrat. He can be reached at 601-445-3540 or ben.hillyer@natchezdemocat.com.