This is the fourth month I’ve written this column, and every month I contemplated writing about this crazy thing called “senior year.” And every month I managed to avoid it.
But, as I sit here in my cozy “writing corner” and listen as Michael Buble’s smooth voice calms my thoughts, I guess it may be time to finally put my senior hopes and fears on paper.
I’ll start at the beginning: freshman year. I’m not sure if this is normal, but I remember my first day of high school like it was yesterday.
My friends and I met before school and walked through the front doors of Hillsboro High School together as students there for the very first time (typical freshman move, I know).
At that time, Taylor Swift had recently released her second album, which included the song “Fifteen,” a tune about a 15-year-old girl’s freshman mistakes and lessons. “It’s your freshman year and you’re gonna be here for the next four years in this town.”
Those four years seemed like they would last a lifetime.
However, before I knew it, I was entering my sophomore year. I was a little more brave and willing to try new things as a sophomore.
For example, I auditioned for the fall musical, which is something I have participated in ever since, and I joined the yearbook staff, which introduced me to the world of journalism and changed my career plans.
That year, I learned I am not exactly like my friends and my cousins; it’s OK for me to have different interests and talents.
Suddenly, it was my junior year and I was considered an upperclassman. I think I suffered from senioritis a year early, because, by the end of my junior year, I was ready to be done with high school. I was tired of the dull day-to-day routine of high school.
The year ahead of me felt like it would never come. That is, until May, when my senior friends graduated. It hit me that I would never again play high school tennis with Courtney, or sit next to Sammy and take stats, or hear Amy’s amazing voice in the musical and so on. It was then that I realized this whole “senior year” thing is actually quite overwhelming and scary and exciting and crazy.
Now my senior year is in full swing. I’m not quite sure what to think of it. I’ve already celebrated my last Thanksgiving as a high school student, my last season of tennis is over and soon I will enter my last semester of high school.
At the same time, I’ve completed my first college application and received my first scholarship. All these firsts and lasts lead to one thing: I’m growing up. It’s both exciting and scary to know that I will be on my own at college in less than 12 months.
There are lots of things to worry about between now and next August. I’m worried I won’t get along with my future roommate. Maybe she and I will have nothing in common. I’m worried about keeping good grades. And I’m worried about using community style bathrooms. I have a feeling that won’t be my favorite part of college.
Yet, I am excited for so many more things. I’m excited to make new friends, even though I will never forget the ones I have now. I’m excited to learn more about journalism and begin working as a broadcast journalist. In general, I’m excited for all of the new experiences that come with college.
My life has changed so much since I was that young freshman walking into HHS for the first time. Now I understand what all of the seniors before me meant when they said high school would “fly by.” It literally does. I guess all that’s left for me to do once I receive my diploma in May is buckle up and prepare for my next four “long” years of college.