When I was in tenth grade, they told me that we were now grownups, that we wouldn’t have to hold hands or walk in lines. But they still did roll call and had our parents fill out permission slips, and we did everything in groups. We were herded around like sheep. But that was high school. This is college now.
A few days ago, I was dropped off at Michigan Avenue on a school-sponsored trip. They didn’t take down my name, they didn’t ask for my phone number. They told us where to meet at a certain time and let us roam free…
Here, there is the mixing of grades, and you aren’t restricted to your graduation year. Class of 2018 students can become editors for school publications (holla at yo gurl) and make varsity tennis (nope, not me) but meanwhile be completely undecided and continue to be that way for the next few months or so, switching schools like snap that.
I forget that people don’t know who I am. In some ways, I get to paint a whole new picture for myself, and have established myself here as ‘Cat’.
High school is just a gas station on the road trip of life, and I’m merely stopping through.
I just don’t care about nearly as much as I used to, because my life here is temporary; I’m not going to be here for much longer anyways.
There are so many things I want to redo in my lifetime and in my time spent on this school campus, but the way that I see it, one minuscule decision here could have made all of the difference there. Maybe if I had decided another way on whatever divisive issue, the course of my life would be changed forever. But we can only speculate so far about “what-ifs.” Continue reading