Open letter to the Class of 2018
Within the next few days, we will enter those school doors we’ve walked through the last 720 days, take our last ever high school final, and take that last glance around the crowded lobby. Next week, we will walk across the stage at SKC and look out into the crowd to see the faces of our peers: the one you had a crush on in sixth grade; the one that made fun of you for not wearing Aeropostale in seventh grade; the one that you were blessed to sit by in chemistry (because without his help you wouldn’t have passed); those few that you forgot even went here; the first one to ever break your heart as well as the best friend who was there to pick up the pieces.
We will look out to see the people who have helped shape us into who we are. We will remember the laughs, the mental breakdowns in Calculus resulting in literal tears, Jon Peterson’s English satire essay about Roab Prislop, and especially all of the so-called “group” projects that you did yourself the night before the due date. We will look at our parents who are just thankful we made it, the underclassmen who envy us because this is the last year of senior release (haha at them), and the teacher who takes your cell phone to the office just because he heard it vibrate (and who is probably sitting next to that other teacher who literally growled at you when you whispered something quickly to your friend during reading period).
It is true that high school goes by in a blink of an eye. A slice of me wishes we could have more time together—one more laugh together as we see the questions over the the assignment we didn’t read for, one more “Wait, that is due today?” or Parker Adler begging for a pencil as we walk into early bird, one last BBQ in the parking lot with our trucks parked in a circle and Cameron Brown’s partially uncooked hamburgers. There’s no doubt that college is going to be different than high school, but it is our turn to spread our wings and go.
I am not going to lie; I am excited! I’m nervous, too. I think we all are, and that is natural. Before we go our separate ways, I hope to let you all know how much you truly mean to me. The memories we have made will last forever. I will never forget the Friday nights we spent under the lights watching some of the most beautiful sunsets we will ever see while cheering on our boys, Saturday night bonfires doing Lord knows what, speed walking to our first period class with at LEAST 30 other seniors trying to avoid getting a pink slip from good ole Sampson. I’ll never forget waking up Sunday morning wishing it was still Saturday, and of course, I’ll never forget the main thing about Mondays: planning it all again.
I just want to say thank you to you all You have truly made my time in high school special. I wouldn’t have wanted to go through it with any other class. It’s with a happy heart and teary eyes that I say “until next time.” I will miss seeing your tired faces five days a week, and if you ever find yourself in Northern California make sure you let me know! Remember, life’s a garden; dig it.