When I was in the 8th grade, I used to sit next to a poster in my English class that read, “Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid of only standing still.” I’d roll my eyes at it every day, thinking about how dramatic the whole idea of growing up was. I’d hear the adults saying to always bask in my youth, to never take any moment of my childhood for granted. I’d see the seniors cry as they walked the stage and wonder how in the world growing up could be such an emotional thing. As I sit here and think over all the trials and tribulations that high school has brought me, I can’t help but laugh. I laugh thinking over how right that poster was, how changing and growing throughout these 4 years can be beautiful, and how it shaped me into who I’ve become today.
With each passing year, I longed to find a group that would make me flourish. Freshman year I belonged to the marching band. I’d show up with my clarinet every morning, my ears still ringing from the fight song we had rehearsed 50 times the day before. Everyone in the band was used to hearing my name yelled over the megaphone, telling me to move left, right, up, down, backward, sideways, and anything in between. Sophomore year, I shut my clarinet case for good and took up the Student Council. I’d walk in after school to always find a box of markers and set of posters to put around the school. Each week, I’d slowly grow burnt out from the smell of Sharpie and giving my opinions about who should do what bake sale. Junior year, I threw the art supplies out the window and auditioned for theatre. I’d stiffly dance across the stage and hide behind the curtains as Rogers and Hammerstein blasted throughout the auditorium. Theatre used to be fun for me, but suddenly it felt like I was in a Broadway boot camp. I left my character shoes and sheet music at the door.
Senior year had just begun, and I had no group. How was I supposed to graduate without saying that I was a talented musician, that I made the school a better place, that I starred in a musical? At least I still had my best friends. During 4th period, I’d constantly check the clock, ready to run out the door and greet my friends at the corner of B building, excited for what today’s lunch topic would be. As we would walk across campus to the parking lot, I’d smile and wave at the people I had met through my old groups. I’d look at my friends and back at the people I once knew and came to the realization that these groups had made me flourish after all. It wasn’t about growing and changing through the activity, it was about growing and changing through the people I had met, and the experiences they had gifted me.
Something that my friends and I always bring up is our “awkward” phases. I’d cringe thinking about the homemade haircuts I used to give myself and the questionable fashion choices I’d make to seem edgy. One of the most important things I’ve learned in high school is that awkwardness can be something to treasure. I may cringe looking back at the uneven bangs that I’d proudly flaunt, but I know now that I have many more of these ridiculous phases to go through in the future. With each embarrassing moment I pass by, they’ll soon become something to cherish.
High school was scary, fun, strange, wild, and a million other things that I’m sure everyone can understand. As I graduate next week, I take 3 valuable lessons I’ve been taught with me. My friends taught me to always be yourself. My family taught me the importance of finding joy in the darkest of times. And I’ve finally taught myself that it’s okay to think of growing up as an emotional thing. I smile thinking about that poster in my English classroom, no longer afraid of growing slowly. No matter where I go, no matter what I achieve, these memories will always stay with me.
