First day back at school after February break, I cried in my car right behind the Yoberri. Did I cry because break was over? Partly. Did I cry because I feel like I’m not even approaching the homestretch of this arduous year? Mostly. That pregnant feeling when the teapot is about to whistle. That is the purgatory of junior year. I feel as though I came out sprinting in September and am now limping towards a finish line I cannot even see yet. I’m starting to resent my neon color coded schedule that keeps reminding me that my days start at 8:10 with Choir and don’t finish until 4:00 with miscellaneous meetings with teachers. Thankfully I have a thirty minute lunch break… that I use to cram ACT studying and caffeine boosts into while barely having time to go to the bathroom.
For two years I was forewarned by upperclassmen to buckle up for the turbulence, uncertainty, and weight of junior year. I always nodded my head but quietly felt confident that I could endure it. Little did I know that the confidence I once had would trickle down my cheeks and be wiped away with Starbucks sandpaper napkins in my car on a freezing February Tuesday. The only silver lining is knowing that the end of this rite of passage should be a well earned key to the next steps of my life.
Junior year has been the bane of my existence but has also been the best bonding experience. I do most of my physics assignments on the phone with my classmates as we struggle through detailing Free-Body Diagrams together. I quiz my friends during cram sessions sitting in the senior chairs on important dates from the Civil Rights Movement using the horrible mnemonic devices we deliriously developed past my bedtime. My Pre-Calculus class shares stories as the passing music plays and homework is being collected. I smile at every junior I see in the halls because I know how real the struggle is.
Not only are the classes ramping up but the leadership roles in extracurriculars are too. With seniors counting down the days until graduation, the junior class usually takes on more responsibilities as if they have any bandwidth to put anything “extra” in. The clubs, sports, leadership roles and even electives we chose to take on are starting to feel like a curse rather than an outlet of pleasure. Put that on top of my mandatory classes and the workload that comes with it, and I am left with five hours of sleep and a dreadlock on the nape of my neck.
How can there possibly be three months of this left? I feel as though I am going through the motions: turning my homework in on time, participating in fishbowl discussions, writing my in-class essays, turning in my physics quizzes, seeking outside of class help, analyzing quotes, memorizing vocabulary, and the highest reward I get is the weekend. Then the cycle repeats, and I’m back at Starbucks for my third Nitro Cold Brew of the week… and it’s only Tuesday. Even this Weekly article is a great procrastination excuse for all of the blue assignments on the Portal that await me to complete tonight. My procrastination tactics are particularly superb this year. I hide behind other seemingly productive activities, such as cleaning out my entire closet and medicine cabinets that I haven’t touched since Middle School, only to delay the more pressing issue – studying for my grammar quiz.
How can there possibly be three months of this left? I still feel like a freshman. It’s going too fast. I feel like an imposter that doesn’t deserve this rank. It’s surreal roaming the halls as an upperclassmen, giving advice to freshman, and feeling profound, impending loss for the imminent departure of the seniors I’ve emulated. They’ll soon pass the torch to us, and I’m not ready to leave junior year. I’m perfectly fine to steep in this torture rather than turn my face to prepare for the end.
