As my ultimate semester begins, there are many things running through my brain: too many lasts to count, the fear of not savoring every moment, and the uncertainty of my life seven months from now. Trite, I know.
Let’s start in December. Twelve Days and decision letters were plaguing my entire class. On Tuesday, December 16, I was granted admission to Columbia. The acme of my, well, life at this point. Don’t get me wrong, I was more than ecstatic. This dream I had been working towards my entire high school career had just paid off. But once it did, I was left with a feeling of aimlessness, for two reasons. First, I felt like I didn’t appreciate the moment or accomplishment fully. Obviously I was screaming and jumping, and mentally I still am, but after, life just kept going on. There was no shift in my brain, no cathartic release, just like a box was being checked in my laundry list of life. The second was just routine impostor syndrome. I was receiving Instagram requests from my fellow admits who had spoken in their country’s parliament, worked in the UN, and started businesses and nonprofits. I thought to myself: “Is this what college is going to be like?” Constant comparison and being one-upped? No, it’s not, and that’s because I won’t let it. Comparison is something I can choose to not do, and it’s as simple as that. However, that doesn’t stop impostorism from creeping in.
Back to senior year, though, what if my second semester of senior year isn’t THE second semester of senior year? What if this glamorized swan song of a semester just runs its course like the seven other ones I’ve experienced, which weren’t bad, just nothing for me to hype up for future generations. Nobody ever says the first semester of sophomore year is the most amazing time of your life, so there was no pressure to make it as such. Sentimentalizing every moment leads to nothing being sentimental, so I’m torn on how to strike a balance.
Nonetheless, this semester is the time for me to nourish the connections I’ve made within my short three and a half years at this school. What seemed like a four-year pit stop in between my eleven years at Catherine Cook and the rest of my life has evolved into a period of my life I will never forget because of the people in it. I’m not ready for my friends to be people I merely catch up with when I’m taking a break from my primary, college life.
While I’m embracing my friendships and connections at Parker more than ever, I’m conjunctly feeling haunted by the tumult brewing, and boiling over, in our country. People are more divided than ever during a time when we should really all be banding together. Even our model home has felt a drift, polarizing teachers, students, and families into factions not to be touched by one another. Democracy is collapsing in America, and I, among millions of others, feel utterly helpless. Going on as usual feels wrong, but what better would disrupting normalcy do?
Change is scary but staying the same is scarier (thank you TikToks to Heroes by David Bowie). No matter if we feel it, say it, or even exude it, all of us seniors are wading around in a pool of uncertainty. However, maybe it’s the nuanced mixture of freedom from college admissions, melancholy of childhood ending, and optimism for our future lives completely unbeknownst to us that will be the perfect recipe for a memorable finale.
