You were great, sure, in teaching me the fundamental skills I needed to succeed in college. How to study, take notes, study more, but also how to interact with others who I may or may not agree with. I never wanted to wake up at 6 a.m. (especially on Mondays), but that’s what you required, so it was done. I never wanted to be judged based on standardized tests, but the state forced you to do so. Regardless of whether I loved or hated every minute of high school, I’m fairly happy our relationship has come to a graceful end and here are my parting words to you, high school.
Thank you to the lesser known staff. The custodians and the cafeteria servers who made sure that we not only ate (some of us were likely to forget basic human needs amidst essays and tests), but had a clean space to go about our day. Often as high school students, we only notice when something isn’t right. Maybe a toilet backed up and flooded the library or a naughty freshman threw pickles on the window of the cafeteria. Whatever it is, we rarely notice when things are right and orderly, for instance, the distinctive smell of a clean school on the first day in August. So, thank you.
Thank you to the teachers who stayed well into the evening to help us on the pesky projects that just weren’t going to make the deadline otherwise. You didn’t have to do that, but you believed in us and we could tell. We could tell by the way you tried so hard to make us understand the content, even if we were exasperated at the time. We could tell by the way you’d get frustrated when nobody was paying attention in class. Most importantly, we could tell by the way you’d donate your precious free time to ensure that we were actually learning. So, thank you.
Thank you to the classmates that helped make some of the best lifelong memories throughout those four years. With you, I learned how to run when it’s appropriate (a little teepeeing during Homecoming Week never hurt anybody), but also when to take responsibility (sometimes a joke just goes too far). With you, I learned how to really laugh – you know, when your sides start to hurt and breath seems to be evading your lungs, the good kind. You were there, not only through the good and the bad times, but also when the strictest teacher had the biggest test of the year and we needed to work together to have any hope of passing. The late nights, early mornings, and everything in between – you were there. So, thank you.
Goodbye, though, to the cracked tile and dusty gym. Goodbye to the few teachers who really didn’t care. Goodbye to the late night study sessions. Goodbye to the classes I knew were important, but hated anyway. Goodbye to the students whose obnoxious behavior made learning any new concept extremely difficult.
Goodbye, high school.
