On Graduation
Start writing a post
Student Life

On Graduation

To the end of an era, the best is yet to come!

1191
On Graduation
Molly Martin

Steam rises from my hair as it falls from the burning hot curling iron. My eyes, heavy with mascara look to the clock on my nightstand.

-tick-

4:12

-tick-tock-

4:13

-tick-tock-tick-tock-

... 4:14

I blink and open my eyes lost in a sea of teenagers, emotional, dressed in shining royal blue gowns blurring my vision.

6:00

Graduation ...

A freshman lost in the halls, struggling to hold my textbooks, grades, and the overwhelming weight of multiple extracurricular activities, I constantly dreamed of the end of my senior year, the glory of graduation, and moving across the country to some glamorous college.

Seniors looked longing, wishing for the same naive enthusiasm to leave as they exchanged their textbooks for gowns, already missing the easiest part of their lives.

My older sisters, plagued by a pressing combination of senioritis and nostalgia took every opportunity to encourage me to look around and fully embrace every experience-no matter how mundane- because as they were discovering, they would all become memories.

6:21

-tick-

6:22

-tick-tock-

6:23

Twenty-four classes and four years later I walk with my cap pinned tightly to my dirty-blonde hair through the empty halls of the school to the excited noise bursting from the cafeteria.

The faces I've known my whole life suddenly seem foreign as their familiar eyes swell with joy and sadness simultaneously. Parents smile and wave, knowing the next time they hug their child, everything will be different.

I look into the sea and immediately find my best friends. The smiles I've confided in call me over and suddenly I'm taken back 13 years. We aren't in the cafeteria that has seen every heart-throb and heart-ache of our spontaneous teenage years, but the assigned tables of kindergarten, our first week of public education hardly under our belts.

The boys with scruffy beards and bellowing voices are once again small and youthful, voices squeaking with laughter.

Girls with perfectly manicured nails and winged eyeliner are almost unrecognizable with the tom-boy kids I screamed with years before on the playground.

6:28

-tick-

6:29

-tick-tock-

6:30

With the wave of a baton, the music begins and before my mind can agree, my feet lead me outside including me in the 476 kid procession to the world of taxes, reunions, and responsibility.

7:00

Speeches come and go, parents cry and cheer, and in a daze I throw my cap to the wind, giving the world my four years. Hovering feet above me, I smile at my childhood, high school, and the nerves I've harbored for the exciting, new world I've yet to discover in Bloomington - Normal.

Shaped by the white concrete walls and hundreds of friendships, I found myself. I write this for you, underclassmen, for the kid I once was. Look around because one day, you'll open your eyes and see your friends will change, your surroundings will change, and you, yes you will change. Cherish the stupid assignments, petty drama, and uncontrollable laughter because high school flies by faster than every ball I didn't catch in gym. Class, congrats. We did it. Although our commencements bring an end to an era, I can promise you, the best is yet to come.

Report this Content
This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
houses under green sky
Photo by Alev Takil on Unsplash

Small towns certainly have their pros and cons. Many people who grow up in small towns find themselves counting the days until they get to escape their roots and plant new ones in bigger, "better" places. And that's fine. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought those same thoughts before too. We all have, but they say it's important to remember where you came from. When I think about where I come from, I can't help having an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for my roots. Being from a small town has taught me so many important lessons that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Keep Reading...Show less
​a woman sitting at a table having a coffee
nappy.co

I can't say "thank you" enough to express how grateful I am for you coming into my life. You have made such a huge impact on my life. I would not be the person I am today without you and I know that you will keep inspiring me to become an even better version of myself.

Keep Reading...Show less
Student Life

Waitlisted for a College Class? Here's What to Do!

Dealing with the inevitable realities of college life.

89324
college students waiting in a long line in the hallway
StableDiffusion

Course registration at college can be a big hassle and is almost never talked about. Classes you want to take fill up before you get a chance to register. You might change your mind about a class you want to take and must struggle to find another class to fit in the same time period. You also have to make sure no classes clash by time. Like I said, it's a big hassle.

This semester, I was waitlisted for two classes. Most people in this situation, especially first years, freak out because they don't know what to do. Here is what you should do when this happens.

Keep Reading...Show less
a man and a woman sitting on the beach in front of the sunset

Whether you met your new love interest online, through mutual friends, or another way entirely, you'll definitely want to know what you're getting into. I mean, really, what's the point in entering a relationship with someone if you don't know whether or not you're compatible on a very basic level?

Consider these 21 questions to ask in the talking stage when getting to know that new guy or girl you just started talking to:

Keep Reading...Show less
Lifestyle

Challah vs. Easter Bread: A Delicious Dilemma

Is there really such a difference in Challah bread or Easter Bread?

60541
loaves of challah and easter bread stacked up aside each other, an abundance of food in baskets
StableDiffusion

Ever since I could remember, it was a treat to receive Easter Bread made by my grandmother. We would only have it once a year and the wait was excruciating. Now that my grandmother has gotten older, she has stopped baking a lot of her recipes that require a lot of hand usage--her traditional Italian baking means no machines. So for the past few years, I have missed enjoying my Easter Bread.

Keep Reading...Show less

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Facebook Comments