We All Have To Move On From High School At Some Point

If You're In College, Stop Wearing Your Letterman Jacket And Attending High School Parties

My point is this: if you are driving home every weekend to attend a high school party, turn around and stay on campus.

90
views

I remember how excited I was when graduation day finally arrived back in 2017. I was closing one chapter of my life, and about to embark on an adventure of self-discovery and growth. It was the end of high school, a day many spend dreaming of practically since senior year.

However, it seems as if many cannot let their glory days of high school behind.

Every now and then, I will see someone wearing their letterman jacket with pride on campus, and I am confused as to why. Honestly, all I think of when I see someone wearing it is: "wow, look at this douchebag."

They hold no significant value once you get to college because nobody cares if you were captain of the football team, student body president, or what other extracurricular you participated in. I promise you, there is a handful of other people who probably did the same thing as you.

College is a clean sweep. You are allowed to reinvent yourself without the boundaries high school sometimes implements. It is your first time being on your own and to create new memories.

Once graduation day comes and you get that diploma, it is time to hang up that letterman jacket so it can be a souvenir from high school.

I am not saying to drop everyone you talked to in high school. A few of my closest friends are the ones I grew up with, the ones I would see every day and have classes with. They are part of the reason why I look forward to coming home, so we can hit up our favorite local restaurants and go on late night Sheetz runs like we did in high school.

My point is this: if you are driving home every weekend to attend a high school party, stop. Turn around and just stay on campus.

You are missing out on so many opportunities college has to offer, or hanging out with the new friendships you are meant to make. If your hometown is anything like mine, there might not even be anything offered for you anyways. You are wasting your time by constantly coming back when who knows what you may be missing out on back at college.

Besides, it is kind of pathetic when you come home from college just to a party being thrown by high schoolers. And I'm not trying to be rude. There isn't really much that happens at a high school party besides kids trying to sneak alcohol without their parents realizing it while they sit around and do nothing, maybe take Instagram pictures to pretend "they are living their best life." As a college student, what can you even say to someone who still gets wrapped up in petty high school drama?

If you've been to a college party like at a frat or even a house party, you know that's where the real fun is.

So, do yourself a favor and don't drive home. Stay on campus, so you can go out with friends and make memories at 2 a.m. at McDonald's when you all go to grab nuggets and share them all. Trust me, you'll have more fun rather than coming home like you planned to.

Popular Right Now

The Coach That Killed My Passion

An open letter to the coach that made me hate a sport I once loved.
607101
views

I fell in love with the game in second grade.

I lived for every practice and every game. I lived for the countless hours in the gym or my driveway perfecting every shot, every pass, and every move I could think of. Every night after dinner, I would go shoot and would not allow myself to go inside until I hit a hundred shots. I had a desire to play, to get better and to be the best basketball player I could possibly be.

I had many coaches between church leagues, rec leagues, personal coaches, basketball camps, middle school, and high school. Most of the coaches I had the opportunity to play for had a passion for the game like I did. They inspired me to never stop working. They would tell me I had a natural ability. I took pride in knowing that I worked hard and I took pride in the compliments that I got from my coaches and other parents. I always looked forward to the drills and, believe it or not, I even looked forward to the running. These coaches had a desire to teach, and I had a desire to learn through every good and bad thing that happened during many seasons. Thank you to the coaches that coached and supported me through the years.

SEE ALSO: My Regrets From My Time As A College Softball Player

Along with the good coaches, are a few bad coaches. These are the coaches that focused on favorites instead of the good of the entire team. I had coaches that no matter how hard I worked, it would never be good enough for them. I had coaches that would take insults too far on the court and in the classroom.

I had coaches that killed my passion and love for the game of basketball.

When a passion dies, it is quite possibly the most heartbreaking thing ever. A desire you once had to play every second of the day is gone, it turns into dreading every practice and game. It turns into leaving every game with earphones in so other parents don't talk to you about it. It meant dreading school the next day due to everyone talking about the previous game. My passion was destroyed when a coach looked at me in the eyes and said, "You could go to any other school and start varsity, but you just can't play for me."

SEE ALSO: Should College Athletes Be Limited To One Sport?

Looking back now at the amount of tears shed after practices and games, I just want to say to this coach:

Making me feel bad about myself doesn't make me want to play and work hard for you, whether in the classroom or on the court. Telling me that, "Hard work always pays off," and not keeping that word doesn't make me want to work hard either. I spent every minute of the day focusing on making sure you didn't see the pain that I felt, and all of my energy was put towards that fake smile when I said I was OK with how you treated me. There are not words for the feeling I got when parents of teammates asked why I didn't play more or why I got pulled after one mistake, I simply didn't have an answer. The way you made me feel about myself and my ability to play ball made me hate myself, not only did you make me doubt my ability to play, but you also turned my teammates against me to where they didn't trust my abilities. I would not wish the pain you caused me on my greatest enemy. I pray that one day, eventually, when all of your players quit coming back that you realize that it isn't all about winning records. It's about the players.

You can have winning records without a good coach if you have a good team, but you won't have a team if you can't treat players with the respect they deserve.

SEE ALSO: To The Little Girl Picking Up A Basketball For The First Time


Cover Image Credit: Equality Charter School

Related Content

Connect with a generation
of new voices.

We are students, thinkers, influencers, and communities sharing our ideas with the world. Join our platform to create and discover content that actually matters to you.

Learn more Start Creating

To The Marching Band That Changed My Life

Because hearing "one more time" for the last time can be oh so bittersweet.

310
views

To the Zebra Marching Band,

Thank You.

Words cannot describe how much you have done for me throughout these past four years. Little did I know that upon walking through the band room's intimidating doors my freshman year, I had unknowingly found my second home. On the outside it may have appeared to simply be kids with instruments on a field, however, it was so much more.

Thank you for teaching me how to have an immense amount of school spirit despite not knowing a single thing about football. From playing our school's fight song by heart, to feeling an electric energy each time the stadium lights lit up on Friday nights, you allowed me to experience a sense of joy unlike no other.

You taught me that there definitely is no "i" in "team," even if it may have taken me a while to understand that. I was able to learn that I didn't always need to be self-sufficient, that in order for me to succeed, I needed to listen and work together with those around me. I soon realized that we each played an important role on that field and even if just one of us was out of place, we would all be affected. Once we put on those uniforms, we weren't simply ourselves anymore, rather we came together regardless of backgrounds or differences, and became one. Under that shako, no one knew who we were, because that 10 minute show wasn't about any one individual, it was about the band.

I thank you for showing me that a family doesn't necessarily mean you're related by blood, that a family can be as small as the people within your section, or as big as the entire band. Without marching band, I would have never met some of my best friends. You brought some of the most amazing people into my life that I've had the opportunity to form long-lasting bonds with. Although I may have not known it at the time, but after years of complaining about the weather either being too hot or too cold at rehearsal, making up dances to the drum-line's cadences, helping each other memorize music and sets, or saying the phrase, "It's not a show if you don't have to go" to each other, these once-strangers around me had become a part of my roots. Thank you for placing people in my life that would help push me when I didn't want to do another run-through or scream the loudest with me when it came to school chants.

You taught me the virtue of patience, because after hearing the director say "one last time" for the 5th time in a row, I DEFINITELY needed it.

Turns out those hour-long bus rides actually feel like ten minutes when you're sitting by the the right people (aka: the back of the bus.) You gave me a chance to experience those irreplaceable laughs, inside jokes, and memories made at marching contests that I would look back on in a few years and say "Man, I miss this." I never did think I would ever get so excited over spending my Saturdays watching other bands perform while competing for a trophy of our own.

Thank you for both the significant and insignificant details. For the everyday normality of walking into the band room and being greeted by a hundred kids in a frenzy, to the medley of saxophones and tubas and other practicing instruments that would eventually become the background noise to my life. Or from having the opportunity to march in front of 20,000 people at the Magic Kingdom Parade at Disney World, to leaving a legacy by being the first band in my school's history to not only pass on to finals, but place eighth at our state marching contest.

In the end, you transformed me into a girl who adores the clarinet and is passionate about both music and marching. So much so that next year I'll be at Boone Pickens Stadium, making my dreams a reality by marching with a college band.

Just know I could have never done it without you, because when it's all said and done, I wouldn't trade getting to be a part of the Zebra Marching Band for the world.

Related Content

Facebook Comments