A year ago, I was counting down the days until I graduated high school. I felt trapped in the bubble of a high-pressure school in the heart of the Silicon Valley and couldn’t wait to get out of there. Throughout my four years at Castilleja, many family members, friends and even strangers striking up a conversation have told me how lucky I am to have been accepted by and to have had the opportunity to attend such an amazing school. I put on a smile for them but rolled my eyes behind my back. I told them I loved everything about my school and pretended to be grateful. In reality, I didn’t enjoy many of my classes and the extracurricular activities I felt obligated to participate in exasperated my rapidly deteriorating mental state. By the end of junior year, I stopped caring about my grades and desperately searched for any way to escape the fast-paced culture of my community.
Although I had more than my share of struggles at Castilleja, it was also, in a sense, my home for four years. It’s where I spent late nights working on the school newspaper; it’s where I performed with orchestras and in musicals. It’s where quirky traditions like Ringing and Junior/Senior Rivalry allowed me to become friends with the girl who would eventually help me find my way at Tufts. It’s where I met the friends I text any time of the day or night. Most importantly, Castilleja is the place I found my voice and developed the confidence to be who I truly am.
Often, we don’t realize the true value of an experience or a moment until it becomes a memory. We are the sum of our experiences, whether we remember them all or not. Even the painful memories, the ones that still bring tears to our eyes, belong to us. They make us who we are and we owe it to ourselves to acknowledge them. As I embark on my college adventure, I will remember where I came from. I will carry with me the passion for learning that my biology teacher instilled in me and I will never forget the constant support from friends and family that got me through high school.
If I had the chance to go back to the beginning of it all, there are many things I would do differently. I would have opened up to some of my friends and teachers sooner and I would have shut others out. I would have taken more risks because that’s how we learn the best and because there’s nothing more boring than a perfectly linear trajectory in life. But the bottom line is, I don’t have any regrets. As a college student, I see that my Castilleja education hasn’t failed me. I am confident enough to speak up in class; I know when to ask for help and I finally know what it feels like to be in complete control of myself. So, Castilleja, I probably won’t be visiting campus or attending alumni events when I come home from college just yet, but sometime in the near future, I know I will miss you. You’ve shaped me into the person I am today and I’m grateful for that.
