This is my last first paper. When I woke up the morning of our first B-Day of the 2024-2025 school year, that thought rocked me. I realized I had spent my entire high school career waiting for what was next, and now, I was in the final stretch. I have been stuck in tunnel vision, only focusing on the next step since I first stepped foot on campus.
I remember applying to The Hoofprint, proposing my first article, and then, seemingly suddenly, I was named Co-Editor. These years went by in the blink of an eye. I have spent these past school years worried about whether or not I was doing enough to compete. I felt like I was in the middle of a marathon, and people were passing me in a casual sprint, and now looming college applications only amplify this feeling.
However, this experience is in no way subject to my time on The Hoofprint. In school, I feel as if I am constantly striving to achieve the higher standard that others appear to reach effortlessly. In some regard, this is the type of self-motivation that will take you places, but not if you are so focused on moving forward that you fail to truly appreciate what surrounds you. You’ll find that once you get to the place you have been focused on reaching, you will miss the process that got you there.
In the words of lyricist, musician, and poet Aubrey Drake Graham, “There’s times when I wish I was where I was, back when I used to wish I was here.” These lyrics hit me at my core, as I begin my last year of high school, and I’m sure my fellow seniors will relate. I have spent so much time worrying about how to reach the end of high school, that I am uncomfortable with being so close to the finish line. The pressure placed on students, by ourselves or others, forces us to seek sanctuary. We countdown the days till summer, causing us to miss the significance of everyday things during the school year.
My freshman year, I couldn’t wait to be in the stands like the upperclassmen, but now I wish I could spend one more football game on the infamous Freshman Hill (RIP). When I was a sophomore, all I wanted was to be the one to drive to school. Today, I savor the memories of morning walks from Ferncliff with my best friends. Last year as a junior, I couldn’t wait for June 7th, when I would be free of the chains that homework and pressure had bound me in, instead of thinking about the inevitable clock ticking down till graduation.
When we graduate, we are not only leaving Myers Park, but we are leaving the version of ourselves that we have been for the past four years. Whether you thrived in high school or have hated every minute of it, there is something bittersweet about preparing to leave a place like this. You’ll miss the people you love, but you will also miss who you are here, where you have grown and evolved.
For the class of 2025, our “lasts” are starting now, and mine have begun with this paper. I am grateful for all Myers Park has done for me and the people I have met, and I would not change my experience for the world. However, I know there were many times when my priorities kept me from being fully engaged in my high school experience.
To underclassmen, take it from me, a senior who has spent her years plagued with PowerSchool paranoia: instead of going through your time at Myers Park stressing about perfect grades or an abundance of leadership roles in clubs, I encourage you to spend time enjoying what can’t be put on a college application. When you feel swept up in the current of school, close your computer, step back, and take it day by day. These four years fly by, and we are lucky to have them.