One of my earliest core memories at Algonquin was thinking, “Damn. That’s a lot of glitter.” It was the freshman orientation dance, and I was standing in the girls’ bathroom to catch a break from the terrifying upperclassmen trying to drag me into the dance circle. Somehow, people had managed to get body glitter absolutely everywhere, and that’s about all I remember from freshman orientation.

It’s a bit scary, how much I’ve forgotten about my time in high school. I remember thinking the world was going to end sophomore year when I knocked over and broke some of Mr. Barry’s desk decor with my enormous backpack at the end of an APUSH class (I’m still very sorry about that Mr. Barry). I was sure it was all I’d be remembered for. But look at me now, a few weeks away from graduation with a much smaller backpack, only recalling this mortifying episode once every couple of months.

Obviously, I don’t want to forget everything. I’ve had some good times: wandering the woods during cross country and making leaf piles, devouring $1 pizza at MICCA festivals and getting pooped on by Ms. Mott’s tortoises. 

As I’m on the brink of leaving this school forever, I’m getting nervous about forgetting everything I’ve learned and done here. So on that topic, here’s my #1 advice to all underclassmen: TAKE PICTURES. I didn’t take many pictures during my freshman and sophomore years, and I even had more iPhone storage then, yet a big part of my life went undocumented. 

Little did I know that those first almost-two years would be the most normal part of my high school experience. The pandemic stole the entire middle portion of our high school experience, and the world still isn’t completely back to normal. 

I went into high school with the expectation of a free trial of adulthood without the consequences but didn’t end up doing much adulting. I only have my permit (embarrassing, I know), am terrified of anything related to finance and can’t ever remember my Social Security number. Still, I like to think that I got a little extra time to be a kid.

In the future, I’ll try to hold onto the little memories, because one day, they’ll be all I remember about a time in my life—just like how I’ll always remember that glittery bathroom.