I spent my high school years preparing for this day, and I now feel less prepared than ever. I write this to you from the Aero parking lot, where I have recently found myself using their Wi-Fi after they close at four. My car’s a mess, my caffeine addiction is kicking and the pile of folded laundry waiting to be put away at home is calling my name. In summary, I thought I’d be prepared to face the future right about now, and my laundry knows how that plan’s going.
Like many high school students, I imagined that my high school success would be best reflected in a well-padded resumé: extracurriculars, leadership, grades and a nice Common App essay to boot. I spent all of high school looking ahead. Pass this test to be ready for the next test to be ready for the final to increase my GPA to get into college. Join this club to rise the ranks to get leadership to write this senior reflection. Now, as I’ve reached the utter pinnacle of my high school career and I can reflect on all of my labor, the nights of perfecting achievements were the sole thing that held me back from preparedness.
As I leave behind my adolescence, I feel that my excitement in adulthood, despite all of my accomplishments, is shadowed by the thought that I didn’t do enough. However, as I look back, I don’t feel that I fell short in time studying or working. Rather, I think I fell short in the time I allowed myself to be a kid.
I spent that night panicking that my pre-calculus grade would prevent me from going to college, but I could have spent that night out cheering at the football game. At the time it made sense to join one more honor society, but now that cord around my neck is a better reminder of the groggy morning meeting wakeups than of the service I did or the people I got to share it with. I expected that I would be happy from the GPA raise AP Chemistry would give me, but it came at the cost of weekends trapped in my room without seeing the sun, panicking because what the heck is an equilibrium constant?
I wish I hadn’t confused achievement with fulfillment. The tasks I accomplished and the grades I received were certainly important in preparing me for life ahead, but they weren’t at all helping me feel ready to leave high school behind. We’re about to go into the real world without the safety net of home to catch us when we fall. I should’ve taken advantage of that safety net while I had it, letting myself falter and sacrificing some attempts at perfection for moments of joy.
This isn’t to say that no achievements are fulfilling. I’m a journalism major, so working hard at an extracurricular like the Harbinger was one of the most enjoyable pieces of my high school experience. It’s all about balance. Find the happy medium between hard work that will make you feel accomplished and enjoyable activities that will make you feel like a kid for the last four years you get that privilege.
What I wish someone had told me is that it’s okay to take a breath. Spend a night binging that show, go to that football game or that concert and let yourself have fun. Sleep! You’re a kid in high school, so I know you don’t get enough of it. Moving beyond high school, you will have plenty of time to worry about the many responsibilities that come with your academic and professional pursuits. You will have plenty of time to worry about money, promotions and work. If you don’t need to, why start now?
In the end, high school was never just about the accolades or the résumé lines—it was about becoming a person I could be proud of. That person isn’t defined solely by academic rigor or perfect grades, but by the laughter shared with friends, the risks taken, the moments of stillness and the memories that don’t come with a diploma. As I sit in this parking lot, surrounded by messes both literal and metaphorical, I realize that feeling unprepared might just mean I cared deeply. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe the point of it all wasn’t to feel ready, but to feel something—and to trust that what I’ve built, imperfect and joyful, is enough to carry me forward.
