It’s both humorous and upsetting to think back on my previous years of high school and remember how much everybody lied to me. I don’t hold it against anybody, but countless teachers, former students and my brothers told me at least on a weekly basis that junior year would pose the greatest threat to my GPA and social wellbeing, my sleep and my sanity. Aside from one arduous, lengthy research paper, I breezed through most of junior year, as did most of the people I’ve asked, but senior year hit me like a brick in more ways than one. Instead of the freedom to laze around and lounge in completely unproductive classrooms without the fear of homework – or any work for that matter – as I had imagined of senior year, the pace of the year only ever began to slow down in the last few weeks. The moment the school year began, I hit the ground running in all of my classes and in every direction. It hasn’t even come close to the dreamlike settings I imagined over summer.
The very first day, that one day normally exclusively dedicated to the process of reading syllabuses and going over classroom procedures and pretending to listen, immediately started off with promptly setting those syllabuses on the floor to make room for the review worksheets and new lessons our various teachers handed out. Apparently, as a high school AP student and senior, I needed to prepare myself for college and the environment it comes with. In short that means breaks hardly exist anymore, and the pace almost never slows down.
Then, about two weeks in to school, the online AP Chemistry class I took against several teachers’ and students’ advice quickly became one of my greatest high school regrets. I mean no disrespect to the district when I say this, but it only took about three weeks for me to notice the hole I’d gotten myself into (really, it took two weeks for the class to start and one for me to notice my mistake). Conveniently, the district stops allowing course changes after the first two weeks, meaning I had no choice but to continue with my fourth science or graduate on the minimum plan, no matter how lowly I thought of it. In this one class I barely pulled off straight C’s, the greatest disappointment of my entire education, and I didn’t learn anything about AP Chemistry — everything I did in that class relied exclusively on Pre-AP knowledge.
Fortunately, despite a busy schedule, I had two blocks of office aide every day, giving me time to relax and work on homework. With the second-semester schedule changes, however, my AP Chinese class started and replaced both of my office aide blocks and my extra newspaper block. As my fourth year of Chinese and an AP class, the mere three of us (it started out as four of us, but it only took a few days for a quarter of the class to change its schedule) had a short two six weeks to learn as much of the material and practice as much as we could to even hope of passing the AP test. The only non-Chinese students of the three, I began at a noteworthy disadvantage, but I held my ground as best I could. And yet, despite my hours of studying and taking practice tests, I’m far more confident I failed the AP test than I am in my Chinese-speaking abilities. Not because I didn’t have a good enough class. AP Chinese 4 taught me more in one year and worked me harder than most of my classes did in four. College Board simply thought the test should match the language in its difficulty, even if it would clearly take twice as many years of the class (or, you know, having Chinese parents) to even have hopes of passing the test.
On my final note of senior-year burdens, I spontaneously decided at the beginning of the year I needed to take as many extracurricular as I could, so I’d have them to throw onto my college application. While it seems to have done me some good in getting me scholarships from UT, it came with a sizable cost. For most of the year, everyday had a regular afterschool meeting I had to attend. Getting out at five or six each day coupled with the fact I walk home (I have yet to take my driving test, though I’m sure I’ll do it someday) meant I generally got home at about six or seven in the evening. Not only did it leave little time for homework and especially projects, it also meant I almost never had any time to spend with friends. I don’t claim to have had the most active of social lives, but I did have one, and I did miss it throughout a good part of my senior year.
Anyway, to make an excessively long story short (well, shorter), senior year — contrary to all the things I’d heard about it from other people — quickly became the longest, most arduous year I had to trudge through of my twelve or so years of education. And I guess most of the blame falls on me. I jumped way ahead of myself without easing into any of it, all while operating on the premise it would prevent the same mediocre challenges as my previous high school years. I should’ve thought much more carefully about everything I had signed up for and prepared for a bit of a struggle. Even if people told me I shouldn’t worry, I should’ve known AP Chinese, five other AP classes, working on the newspaper as assistant editor, and taking more extracurriculars and competing in more events than I had ever before wouldn’t leave me with much breathing room. At the same time, I couldn’t have predicted everything senior year threw at me — I had a lot of hopes and serious expectations I couldn’t really make happen.
And in the midst of it all, I lost focus of the human side of me, the side that doesn’t spend its nights staying up until two at night working on tomorrow’s homework, the side that spends time with its family and friends and does plenty of fun things. Nonetheless, senior year taught me countless things about me, what I want to do, and who I want to be, so I refuse to say it brought me nothing. I’m happy to have made it to this point, to move on to my next stage in life. I get to study until I’m thirty in hopes of obtaining the fabled Ph.D. and grow up and become an adult, get a job, get married and start a family. It’s scary, one of the scariest things I’ve ever faced, but I know I’ll face harder challenges. I’ll miss my life here in Mansfield where I grew up and met so many great people and became the man I am now, but I’m ready. It’s time to move on and grow up.
