As my final AP Lit assignment of the year, my teacher assigned us a "senior year reflection" essay. I wanted to keep it casual and have fun with it, and I figured I'd share with those of you who are kind and cool enough to read what I write. It went as follows:
One feels most content while sitting in her backyard with a bowl of pasta and a playlist (or two) for company. Yeats might have said that, I’m not sure. But it certainly applies to me as I sit in my backyard listening to the birds complement the sweet croons of Stevie Nicks, working on my tan and this essay that lies far ahead of me this afternoon. The unsavory taste of required essay-writing stains my tongue, but one thing most people know about me is that I can never turn down an opportunity to write. And so I begin.
Upon receiving our letters to future selves that we wrote our freshman year, I was both tentative and dying to read the words of my fourteen-year old self. I did not disappoint. Writing like someone whose dad had once told her that she is “wise beyond her years” and has run with it ever since (true story), freshman-year Kate decided she would one day benefit from all the dorky sentiments and platitudes in the book. A small sample:
‣ “I hope my eighteen year old self still holds the same hopeless romanticism and
optimism I do now.”
‣ “Live a life you’d jump at the chance to relive.”
‣ “Failure is not an exception, it is expected.”
‣ “Life is wonderful and you definitely take it for granted.”
Reading this letter felt like a moment straight out of a coming-of-age movie scene. I was instantly transported back to the person I was four years ago (for better or worse). This letter is a gift in life’s simplest, most beautiful form: words from the heart. It not only reminded me that I get to live a life of abundance but also showed me just how much growth I’ve undergone these past four years. Growth in my ambition, as I worked tirelessly to achieve the grades that got me in to the 5% Club and all my top universities. Growth in my awareness, as I educated myself on racial injustice and LGBTQ+ inequality and environmental protection this year more than ever. Growth in my writing, as I filled my journal with the moments that shape me and in the local newspaper with the moments that shape our community. Growth in family, as I understand more every day how little I’d be without my parents’ love and support. Growth in my inspiration, as I have learned that life is about making fun of horoscopes...and finding beauty in the mundane.
Now, don't get me wrong: I'll be first in line to make fun of the trite words of advice freshman-year me gave herself, but there's no denying she was on to something. It's one thing to be force-fed cliché advice all your life and another thing entirely to realize you're living it out. Jumping at any and every opportunity, last-minute plan, and chance to do something that will make me the "cool aunt." Accepting generosity from others. Listening to people with whom I don't necessarily agree. Learning not to anticipate but to embrace the unknowable. Deciding to cut meat out of my diet. Going through the motions rather than doing anything to avoid failure. Dancing in the car even though my windows aren't tinted. Sitting alone in crowded cafés (and loving it). Realizing how nice it is to be able to sit with someone in comfortable silence. Telling myself I'll tell my crush I like him. Relentlessly and unapologetically posting photos of my smoothie bowls freshman year. Indulging in the fads. Clapping the loudest for my friends because they deserve the whole world and then some. Showing love to the parts of myself that make me unique. Getting my first (and only) boyfriend (somehow), breaking up with him, and knowing I wouldn't change any of it. Going on road trips with friends, from college visits to the Rockies. Starting a blog. Sharing my joy with others; allowing others to share in my joy. Finding out for myself what fans my flame and what I'd rather do without. Taking seconds and thirds without counting calories or making any excuse other than because I want to. Realizing that that same philosophy applies to the rest of life.
Especially this year, I have learned to meet every challenge armed with optimism and a grain of salt. I have learned the importance of anticipating my future but also of being able to meet myself exactly where I am. I’ve learned how to find people who are eager to walk, and at times run, that journey with me. I’ve learned the art of gratitude. I’ve learned that to make it in this world, you must not only seek out but be the grace and change and beauty. I’ve learned that while perhaps frowned upon, life is so much more fun when you color outside the lines. Four years ago, on the eve of a new chapter of my life, I reflected on what I hoped to get out of my years in high school. Now, I am fortunate enough to reflect on what I have gotten out of them.
As I look to the future, I must pay tribute to all the people and moments that have graced this past year of my life and become integral Jenga blocks in the person I am today. I played my last season of high school soccer and went to regionals with my team. I got my first A on a calc test since early junior year. I, with the rest of the world, learned to acclimate to Zoom classes and mask mandates, social distancing and stupid people. I amplified my voice in the fight for social justice in the protests I attended and articles I wrote, the conversations I shared and the podcasts I listened to. I got a subscription to The New York Times. With public places closed, I got more reading done this year than I have in quite some time. I celebrated the inauguration of a new president (and the salvation of our nation's democracy) with the rest of the world. I survived college application season. My friends and I had game nights in the garage when COVID made it too risky to meet up indoors. My family and I said goodbye to one of our beloved cats. I watched my dad fall in love with a new career. I was officially diagnosed with senioritis. I discovered my new favorite Blackbird order (iced vanilla chai with oat milk for anyone wondering). I committed to a university. I earned a few scholarships. I listened to Fearless (Taylor's Version) front to back in one sitting. I pulled several near-all-nighters. I was thrown my first surprise party ever by the BEST FRIENDS ever. I overrode the more logical part of me and decided to start liking my middle-school crush again (we can't all be perfect). I watched Brokeback Mountain for the first time (and sobbed). I biked for the first time in YEARS. And I’m realizing as this year rapidly draws to a close that I am so damn thankful for it all. It has been a year of tremendous growth, and I feel so privileged to be able to look back with nothing but fondness and gratitude for the person I’m becoming as a result.
My mom once told me that there are no friendships quite like the ones you find in high school. Once you get to college, romantic relationships get more serious, classes get more rigorous, and work gets more consuming. This year, amidst all the isolation and loneliness, I’ve been reminded of the beacon of light that is my friends. For all the late-night FaceTimes and coffee dates, day hikes and laughs over absolutely nothing and everything. The games of Clue and the texts that make it impossible not to smile, the Victoria Justice references and the boy talks (and girl talks). The relationships I’ve made and the ones I’ve strengthened have been the most important aspect of this year to me. Leaving for college in the fall, I get to carry a part of each of them with me wherever I go. No words can do justice how beautiful that is and how lucky that makes me.
As I go out into the world, I am a messy but beautiful and proud collection of my circumstances, relationships, and experiences. I am my dad’s generosity, learned from the way he never tips less than 30% and offers money to the man shaking a change cup outside of Millennium Station. I am my mom’s grace, learned from the way she juggles our family’s schedule and flawlessly pulled off a headscarf during chemotherapy. I am my sister’s bravery, learned from the way she wears Christmas socks year-round and finds reasons to smile through countless stays in the hospital. I am my best friends' patience, learned from the way they tolerate egregious dad jokes and love me despite my many flaws. I am my crush's ambition and my teachers' passion for knowledge. I am the passing stranger’s complexity, the grocery bagger’s exhaustion, and the barista’s eagerness to please. You all have left an indelible impression on me, and there is no act of love big enough to convey how grateful I am to you all.
A final toast to a year of immense growth and challenge that I wouldn’t trade for anything. To learning series and sequences and to reading The Book Thief for the first time (and crying in public on several occasions). To the love and passion I’ve found in the most unlikely places. To the growth and joy found amid a year of waters uncharted and normalcy undone. To becoming a young woman my fourteen-year old self would be proud of. To the future that lies ahead wide open and is ours for the taking. Cheers to the Class of 2021 and all that we've managed to accomplish these past 18 years -- despite and because of it all. My love and best to you all. We did it!!!!!!!!
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