By Cassidy Johnson
I have been asked to give a sort of final reflection on my time in high school; a reflection on Cassidy’s personal high school experience if you will. I kept sitting down to write this, but time after time I struggled to find the words to characterize, describe, explain what it was like for me in high school. This was not some case of writer’s block. It took me a little bit of time to realize that I could not reflect on high school because it was not over for me.
Don’t misinterpret what I’m trying to say here. It’s not that I’m not ready to move on to the next chapter of my life: Vanderbilt. It’s not that I’m too scared or immature for the transition. It’s just that . . . simply put it hasn’t happened yet. I haven’t left yet, the transition hasn’t taken place. And leaving doesn’t mean graduation; it means Nashville becoming my new address. The general nature of a reflection is that you are looking back at something, making a consideration after some observation of past events. High school is not in my past–it almost is. It’s barely my present, but certainly not my past, not yet.
High school is undoubtedly one of the most crucial periods in an individual’s life. A tantamount time of growth, learning, and change. And while I am to some degree aware of the changes my person has undergone in the last four years, is that determination truly mines to make? We see ourselves through the most skewed lenses. Any truly personal reflection I make regarding my growth would be irrevocably biased; I wouldn’t trust it. This isn’t to say that there aren’t moments that stand out above the rest. If I’m being honest, the dullness of Freshman and Sophomore year mostly faded from my mind. The best moments came later, are more recent. There was that the one and only time I fell asleep in class and woke up to a picture of a demon on the big screen and shrieked. There was that one time I tried to pull an allnighter and failed spectacularly. There was that one time I read an original poem at the Walkout. And there was all the time I spent with my friends. There were teachers that stood above the rest too: Bowman, Russell, the Houvouri, Jadonath, Jandy, Scahill, Anderson, and Don Cary. I’m grateful to them all.
I guess what I’m meaning to say with all this is that there’s no rush to make a hasty determination about my high school experience. Until the last day, I am experiencing it, in the thick of it. I’ll make the determination when I’m ready, I’ll reflect when I’m ready. Although it was never my intention to do so I find myself leaving you all with little to reflect upon and a little bit of young wisdom. There is so much time, so much beautiful time. Do not attempt to end an experience before it is truly over; do not miss a moment. Do not make summations until you have distance. And who cares what high school was like anyway. There is so much more beyond this.