In the weeks leading up to my high school graduation, I swore up and down to anyone who would listen that I would be bawling like a baby upon hearing the first name hesitantly called out by our principal. I cried at the sound of the bell ringing signaling our last day of school, I wailed tears of misery the last time I saw my best friend, and I almost ruined my graduation photos with the tear tracks drying up crustily on my foundation-patted cheeks. The actual ceremony felt like a blur, a simple hour spent listening to names be called that I’d never hear uttered again, and peering into the crowd in the stands for faces I recognized. I remember determinedly weaving through bodies in a crowd in its aftermath, in search of the familiar faces of my friends and family. As we all eventually found our way to each other, I took in their various expressions, some delirious with joy, some drowning in relief, and some helplessly devastated. One face in particular was sobbing out uncontrollably, and as I teased her for the state she was in she hid her face in the crook of her gown-clad elbow and blubbered out through a mess of snot and tears, “Why aren’t you crying?”
Of course, I had been asking myself the same question since we took our seats in front of the podium. I know I have the bad human habit of looking at the past through rose-colored glasses, romanticizing the worst of times, and yearning for a me that no longer exists. High school is no exception, and I have plenty of good memories from that period of my life, but my graduation is one event my mind has not been able to sugarcoat. The immediate response that rang through my head was, ‘Well, because I hated it here’. Although it does feel like an overstatement to say that I hated my high school, it was indeed a word I threw around a lot in association with the establishment. In most instances, it was fueled by teenage angst, and out of spite for the often ridiculous rules we were bound by inside its steadily chipping blue-painted walls. But at other, more desperate times, it was shouted out of sheer frustration from the mouth of my 16-year-old self in response to my parent’s inquiries, crushed by a pressure that was always looming over my head. To hate something is to care, and I cared so much about things that have become relatively trivial to me now, but that seemed to be equivalent to the weight of the world a mere two years ago. I always felt like I was embedded in a crisis, whether it was if my stomach looked flat enough to wear the new crop top I bought, the number displayed in my Instagram followers, or finding a steady group to sit with at lunch. One building had been the center of my universe for nearly half a decade, and in one moment, all of the things I nursed so carefully in my mind for years seemingly dissipated, and it was all over. At that moment I realized just how small me and my worries were, as they fell into another drop into the bucket that is life. In my smallness, the world felt overwhelmingly bigger, and through me rushed a feeling I haven’t the words to explain. So I smiled sheepishly at my friend and responded with an bashful, “I don’t know”.
By Tiana Gregg
Tiana is a rising junior at NYU majoring in English and minoring in Art History. She spends her days reading, writing, listening to music, and indulging in just about every hobby (except sports!) you can think of to fill her time. You will never find her idling.
For over 20 years, the Campus Clipper has been offering awesome student discounts in NYC, from the East Side to Greenwich Village. Along with inspiration, the company offers students a special coupon booklet and the Official Student Guide, which encourages them to discover new places in the city and save money on food, clothing, and services.
At the Campus Clipper, not only do we help our interns learn new skills, make money, and create wonderful e-books, we give them a platform to teach others. Check our website for more student savings and watch our YouTube video showing off some of New York City’s finest students during the Welcome Week of 2015.
Tags: change, college, friendships, graduation, high school, Leaving Home