To the Class of 2015

We did it. Well, for the most part at least. First semester of senior year has come and gone, and surprisingly, we’re nearing the terminus of this tumultuous experience. For some of you, that means embracing the #SSS, for others, it means a road of bittersweet nostalgia, and for those that remain, it means an anxious semester of waiting to leave this place we’ve both cursed and loved.

Now, it’s undeniable that our class isn’t the most…functional, to say the least. And let me tell you now that this isn’t going to be another viscerally opinionated stance on the state of our class. Honestly, I don’t know that much about admin or any of the small scale politics that goes on at this school.

One thing I do know, however, is that each of us really does have a place in this disarrayed community. IMSA is full of little niches that we carve for ourselves. It’s made of the intellectuals, the scholars, the singers, the robotics-enthusiasts, the writers, and even the trolls. Yes, the collective feeling among the people in this class is far from love or anything close. But, if you can tell me that there’s no memory that you’ve come to call yours or no place to label as “home”, then well…maybe you should’ve left 2 years ago.

Whatever the case may be, I’d like to honestly say that I, personally, am scared. I’m scared of losing the little circles that we can pull around ourselves and the names that we’ve made. Next year, we’ll be lost in a wave of uniformity…devoid of our well-deserved reputations and devoid of the strange uniqueness that describes our class. I’m scared and excited at the same time. Scared of losing this subtle comfort. Excited to redefine myself.

But in reality, we’re so young. We have so much time to think and decide and regret. I don’t want to spend the last semester of high school deliberating, “what if I had taken this class?” or “maybe I should have written that paper…” The truth is, we’re all like that. There are times when we look back and think “how did I work so hard?” or “why did screw around so much?” But to be honest, the clichéd “what ifs” and “if onlys” don’t matter right now.

With this last semester, all I want to do is remember. I want to pocket the little moments that have built my IMSA career and hold on to the people that have joined me for the ride. And despite who you are or where you hail from, I can bet my life that you have those moments too. You have days of reckless decisions. The 5 AMs when still no one wants to go to sleep. The times you laughed, you cried, and you felt…here, with all these people.

So honestly, I know that our class isn’t exactly the paradigm of unity. But let me tell you another truth: I feel a certain connectedness in the lack thereof. Because at IMSA, we each have our place, and somehow, these all fit together in a particular way. And through it all, I’ve been challenged, impressed, and even humbled, by all of you, Class of 2015.

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