I’ve tried to write this farewell column three different times, and I just can’t seem to get it right. We were told that these columns are supposed to send a message, but what message? I could say that high school has been perfect, and I’d be lying, or I could say it was completely awful, and I’d still be lying.
Just like people, there is both good and bad in high school. The point is, don’t leave regretting anything. It’s the last week of my senior year, and I couldn’t be happier with the way my high school career has turned out.
Sure, I’ve made some mistakes along the way, but the mistakes I’ve made have taught me valuable lessons.
I can’t come up with the words to thank the people that have helped me through these three years. My best friend, Becca Fletcher, has kept me sane since sixth grade, and a special thanks goes to one of the best teachers in this school, Mrs. Sprague. I love her to death and she loves me even though most of the time I get on her nerves with my severe case of senioritis.
These two people have shaped me the most, not just this year, but the past three years, and I’d have to say, they’ve done a pretty good job.
I think that’s the point of spending thirteen years in school, to find and shape yourself. This school and my graduating class have absolutely helped me find myself.
I wouldn’t trade my years at this school for anything. Although most of this year has been boring, this last week of pure chaos is letting the last little bit of immaturity escape before we are gone, off to college and hard reality.
When I come back for the reunion, I’m going to remember every defining moment and those involved. These moments are what I’m going to look back on, and I’m proud to say, with no regrets. I honestly hope the rest of my class can say the same.
I’m proud of the person I’ve become, and I’m even more proud to be graduating as a Wildcat. “To our school we will be ever true. And through the years, support the Har-Ber blue.”