Dear present me,
It’s officially a week before your high school graduation, the day you dress up in that forest green wrinkly cap and gown with the white stole and walk across the stage in front of your entire class to grab your diploma.
The day that marks the first 12 years of your schooling—it’s finally coming to an end.
As I sit here in my sister’s bedroom writing this, I am overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions that I have had the honor of being able to relive throughout these past four years of high school. And boy, did I have some emotions.
I’ll never forget the first time I met my US History teacher in person. It was one of the most surreal experiences of my life; my freshman year was finally coming to fruition, and I finally met the man behind the screen, the man who gracefully led my Civics and Econ classes every day of ninth grade.
Or the time my Model UN advisor made us do the “Cha-Cha Slide” in class, or when I was running around the U of M campus late at night, or when I got to see a picture of one of our high school teachers when they were in high school.
Or all the times I got to walk in the parade for The Central Trend or attend MIPA conferences because of this very class.
Or the time I attended Homecoming for the first time my sophomore year and later went to Kitchen 67 in the middle of the night.
Those times will never be forgotten because they forever live on and on in my heart.
But what won’t be able to live on is the experience of getting to see my teachers every day. To get another homework assignment, test, quiz, or PowerSchool grade again. To have my newspaper advisor grade another story of mine. To give my history teacher another fistbump. To attend another Model UN conference or DECA competition.
I won’t be able to relive any of these experiences because now I find myself dreading the words that I have been putting off for so long; I’ll soon be an alumna of Forest Hills Central High School and no longer an attending high school student.
For so long, I always struggled to make sense of the words surrounding me and my world. But when I joined The Central Trend, I finally found a way to make a difference with my words.
For so long, I always struggled to make sense of the words surrounding me and my world. But when I joined The Central Trend, I finally found a way to make a difference with my words.
For some reason, the first day of sophomore year is the first thing that comes to mind when I think about our school newspaper and what we’ve been able to accomplish with it as staff.
I’ll never forget the energetic aura that The Central Trend was able to bring forth for me. It was the first day of sophomore year, and I had just come out of a year of online learning and wanted to make an impact with my words but didn’t know where to start. In joining The Central Trend—without a shadow of a doubt—I had found my innate passion for writing. My words weren’t just able to create a difference, but they were able to create a lasting impact.
And after 900 days of being on staff and writing over 100 stories, I can confidently say that I find reassurance in knowing that the impact I’ve made on Forest Hills Central through my words isn’t going anywhere.
So thank you, high school, for everything, because from here on out, you’re on your own, Arpita—you always have been.
Sincerely,
Present me
