It shocks me to think

It shocks me to think that I’ve (almost) completed another year of school.  I remember sitting in my eighth grade history class last year, writing a letter to my future self around the same time of year.  I remember it so vividly…all the people I was sitting with, the classroom I was in, the sounds in the room, the smell of the room.  Everything was so clear in my head.  And now, opening my eyes, I’ve realized that yes, another year has gone by since that memory and everything I remember from was so long ago.  

It shocks me to think back to that first day I walked into my dorm.  I was trying to find my room, yes! 204.  Then going back to the car, and then getting lost because there were confusingly two staircases in my dorm.  I think back to all the confusion I felt…to my first dorm meeting where I met my house counselors and my prefects.  The tension that boiled in the room, the nervous twiddling of the thumbs. I remember that so clearly, but for some reason, it feels like a more distant memory.  Perhaps this is because none of the nervous, jittery feelings I felt with those people, I would feel today.  

It shocks me to think that I’m sitting here, at my computer right now, two hours before the final dance of the school year! I remember talking about all the dances in the fall term with my friend, thinking about what I’d wear, and only imagining what they’d be like.  Thinking what the vibes would be like, what photos we’d take, who I’d dance with.  I remember feeling nervous about these all school dances! There were kids who were up to five years older than me and I thought I’d feel inexplicably young.  And now, with the snap of my fingers, all these dances I’d been looking forward to at the beginning of fall term are almost over.    

It shocks me to think that I may never live with the people in my dorm again.  That we’ll never be one entirety again, living together.  A couple months ago, I couldn’t imagine who else I’d be living with…it felt like my dorm and I, we were forever.  But now, as I’m facing my lower year, I’m facing the realities of, wow, I will probably never be living with all of these people again and I’ll be meeting so many new people.  It’s almost as if each year at Andover is a new year, since there are new classes, new people, new dorms compositions etc.  

It shocks me to think that another season of tennis has already finished.  I remember my season last year with BB&N, and going out for team dinners and the long evening practices until 7.  Last year’s season felt much longer, starting out driving to Winchester to get to the club.  This year, tennis season passed with the snap of my fingers.  Those 90 minute tennis practices that turned into 90 minute laugh sessions with my friends.  The intense matches, where we barely pulled leads.  All those various warm-ups with did, and coping with the varying weather.  Wow, I think now, another season of tennis is over.  

It shocks me to think that I’m almost done with my freshman year of high school and it scares me to realize how much has happened in this one year and how recent all of it felt.  

How genuine happiness manifests

This week has been perhaps one of the biggest emotional roller coasters I’ve been on this week with the most variation.  Sunday and Monday were marked by guilt, anger, and stress from my social life.  Tuesday cooled down a bit as did Wednesday and marked two neutral days this week.  Thursday lightened up since I only had one class that entire day and today, Friday, was wicked fun and leaves me smiling thinking about it. 

Sunset tonight

I must admit I’m one relentless tryhard when it comes to reflection.  It’s even reflected through my tennis game; I stop and reflect on my successes and my failures throughout the game.  I like to reflect while I walk around campus.  At boarding school, I’ve been doing a lot of walking everyday, and during these walks, I check in with myself.  I try to think positively about what happened that day, especially on days where it seems like nothing is going right.  

Truth is, I’ve been chasing positivity.  I’ve found this gets me nowhere close to genuine happiness.  As I was walking back from the WQN Field Night after stopping by the Den to chat with some friends, I realized that true happiness doesn’t need to be reflected on to be felt; it’s there…and I don’t have to intentionally acknowledge.  I’ve been told by my friends that my emotions are very easy to read.  Happiness finds its way into the tone of voice I use when I talk, my posture, the pace at which I walk. Happiness in its truest and rawest form manifests both mentally inside me, but also physically.  

Tonight, I’m truly happy.  In the past, I’ve written about how small things added up are what makes me happy.  I scored well on my math and french tests.  I won my singles tennis match after a long mental battle.  The WQN Field Night was a memorable experience and it’s a night I want to remember from freshman year.  Hundreds of kids showed up on the Great Lawn, the most people I’ve ever seen on the lawn at one time.  I also learned how to play two signature games at PA: spikeball and 9 square.  These are two games that are played spiritually at Andover, as its embedded in our culture.  And what made me smile most was being able to play with kids who I usually didn’t interact with except in class.  In fact, my friends weren’t even there…it was just me and forming relationships with kids who I usually only knew through class.  

There are random things that make my life just a little bit brighter.  Most of them are in my control, but others are not.   I remember during my walks around campus, checking boxes off my mental checklist, thinking that would make me happy.  I thought somehow checking off piano practice, done, math homework, done, english paper, done, would bring me happiness and I tried to focus on what I’d completed that day for happiness.  In retrospect, I realize how much of a workoholic that made me.  However, I’ve come to this conclusion about happiness: focusing on positivity will overall bring more happiness into my life.  However, genuine happiness does not need to be felt through reflection; it manifests itself physically and mentally in an array of manners.  I don’t even have to try to feel it.  It’s just there.  After all, some days are just better than others.  

Why do we need straws?

Last week, I received an email from a parent in response to an article I’d written for the Commentary section of The Phillipian.  I’d written an article about climate change and how the US’s efforts compare to Europe’s in being environmentally conscious.  In the email I received, a link was shared about plastic straws.  This short video expresses the relevancy of straws in American dining, but challenges the real purpose of straws and weighs whether the consequences of incorrect disposal are worth the convenience. 

http://www.strawsfilm.com/

A week after watching the video, I’m still wondering, why do restaurants serve glasses with a plastic straw?  The boy in the video stated it beautifully: because we don’t want to lift the cup our face.  This reason sounded a little ridiculous at first, but I think there is truth in this statement.  While straws might make sense with someone with a neck injury, restaurants usually serve every drink with a straw, whether it be a glass of water, milk, juice, or soda.  It's a range, certain restaurants are certainly very conscious about their carbon footprint. However, it’s amazing how one little straw can affect terrestrial and aquatic life. In the video, a straw was caught in the nostril of a sea turtle.  It’s amazing how something that seems so irrelevant in our lives can affect aquatic life. 

There have been petitionings at local restaurants to stop serving drinks with plastic straws and in many instances this has been successful.  I don't think change has to be this large scale.  I think small commitments will also make an impact. I plan on telling the waiters at restaurants that straws won’t be necessary for our drinks.  Every straw we can save can make a difference.  The parents who emailed me also said in her household she uses glass straws, which are reusable.  Is it feasible for restaurants to use glass straws?  Afterall, why do we need straws? 

Do something everyday that scares you

Do something everyday that scares you. That’s what Eleanor Roosevelt wisely stated.  Frankly, I struggle to step outside of my comfort zone, and I tend to muse over situations for a while before making them.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more introspective than when I was younger.  Perhaps this is natural with age but I've become better at thinking things over than when I was younger.  I’m not as blunt as I used to be and my actions are more reserved.  

Yesterday, I went outside at night for a walk and some boys in my class were playing basketball by our cluster deans house.  I usually don’t hang out with these people, and there have been innumerable times I’ve passed them playing, yet just walked by.  It was different yesterday.  A goal of mine for next year is to be more relaxed, or “chill” as they say, and I believe I will be able to forge more friendships.  One of the boys made a beautiful three-point shot, and instead of walking right past the court, I stopped and acknowledged the shot.  It was a pretty simple acknowledgement.  I shouted, “Hey! Nice shot!”  

In the blur of the event, that was the most frightening moment; shouting something out and being in that insecure position of not knowing how my classmates would react.  I was half afraid they’d judge me, and the other half of me was afraid I would run away in cowardice.  Except none of that happened.  Well, maybe I was judged a little bit, but my classmates invited me to join casually.  And that’s how I ended up playing basketball on a 70 degree spring night at 10:30 PM in my cluster deans driveway.  It was exhilarating.  I haven’t touched a basketball in years, and at the same time, I got some pretty good laughs through being with these people.  

Do something everyday that scares you.  It’s difficult to describe the feeling that rippled through me.  It was an eccentric mix of cowardice, tension, anxiety, and excitement.  Nevertheless, I got some good big belly laughs, and I learned that I just have to try to step out. It's also a great conversation opener.  I’m a broken record.  I’ve written about appearing more relaxed before, but it’s hard when my personality, my style, and my conduct gives off vibes of being strict with myself.  Perhaps it’s time to start cherishing that giddy feeling that permeates when I do step out of my comfort zone.  

Do something everyday that scares you.  

Why do we choose to struggle

Why do high schoolers put themselves through so much stress? Why do we do this when we could just go through life, doing as little as possible?  Why do high schoolers engage in so much activity all the time? I kept wondering this question throughout my week.  Why do we choose to struggle?  

I think it’s because exposure to struggle from an early age teaches people how to cope with struggle/stress/work later in life.  We choose to struggle because we know it will help us grow into more mature people.  We choose to struggle because it teaches us how to deal with problems later in the future.  My history teacher said to my class that while writing essays is important because it hones writing skills, a better reason to write essays is because going through the stress and the process helps an individual learn how they work best.  My teacher always says this to us when we’re given a major assignment, “you’ll thank me later.”  It’s almost more about figuring out ourselves.  

Struggle is also about the journey.  I like to think that high school is the next step from college which is the next step from entering the workforce.  There’s no one straight line through any of these areas and some people go through life letting just letting it happen. Others try too hard to make it tip one way or the other. My counselor told me this week to see each major step in my life as a playground for developing skills for the next level and that I should strive for a healthy equilibrium between letting life happen and controlling it with the utmost force.  To be free, to let go, to fail, to try again, to fail again, and to fail better, then to learn.  This is why many high schoolers choose to struggle.