On my first day of school, I feel a tingling in my fingers as I search through my closet for my black dress. I usually wear this gloomy-colored attire to funerals, but this dress will not witness any melancholy tears or expressions of farewell today. Bolles, my high school, carries an abiding tradition of letting the senior women wear black dresses with tiaras while the men adorn themselves with black ties. At last, we proceed through our first rite of passage as the class of 2008.
While I honor this tradition, I can finally claim that senior year is no longer knocking. It has entered the threshold of my life. I carry a tangle of emotions and some ambivalence about the upcoming year.
On the positive side, I am a senior. I can’t help but feel pride as I trot through the halls of Bolles. Relief pours through my mind because I know that I survived all of the other years of academic pressure with my friends. I am almost done with high school! A year from now my obsession with my eventual college destiny will no longer encompass my thoughts, and I shall be free from the stress of dealing with such a concept.
I realize now, however, that I actually have to prepare my applications. At last, all of the work displayed in my transcript and résumé will finally represent who I am to my colleges of choice. I anxiously fear that the admissions officers of my first-choice colleges will reject my plea for admission.
Furthermore, my stress level will receive the ultimate test while I try to tackle six AP classes, manage my clubs, and pursue my interest in music. With all of this on my mind, I just hope that I can squeeze sleep into my schedule.
Still, as I look at myself in my black dress and tiara, I suddenly realize that the dress is actually witnessing another farewell, a different kind of farewell. I am beginning to say goodbye to my adolescence. As I look around and see my friends, standing so proud in their black attire, I come to a heavier conclusion: In a year, our relationships will drastically change as we face new chapters of our lives. With this thought in mind, I feel my strongest emotion, sadness. One phase of my life is ending with no promise of ever coming back. However, this occasion carries no resemblance to a funeral. Instead, it is a celebration full of promising hope for the new generation to fly into the world.