The past seems unreal — even if I’ve lived it.
I remember seeing the world from my dad’s shoulders, when he would bear my weight, carry me when I was tired. I would look up at him with “puppy eyes” that he does not fall for anymore. The big friendly giant that my father once played make-believe does not seem as big or as giant anymore. Now, I am stuck somewhere in-between reading Runny Babbit and paying my own bills.
At one point in time, I would think ice cream for lunch was superior to eating veggies, but now vegetables aren’t as bitter; I would play monkey bars but now my feet stand firm on the wood chips and sand; I would sing along to Ed Sheeran on the radio from my booster seat, but soon I will grip the steering wheel alone; I would think coffee was disgustingly bitter when now it is a daily necessity. Everything has changed.
In elementary school, classic picture books — Shel Silverstein, Dr. Seuss, Roald Dahl — would line the shelves in my room, but now they are filled with SAT prep books, complex literary novels and textbooks. Nobody chooses my outfit or ties my shoes anymore. After recess, I would return to the same classroom everyday instead of navigating through the hallways of a 60-acre campus.
Walking out of school this semester, I see eighth graders tour the same school that I once wandered around as a middle schooler myself. Just as quickly as I arrived at this school, it feels like I’m closer to leaving.
I regret not making the most of the present. Like myself, many high schoolers believe their lives are over without acceptance into college — a single result that dictates everything — or at least that is what we are led to believe. The more I struggled to keep up with my seemingly-infinite amount of responsibilities, the less I accepted that this was truly my reality.
Activities that I enjoyed began turning into burdens, and academic curiosity turned to endless studying. The “maturity” that came with growing up ceased my ability to enjoy a given moment; I am still struggling to grasp it.
Society’s growing expectations lead high schoolers to develop faster in a world where childhood is already a sliver of our time. Why do we want to grow up so fast? What started as an opportunity turned to an obligation: students are expected to balance their attendance at an 8:25 a.m. to 3:25 p.m. job alongside homework, athletics, extracurriculars and more work. Having a moment of rest feels like a crime. Your friends turn into competitors on a racetrack to the future.
Instead of focusing on the stressors of high school life, students need to slow down their process — no given moment will control the rest of your life. Keep your whimsical outlook, do not be afraid to remember happy things and revisit them. The present, inner child within me is an ice cream connoisseur who has just as much of a sweet tooth as before; even though my favorite flavor has changed from cotton candy to olive oil, ice cream will always bring me that simplistic, pure joy of childhood.
