As I write this article, I have only one week of school left. For a long time, I wanted the end of the year to get here faster. I couldn’t wait for the end of homework and speeches, and I looked forward to the freedom of summer. Honestly, those things haven’t really changed, but I’m starting to see the end of this part of my life in a new light.
I guess it started to dawn on me that after next week, I’ll be done with middle school. Not just done with one grade in middle school, but with the entire experience. Next year, I’ll be a high schooler. That fact is now starting to fully register.
For a long time, I looked to the next school year as a repeat of the last. We might learn some new things, but it will essentially be the same kids, same subjects, same routine. For me, the transition from one grade to the next just meant a new teacher, new hallway, and a new mash up of the same kids from last year. I liked the refreshing change, but I also took comfort in the knowledge that it was the same building, with the same people. It felt safe.
Next year, I’ll be thrown into the mix at a new building, with a new schedule, new activities, and new kids. I won’t go back to Germantown. That thought scares me, but at the same time, excites me. Every time I think about driving to school with my older sister in the morning, or marching on the field, or even sitting in math class, I get this little sting of adrenaline, a mix of fear and excitement.
The thought of change has always frightened me. So has the idea of ending one part of my life. I don’t like the thought that I am losing something that I will never get back. I don’t like to think that every day that passes is one that I will never live again. However, staring down the end of eighth grade, I find myself coming back to these thoughts. A whole chapter in my life is ending, and I will never be able to relive or get it back.
As scary as leaving behind middle school is, though, there is, at the same time, an enticing pull toward the future. When I think about high school, I picture playing in the band, sitting in Spanish class, practicing snare drum for marching band. The future is blurry, and uncertain, but I like the vague shapes that I see when I think about it.
I once heard someone say, “Don’t cry because it’s over, be happy because it happened.” I try to think of this when I leave behind a part of my life. Middle School, as stressful and annoying as it can be, will always be a part of my life, and one that I will remember. Instead of feeling glum because I’m leaving Germantown, I’m going to try to remember it in a good light.
Maybe I am leaving behind a chapter of my life. But I’m starting a whole new chapter by entering high school. I’m sure it won’t be easy, and I’ll probably find myself looking back on this time with envy. However, I’m glad that I had this time at all, and I know that I will remember it. This is merely the end of the beginning, and the beginning of everything else. See you next week!
“Reprinted from Hagel Publications, Inc. dba as Courier Newspapers”