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Class of ’27: Next In Line


It indeed is a bittersweet feeling standing at the edge or everything you have ever known, knowing your time to step off of it is coming closer than ever. As the class of ‘26 gets their college acceptances, it is incredibly daunting to know that I am going to be next—in their steps, applying to colleges, writing essays, dreaming of a future that is mine to take if I work hard enough. 


The image of my 8-year old self, wide-eyed and imaginative, watching college move in vlogs and acceptance reaction videos is still so vivid in my mind that It is impossible for me to acknowledge that it was so long ago. In my head, the idea of me even thinking about applying seemed like a distant future that I am now living in. It is unbelievable, yet It would be wrong to dismiss the slight pride I feel in coming this far. I had imagined myself—at this stage, going into my last and final year of highschool—to have looked more older, mature, but I still feel like the same child that thought the SAT was the most frightening thing in the world. 


Every single moment that comes forth this year is probably going to be my last. There will never be a next April 15th where I have to look forward to going to school the next day. I am now in the moments of my life that I will look back when I'm older and wish for me to have stopped worrying to have just lived in the present. I suppose there is no need to worry about growing up too soon because she must be much older than I can ever imagine.


I have spent so long waiting for life to begin—somewhere in college, where life appears to be much bigger than what I am used to. In the process, I may have treated my present as something passing and temporary. But then again, the present is always going to feel like it's slipping away with the past being something you yearn to return to and the future you urge to reach. 


Grounding yourself in the present is much harder than it sounds. It is an uncanny feeling where you are alive in moments that you don't will soon become memories. I am standing at the edge, and the drop looks steep. But instead of staring at the distance, I’m choosing to look at the ground beneath my feet while it's still there. This year will be a series of 'lasts,' yes—but it is also a collection of 'onlys.' Only this April, only this hallway, only this version of me. The future will take care of itself; today, I think I’ll just try to be the girl my younger self was so excited to meet.

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