// memory lane, kind of

I know I mentioned feeling trapped upon being home. But OH BOY I don’t think that compares to the feeling of walking into my old high school.

I feel like so many people view their high school days as memorable and awesome and smile when they think on them, but honestly I tend to view that time [with some exceptions] as a pitstop, an obstacle course, a chapter of a book that you know you really won’t open again [my deepest apologies to those poor books I’ve forsaken over the years ],: ].

That being said, I found myself there on a Monday, a 20 minute zen-like bike trip later, making my way downtown, walking fast, faces past  through the hallways, trying to avoid the young-uns and some teachers… I was there to give a little snippet about a summer program I had done when I was a junior in high school to the potential candidates of this particular German class, and to update my amazing German teacher on all of the German-related college things I was picking up.

I also stopped by my old choir classroom, where the top choir was rehearsing. I saw a few familiar faces and enjoyed witnessing a rehearsal of an acapella cover of a Star Wars score medley, but then I realized I was making myself feel old and kind of like I had no life, so I left pretty much after that [when do you legit stop visiting your old high school? I think I’ve hit that point so I’m just gonna….not anymore, you feel me? Lol].

When I left, I realized a couple things:

  • I don’t know how I would feel being a teacher, as I’d often aspired to be. You’re in a school for the rest of your life… but at the same time, you do get to teach something you’re passionate about and help some kids along the way. And if that’s something that makes you happy, it’s totally worth it.
  • The inevitable self-growth I’ve experienced.
  • High schoolers are reaaaaally Or maybe that’s just me. But I feel like I was a lot more chill than the ones I got to indirectly observe for 3 hours.
  • I only really had a few core-experiences in high school, classroom-wise. English, German, and Choir. I feel like those classes summed up my development and self-growth in that time.
  • There are people EVERYWHERE and because I’m short I’m pretty sure I blend right in.

I thought about this on my ride home.

Sometimes I think it helps to have experiences like this. Whether it’s hanging around an unnecessarily long amount of time at your old high school or coming home and hitting a mental brick wall of cognitive dissonance that blatantly points out the fact that where you started is by no means where you have ended up. For that, I’m thankful.

I got a snapshot of who I was, and an image that is slowly focusing in on where I’m going.

I also got a hell of a workout.


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