I Started High School Ten Years Ago.

I haven't blogged in forever.
 
And I promised myself that when I finally did blog, I would catch up on the summer - post highlights. Write about Boone. Finally pour my heart out about Libby Hill's closing in April.
 
Of course, that hasn't happened yet, and Chanelle brought it to my attention the other night that we started high school TEN years and two days ago.  August 11, 2003.
Let that sink in.
 
I've been thinking about that a lot over the past two days.
 
See, there are three times of the year where I get really emotional and my head becomes filled and overwhelmed with thoughts and goodbyes and nostalgia and I just want to get it all out through written word.
 
It happens in May, August, and right after Christmas.
 
August is always really hard because I hate to see summer go, I'm anxious about the coming school year (it'll be that way forever, haha), and I just start to think about everything. Everything there is to think about comes into my head and I can't get it out.
 
 
[So expect a lot of writing from me over the next couple weeks.]
 
 
But back to the high school thing.
 
 
Since I remember literally everything, I remember being scared to pieces for high school.
I will always consider 8th grade to be one of the very best years of my life, and I had a sneaky feeling 9th could never live up to that amazing year. So I was already mentally prepared.
I wasn't being negative, just realistic.
High school was going to be SO different.
 
I wasn't ready to leave my comfort zone. I wasn't ready for a block schedule or scantron tests or carrying all my books around on my tiny back all day with no locker break.
I wasn't ready to be around the big kids.
 
I wasn't ready to leave the comfortable nest that was middle school. 
And nothing could've prepared me for what was coming.
So I did what I'm doing now (some things never change).
 
But on the first day of school, I put on my orange tunic, my denim skirt, and my good luck straw wedges and decided I was ready for whatever was coming. Because ready or not, it WAS coming.
 
 
And let me tell you, I learned and grew so much in those four years. I found a love for literature, football, the French language, getting my Jeep dirty, people outside my "social circle," and deepened my love for art.  My faith was tested over and over again, but every minute of it made me who I am.
 
 
It was in 11th grade that I decided I wanted to become a teacher.  I had the most wonderful American Lit. teacher, and I was so inspired by her and by the books that we read. My mind was blown.
I want to be just like her as a teacher.
 
I had the absolute hardest time leaving the place. How hard was it going to be to not be around all of my friends every single day? College scared me more than anything else had ever scared me.
 
I cried and cried all the weeks leading up to graduation. 
The school that had scared me so much when I was 14 had become a safe haven for me. A place where I met friends, laughed til I cried, got bad grades, got great grades, cheered at football games, played the class clown, played pranks, got my heart broken by boys only to come out stronger and better, shared my faith, had my faith tested, decided to become a teacher, learned important things, and fostered friendship bonds that would last me for the rest of my life.

I wouldn't trade those four years for ANYTHING.
 
So when Chanelle posted a status about us starting high school ten years ago this week, it kind of all just came back to me like a flood of memories.
All of that started ten years ago?
 
By now, I could've been teaching high school for two years already. But I spent five years in undergrad, and decided to do grad school before teaching.
 
But people always shudder when I say I want to teach high school. I look sixteen for Pete's sake.
Yes, I know, it's a huge risk. Teaching high school, for me, will be a huge risk. It might even seem dumb to some people.
 
"How are you gonna do that? You look so young."
 
I'm going to let God work through me, because I feel like teaching high school is what He has called me to do, at least for a little while. Not forever maybe.
 
And if that is what He is truly calling me to do, He won't let me fail.
He will walk and talk through me, and I'll be okay.
 
 
I have a special spot in my heart for high schoolers.  They need molding just as much as the little ones do.  I am who I am partly because of teachers who took the time to care for me in high school.
 
So that's what I'm gonna do. I started high school ten years ago, and hopefully I'll be starting again in January, Lord willing.
 
Back to high school I will go!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
eBa
 
 
 


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