Leaving Boulder High, I am as filled with goodbyes as I am filled with hopes for the students of next year. For every month, I have an abundance of memories and events that have made me the senior that I am leaving the school as, incredibly different from the freshman that I entered Boulder High as, back in the Fall of 2021.
August. A month of new shoes, new friends, and new experiences. I remember the anxiety of finding my new classes and making sure I get to places on time, and the fun that I had in the first days of getting to know my fellow students. I hope for next year’s students to learn how to walk at an acceptable pace in the halls within the first month of the school year and continue to do so.
September. A month of transition, heading into fall and settling into the school year. Everything looks so far away from there. I remember thinking that the school year would never end, as it’s just getting started. I hope for next year’s students to foster helpful relationships that build upon who they are as people.
October. A month of mourning for summer, yet excitement for what’s to come. Spooky and scary don’t just describe Halloween, but can describe some teachers’ midterms as well. I remember fun group costumes and dressing up for school, hoping to see my teachers expressing the joy of the holiday as well. I hope for next year’s students to think of unique Halloween costumes that reflect their passions and interests, not just with an attempt to please others.
November. A month of hoping that it will be December soon. Students don’t notice how few weeks are left in the semester. I remember spending all of my Novembers planning and preparing for the spring semester, not realizing that I still had to finish the fall one. I hope for next year’s students to learn from their mistakes and strive to be better in whatever they do.
December. A month of cramming and exams, yet one of happiness and first lasts, last firsts. Everything still looks so far away from there. I remember thinking that finals would never end and feeling a flood of relief after every exam. I hope for next year’s students to prioritize themselves and their mental health and not fall under the pressure of being perfect all the time.
January. Another month of winter and beginning again. Our two weeks off never seem to be enough. I remember the overwhelming hope that I won’t get that much homework on the first day back, usually met with more homework than I would ever want. I hope for next year’s students to embrace change and transformation, being open to learning more about themselves during these challenging years of their lives.
February. A month of all too much crammed into it. The groundhog gives out more winters than early springs. I remember February rushing by all too quickly, getting all too close to the middle of the semester all over again. I hope for next year’s students to embrace self-love above any other form of love, as it is through loving yourself that you can learn to love another person.
March. A month of looking forward to the next break. Quarter three wraps up, and the countdown to the end of the school year approaches lower and lower numbers. I remember the exhausting yet rewarding weeks before spring break. I hope for next year’s students to have fun, even when they feel like they could never have fun in school. Just try.
April. A month full of test prep and seemingly nothing else. PSAT, SAT, CMAS, and AP. Too much to study, and too little time. I remember every week feeling like checking another box, finalizing another school year. I hope for next year’s students to embrace their struggles and try their best in everything they do.
May. A month of goodbyes and good weather. Here we end the school year, and the memories we created. I remember every May feels as bittersweet as the last, leaving people behind while looking to the future. I hope for next year’s students to remember that the memories they create here will last a lifetime.
Congratulations to the Class of 2025, and I hope for next year’s students to embrace their time as high schoolers, as we can only be high school students once in our lives, even though that “once” feels like forever in the moment.
