As I sit at my recently-fixed computer, staring out at the sunny day I'm missing, I'm thinking about graduation. In two short days, my baby brother will leave the halls of high school behind forever. .
I recently read this on his facebook page:
"Ben McClure hates when people talk about going from high school into the "real world." So the problems and struggles of the past 4 years weren't real? And everything from here on out is downhill? How can you possibly go through life thinking that the good part is over? High school was great, but it's time to move on to bigger and better things."
What was I, the artist formerly known as Lauren McClure, up to in May of 2005? I had really great friends; I had some perfect rounds as the captain of the Spell Bowl team; I nabbed a senior favorite spot for "Most School Spirit;" I was elected Class Secretary (which meant a white robe at graduation) and Student Council Historian; I was coming into my own with singing and writing; and my friend Jess had recently introduced me to the beauty of the flatiron.
I had the following dream schedule:
1-Library Worker
2-College U.S. History (with Dad)
3-AP English (my best subject)
4-Lunch (Yum)
5-Biblical Literature (with Dad)
6-Government/Economics (with Dad)
7-Show Choir
8-Choir Office
I had my favorite teacher three times a day, freedom during 1st and 8th period, an outlet for creative writing with a teacher who believed I could do anything, freedom from Physics, College Trigonometry and Pre-Calculus (got those out of the way my junior year), and an hour of song and dance.
In a journal entry written 5 and 1/2 (I was specific!) days before my graduation, I reflected on my senior year. The highlight was starring as Sabrina in our school's production of Sabrina Fair. The theater felt more like home to me than any room in that building.
In addition to detailing my emotions during that final bow, I discuss the show choir's Spring Spectacular and seeing New York City again. I was most decidedly still in love with it. I reminisced about my favorite prom moment, when the seniors made a circle and sang Vitamin C's "Graduation." In retrospect, it sounds cheesy, but it was a big moment.
My senior year was far and away my best year of high school, but it was far from the best year of my life.
Could someone give a girl a hand as I step onto this soapbox?
Seven years ago this week, I sang at my own commencement (in my white robe with my honor sash), received my high school diploma, and heard the ever-present, collective voice of downers say, "Welcome to the real world."
Had I unknowingly auditioned for MTV? Had I missed something? The world I'd been living in for four years seemed real enough to me--I'd walked through heartbreak, betrayal, depression so debilitating I could barely function, and watched one of my oldest and closest friends fight for her life after a car accident--all while dealing with the pressure of having everything to prove.
A line in that cheesy Vitamin C song says, "We talked all night about the rest of our lives, where we're gonna be when we turn twenty-five." Well, here I am, very much twenty-five, with good news. I do not subscribe to the belief that the best years of my life were behind me at eighteen years old. There is such freedom in being an adult. Yes, I am saddled with bills and responsibilities that I didn't have seven years ago, but you will never hear me long for the glory days of youth. High school should be enjoyed to the fullest while you are there and gracefully left behind once you go. I miss having all my friends in one place, the basketball games, hearing my dad's stories, and eating lunch for $1.75. I miss the feeling of being under the stage lights, and I really wish I would have known how skinny I was in time to enjoy it, but I wouldn't go back.
There is peace that comes with some distance from high school. Each year, I hope to become a little more comfortable with who I am. I have learned, with help from my mama, that it's alright for dreams to change. It's alright that the $40,000 scholarship to U.E. still wasn't enough. They lost me at communal bathrooms, anyway. It's alright that I'm not a writer at a magazine in Manhattan by day and Broadway baby by night. I write at home and live vicariously through the characters on Smash. I've also learned to enjoy the present while looking forward to what lies ahead. The last seven years saw me receive my college degree, take trips with my friends, marry my soul mate, touch Sir Elton John's hand, find strength I never knew I had, figure out a little more of God's plan for me, and develop brand new dreams while still holding onto some of my old ones.
So, Seniors of 2012, from me in the "real world" to you in the...fake world, please know that it is tough out here, but you will do just fine because it's tough in there, too.
"Keep on thinking it's a time to fly."
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