Dear Graduating Class

6 Jun

Dear graduating class,
I’ve grown up with most of you guys for thirteen years. I can still remember how you looked on our first day of kindergarten — scared, some of you crying, but still so excited. I can remember all of us walking through the hallways of our elementary school, counting down the days until we graduated high school. It seemed so far away back then.
I remember our fifth grade graduation — by that time we had all pretty much gotten ourselves situated with the people we still call our best friends. Even though we weren’t all friends anymore, we cried together, promised to keep in touch. And of course, we did all that crying for nothing. We all went to middle school together — or at least a lot of us. And I watched you guys grow then, too, just as you watched me. I watched your denim-skirts-and-leggings phase as you watched my black-on-black-and-let’s-add-some-more-black phase. We watched each other’s most embarrassing phases, as we all tried to find ourselves through middle school. And then eighth grade graduation, in our half-finished gym, ended in tears and more promises to keep in touch (most of which never got fulfilled).
And we were awkward freshmen together, and then we became somewhat less awkward sophomores. By junior year we’d pretty much figured ourselves out, and now — well, now we’re just glad to be done. It’s been a long thirteen years, guys. I’ll miss you all.


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