Senior year has a way of amplifying everything, and it comes with a set of expectations I didn’t realize I had been carrying, until now that I sit down to type this. People say it should feel overwhelming, bittersweet, and heartbreaking. They tell you that leaving high school is the end of something irreplaceable. I’ve watched seniors return to Charles M. Russell High School long after graduation, they’d tag along their old clubs, visiting the teachers they once knew so well, all of them holding onto routines they could no longer fully be part of. I expected I would feel the same way. I thought leaving would be like losing something I could never get back.
The reality is different. I care about leaving, and I know I will miss CMR. Running every day after school with my cross country team, having long chats with Ms. Britton in room 326, and waving to all of my favorite people in the hallways. I will miss the community that supported me, challenged me, and shaped me over the years. But if I’m being honest, I mostly feel a quiet excitement for what comes next, and I don’t want to feel guilty for that. Leaving is supposed to be a step forward. It is a chance to grow, explore, and discover things about myself that I cannot see while standing in these same classrooms. Observing those returning seniors made me realize something about myself: I don’t want to be them. And I don’t need to be. I can care deeply about what I am leaving behind and still feel ready to move forward. Excitement does not erase appreciation.
Throughout the years I’ve checked off practically every classic high school bucket list item. I got a high school sweetheart, I got away with skipping class…unless you count the time Mr. Olson caught me sophomore year, and I tried out as many clubs as I could. Looking back, it’s funny to think about it all, but it also reminds me that this is what high school is all about. I’ll take those memories with me, not as a source of sadness for what’s ending, but as part of the excitement of everything still ahead.
It has been one of my proudest chapters at CMR. I served as Editor-in-Chief of the newspaper club, guiding student journalists, editing articles, and helping our team find its voice. I ran cross country all four years, pushing myself through early morning practices, long runs, and countless races. I competed in track and field for three seasons, found a second family with my sports teams, explored new challenges and celebrated small victories. I also tried out several other clubs and activities, seeking new experiences and ways to contribute to the school I loved. These accomplishments are part of what makes leaving feel significant, but they also remind me that I am ready for what comes next.
Graduation is no longer a far-off idea. It is a real date on the calendar circled in red. A cap and gown is merely months away, and a reminder that life is about to expand in ways I can only imagine. For many seniors, that expansion feels overwhelming. For me, it feels familiar. I have been preparing for this transition for years, even when I did not realize it at the time. Since my junior year, my parents have been helping me think about the future, even when I did not want to. They pushed me to picture not just the schools I might attend, but who I wanted to become. We spent nights watching college tour videos, talking through my interests, and exploring what different careers and lifestyles could mean. At the time, it was stressful. I was not ready to think that far ahead. I wanted to stay in the present, in the familiar. Now, I am grateful. Those conversations put me in a position where I feel prepared, confident, and ready to take my next steps.
I find myself focusing on what is ahead. And like I said, sometimes I feel a little guilty for these feelings, and I understand the familiarity is comforting, but I also think it is OK to leave without sadness. Feeling ready and excited does not make me ungrateful.
My perspective comes from moving a lot growing up. As a military kid, I learned early that home is not a single place. It is something you build wherever you are. Every time we moved, I had to find a new group of people, a new routine, a new sense of belonging. It was not always easy, but it taught me that leaving something behind does not have to be frightening. It taught me that the world is bigger than one school, one city, or one group of friends. And it taught me that no matter where I go, I can find a place for myself and people I resonate with.
So this goodbye does not feel like an ending. It feels like momentum. High school was an important chapter, but it was never meant to be the whole story. The expectations said I should be sad, hesitant, or nostalgic in a way that weighs me down. The reality is that leaving is not something to mourn. It is something to embrace. And for me, that is exactly how I feel. Ready. And excited for what comes next, as I pursue my degree as a Journalism major my eyes stay locked on the future. Will I ever come back? No, I shouldn’t think so. But these memories will stay with me forever.
