Four Years

Dear Class of 2016,

I don’t like change. I don’t like moving, or losing friends, or getting rid of my books. The fact that the 13th street Freddy’s rearranged itself kind of stresses me out. I don’t like thinking about all of us being spread out all over the place.

But at the same time, endings mean new beginnings. Out with the old, in with the new. Every time you finish a book you can start a new one. (That being said, I’m the kind of person who reads like four books at one time instead of waiting to finish them because I am impatient.) When people leave your life, there is space for others to come in. And it’s not the same, no. But different doesn’t mean bad.

I think our class knows that. “We’re not the same, we’re different in a good way,” to quote High School Musical. We don’t mind joking about the difference in our backgrounds and talents. That being said, it’s not like we were shoved into a box. We were encouraged -- usually by each other -- to refuse to “stick the status quo,” whether that be the Troy Boltons in Singin’ in the Rain or the fact that Will and Ethan played basketball freshman year or Elise in Pirates of Penzance, and all sorts of other overlappings in clubs and activities. We were allowed to try new things and meet other people who were different from us.

I’m so glad we’re different. I’m glad we have Keri, who’s funny and a great writer; Sarah, who’s organized and classy and optimistic; Emery, who’s good at soccer and makes us laugh in Stats; Kaleigh -- both Kaylees, Kris, Claire, Mitchell and Hannah and Lulu and Josh and Ashlyn and Tarrance and Lexi and Caleb and I can’t keep naming everyone, I don’t have time.

I remember listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack with Ellen in Mr. Grissom’s class freshmen year and wanting to be her friend -- funny how things work out. I remember sitting in the sound booth during Intro to Theater with Abby Grier and Will Morris. I remember the limo ride to freshman year homecoming with a super random group with our music blasting, shaking off our slightly nervous anticipation of our first high school dance. I remember jumping on the big, bouncy mattress that made up Antarctica at Homecoming, and giggling every time Jost or Mr. Brewer walked past, terrified that we would get in trouble. I remember Romeo and Juliet vividly, of course.  I remember… well, perhaps I shouldn’t confess to sleeping in Biology. I remember staying up late working on the Around the World Day skit in Julia’s front yard. Everyone said freshmen always get last, and we -- in a spirit of rebellion that stuck with us through the years -- obviously had to prove them wrong. We succeeded and didn’t get fourth place once that week, quite possibly out of pure determination.

Sophomore year rolled around with far more angst and homework. Mrs. B’s desserts and prayers got us through chemistry tests, Algebra II, and Red Badge of Courage. I think maybe six people in the whole class of 2016 actually read that book. Props to those six, because I didn’t make it. It was a rough year, academically, relationally, mentally. But we made it out, kids. We survived. And not everything was bad. I am so grateful for sixth hour apologetics, for curling up with blankets and talking about everything from boys to God to hell to homework to creation to dress code rules. I am so grateful for the chance to be open and real and to build relationships with that totally random but wonderful group of girls. It was relaxing and renewing and fabulous. I'm grateful for getting to live my childhood dream and dance in the "Marian the Librarian" number. (What can I say? It’s my two favorite things -- libraries and musicals.) Also, I’m told sports were really good that year. Congrats.

Junior year, for me at least, didn’t start out with much hope. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have come back if it hadn’t been for the Bible class sophomore year and the friends I’d made through it. But junior year surprised me, a lot. Philosophy was challenging and fascinating. Mr. Mueller obviously won us over without much struggle. Mr. Hendley’s enthusiasm about pre-calc was very nearly contagious -- don’t worry, I wasn’t infected. We had the first Poetry Slam, which was brilliant and full of talented poets. Pirates of Penzance was incredibly fun -- swooning over Will as the sisters, laughing offstage during the “Sighing Softly to the River” as the Pirates interpretively danced across the stage, learning four-part harmonies, and having that marvelous, wonderful cast. We downright killed Spirit Week that year, with Abby and Ethan singing “Don’t Stop Believin’” and our Finding Nemo skit and Holywood and Les Miserables. And then prom was the bomb.com. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that we were a lot more mature and confident and willing to have fun. And Grant Boesen was an amaaaazing DJ. A Little Knight Music was brilliant, with the Jared and Co. singing “Crocodile Rock” and Maddie and Ellen soloing in “Mama Who Bore Me.” Those were so good.

And then this year… Golly.

This year is over. This year, with the ridiculously long bus ride back from senior trip, with the utterly amazing Man of La Mancha, with our senioritis-filled AP Stats class. With questions and college applications and choices. We had cookie time, bonfires, Government and Music Theory -- well, I guess that last one only applies to three of us. The rest of you missed out. This year, with papers and theology and seeing the end of our time in uniforms and choir dresses and sports uniforms (jerseys? Guys, in four years you’d think I would have learned this stuff.)

This year, back where we began, with Mrs. Posson and Mr. Grissom. There’s something very poetic about that, about coming full circle.

I want to thank you, class of 2016.

Thanks for being there, together, through the good times and the bad.

Oh, we didn’t -- don’t -- always get along. No. But no one always gets along. I’m sure even Elise and Sarah must disagree sometimes.

But we did it. We made it through.

Thanks for growing up a little, and for letting me grow up with you.

Thanks for letting me go from the shy, annoyed, culture-shocked girl I was to the girl I am now.

Thanks for helping me be brave, whether that be by dancing (badly) at homecoming or trying a sport (also badly). Thanks for letting me come to your houses, for listening to me talk about books that you don’t care about, for helping me with homework, for making me laugh when I’m grumpy, for inspiring and challenging me. Thanks for being good at things that I’m not, for putting up with me when I’m being a know-it-all, for including me in everything from picnics to Ultimate Frisbee to movie nights to swimming. Thanks for the food, and laughter, and memories that last forever.

I'll miss so many little moments. Late night tea at Kris's house and talking about everything. Laying on Devin's trampoline with eight people and two blankets until three in the morning. Poetry nights. Third hour off and doing homework and lunch with my favorite people. Screaming when "Jenny" comes on at prom. Going to lunch with Julia, Kellie, Emery, and Kaylee. Praying with Abby before every show -- texting or calling each other when we're in different shows. Hanging out in the catwalk or sound booth with Hailey. Laughing at Maclaine's quick wit. Voice lessons with Mrs. Henderson. Dance parties in Newspaper. Cuddling in sixth hour apologetics. Falling out of Maddie's truck. Hearing Tarrance sing. Staying up late and talking with the M&M girls in our crazy hot cabin in Nicaragua. Bonding with David over The Name of the Wind. Quik Trip walks. Pranking Mrs. Posson. Hearing Mrs. Warren's stories at swim meets.

It's been four years of papers, of late nights, of math homework and Netflix and friendships and musicals and spirit weeks.

Four years of learning about myself and about other people.

I've loved the parties and the trips and classes (well, some of them).

But this group of people I have been privileged enough to call friends... They are what have made the tuition, the time, the tears worth it.

You’re a slightly rebellious, messy, random group of humans.

And I love you and am so thankful that this is the rebellious, messy, random group of humans I’ve spent the past four years with and now step into the future with.

Thanks for everything, fam.

You Can Take This as "Addi's Moving to New York!"

Next fall, I will be attending the King's College in New York City.

(Random fun fact: I am unable to hear/see the words "New York City" without then thinking, "Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?" Perhaps I should have a post about Hamilton in the future. Hmm...)

I'm a little scared, I'm not gonna lie. I'm scared to be that far away. I'm sad that it mean that I'll probably miss a lot of my siblings' shows or games or birthdays. I'm scared that I'll lose some of the friendships I have here. (And I know I'll lose a couple... but still. I hate the idea.) I'm scared about silly things like having to remember my phone number without Holly's help or remembering directions or not being able to ask Mom to double check my papers (actually, I'll probably still email her my papers). I'm scared that I'll get lost in the bigness of the city and the people. Not physically lost, but more like... forgotten, almost? I'm not sure how to describe this. I'm not sure if I even really know what I'm saying. Maybe we'll come back to it if I figure it out.

But I'm also so very excited.

I think I will be challenged at King's, and I want that. I'm ready for something that will be hard in a good way. Not in a "This is impossible and ridiculous and pointless" way, but a "this is new and hard and good and will make me a better person/student/writer/etc" way. Does that make sense?

I'm excited for the opportunities that come with King's and New York City. Whether that be seeing shows on Broadway -- which will be rare because I'm going to be sooo broke -- or joining a new club -- they have a swing dancing club, which sounds awesome, despite my lack of skill -- or internships at publishing houses, or studying abroad -- you can go to Oxford, for one. Yes, please.

I'm excited to live in New York City. I'm excited to live in the center of culture. I'm excited to have a tiny apartment and have to figure out how to decorate it. I'm excited to hunt down record stores and vintage boutiques in a new city. I'm excited for the independence that comes with moving away (which also kind of scares me, but it's fine).

I'm excited to meet new people. Like, do you ever think about how many people there are in the world? And that they all have different stories and interests and backgrounds and the idea of meeting more people just makes me really happy and also kind of fills me with social anxiety but you know, it's fine.

I'm excited to be a part of the House of Clara Barton (who won the House Cup this year, so that's a pretty good sign). I'm really glad the House System exists. I'm glad to know that there's a group of people who will have my back and be there for me, especially at first. Six or seven of the girls already followed me on Instagram and it made me feel really welcomed and happy.

I'm excited to see how God will use me in the next year/next four years/rest of my life.

I'm just excited to see what happens next.

Heck, I'm even excited for the business casual dress code, because I'm gonna wear vintage dresses all the time. (I actually am very interested to see how people make business-casual their own. Like, how do I combine business casual and indie grunge and vintage class? Is that even possible? I'm so excited it's ridiculous.)

I think it'll be worth it. Worth the fear and sacrifice. I know God has a plan, even if my plan only goes as far as moving day. It'll be good.

Anyway, now you all know.

Dear Fifteen-Year-Old Me,

Oh goodness. Freshman me. Just as awkward, far more innocent, so much more judgemental and insecure. Sweet, shy, ridiculous freshman me. Here are some things you should know:

-- Learn to love the States. I know you struggle with fitting in right now, and you struggle with anger towards most of the people in this country, but they know not what they do. They don't know about the people living under the caste system. They haven't experienced the crowds of Commercial Street or the monsoon season or pain of leaving your friends in a different country. They have not met the girls orphaned or abandoned in villages. They haven't sat through traffic for two hours in order to get to youth group. They will want a 30-second description of two years of your life, and you will want to hate them for that. I promise, I promise you it gets better. Remember: But for the grace of God, you could be where they are. The problems and blessings in the States will take a lot of re-learning, but they are there. Every country is flawed, every people group is flawed, and yet there is still beauty in all of them. It will take a while to feel like you belong here, and for that I am sorry.

-- Make good girl friends. And good guy friends. Just make friends. Be kind and don't prejudge people. The kids who annoyed you to no end sophomore might be your good friends senior year. Let them grow up. Heck, let yourself grow up.

-- Accept that no one is perfect. Not you, not your friends, not your teachers, not your parents. Everyone messes up, so give grace.

-- Don't just complain about things you dislike. Work on changing it if you can, and if you can't change it then suck it up and move on.

-- Sophomore year will be basically awful, but focus on the good things. Mrs. B, your new friends, dancing in the "Marian Librarian" scene, Jahn, The Name of the Wind, Newspaper, Concert Choir... It's not all bad. You'll grow and learn a lot this year, in spite of -- or really because of  -- the fact that it's mostly horrible.

-- Try new things. Do a sport. Try art. Let yourself be bad at things for the sake of learning. You might find out you love (and kind of hate) swimming or something.

-- Be silly and goofy. Don't worry about what people think. You'll be far happier if you just do what you want. Laugh at your mistakes and awkward moments. Store up embarrassing stories, because they make great ice breakers. Just accept that you are an awkward, clumsy human who can't do phone calls properly and spills everything and is just generally awkward.

-- Within the confines of the law and your parents' wishes, do crazy, stupid things. Be careful, but don't be fearful.

-- Don't get wrapped up in your friends' boy drama. Just don't. Be there for them, absolutely. But don't get sucked into the cycle of love and heartbreak.

-- Don't get wrapped up in your own boy drama. I don't mean "Swear off boys/dating completely." I mean, don't let youself become consumed by a boy at this point. Be wise. Pray through everything. Be cautious with whom you allow your heart. Some guys suck, and others just aren't right for you. It's okay to make mistakes, it's okay to try, it's okay for your heart to leap and for you to giggle with happiness after your first kiss or to cry after a breakup. But know who you are in Christ and know that no boy is perfect. None can "complete" you. Only Jesus can.

-- It's okay to let your friendships change over the years. It's okay to let go of people who aren't healthy for you to be around. Surround yourself with people who bring you joy and help you become a better person.

-- Embrace the geek within you. Own the fact that you play DragonVale and ship Dramione and listen to musicals about American history and read more than you work out and can quote Doctor Who and love Benedict Cumberbatch. Geek will be cool in a couple years. Or at least cooler. Well. At least not weird.

-- Your relationships are more important than your grades. Sometimes you need to get out and chill in Kris's basement or Ellen's backyard and just talk about stuff instead of doing a Government study guide. That being said, don't just blow off your grades completely. Turn off Netflix and do your math homework. Seriously.

-- Get Spotify asap. You will love it. Listen to all sorts of music and become somewhat familar with popular songs/dances. Dance parties are bonding experiences, and a decent Charleston can get you far in life.

-- Be grateful for the opportunities you get. Because you will have some fabulous opportunities. You will meet amazing people and be a part of amazing things and go amazing places. So take a moment and be thankful for them.

-- Get off your phone/computer/etc. sometimes. It's good for your soul.

-- Make your relationship with God a priority. Be a person after God's heart. "Improve your serve." This one actually takes you a long time to learn, but work at it. Love God, love people. Sounds simple, until you have to do Chemistry homework and memorize the presidents and make notecards for a research paper and work on musical stuff. Those things will alllll fade away, Addi. Christ and people will not.

-- Don't overcommit. Say no sometimes. It's good for you. It's hard, but it's good.

-- It's okay to cry during all movies ever. And all books. Which is good, because you do. Just go with it. If you're lucky, as cute boy will take pity on you and let you cry into his shoulder. (Just kidding. That never happens. You just cry alone over Harry Potter and eat ice cream.)

-- Do not place your value in your grades, your popularity, your talents, your looks, your likes on social media, your "spiritual-ness," or basically anything outside of the fact of knowing that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Don't fall into a comparison trap. Place your self-esteem in the fact that you are God's child and He has created you. Other's opinions of you -- and even your opinions of yourself -- will change, but God's love will not. I cannot even explain to you how important this is.

-- Don't ask boys what they're laughing about, especially if/when you're good enough friends that they'll actually tell you. You don't want to know. Trust me.