"Shaking Hands and a Heavy Heart" by Laney McDowell

I’ve spent the last month avoiding this piece because I didn’t know how to start it, which is ironic because if there is anything I’ve learned in the last four years it’s that starting is the only way to begin. There is no perfect way to start this article and no right or wrong subject to talk about, so there is also no reason why I shouldn't just start typing and see what I have to say.

I honestly can’t believe that freshman year me and senior year me are the same person. Four years ago this school felt so big, not only in the physical way but in the way that I had so much life to live inside of it. I miss that, the feeling of something starting instead of something ending. I know that I could look at graduating as the start to something new (high school musical reference completely intended), but I can’t. I honestly don’t really feel anything but sadness when I think about walking across the stage, which I know is also sad. However, the reason I feel that way is because I’m happy with the person I've become. 

Four years ago I decided not to audition for the school musical after hours of contemplating it, because long story short, I was scared. What of, I don’t know, but that girl is the same one who ended up auditioning two years later and regained a spark she thought had burned out. My 9th grade self also considered joining SPARK, but didn’t end up in a meeting until last year. Also last year, the version of me as an eighth grader who was too nervous to audition for a solo in front of her 20 choir classmates, sang in front of the entire school at a massive assembly. What sudden burst of confidence hit me my junior year, I have no idea, I’m just grateful it did. I’m afraid I will lose the part of myself that does scary things because I know that I didn’t find that confidence entirely on my own. 

The only reason I have the courage to stand on stage, join new clubs, or put myself out there, is because of all the people who have believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself. There have been amazing teachers whose lessons I will take far beyond the classroom and friends who took small risks of their own, that I will be forever grateful for. 

To the girl who asked me to sit with her in AP Lang, thank you for always making me feel included. To the soon to be college sophomore who got randomly placed next to me in government and economics, thank you for never failing to make me smile. To the people who have watched me cry and fall asleep in the presence of AP Pre-Calc, thank you for being the reason I never gave up. To the 7th grader that got stuck with the new girl, thank you for staying by my side. To the teacher who pushed me outside my comfort zone, thank you for helping me rediscover a love I had lost. To the friend who can always tell when something is wrong, thank you for making me feel seen and cared for, even when I try to hide. To the person behind the most texted number on my phone, thank you for always telling me it will be okay, no matter how many times I say it won’t be. To every single person who has been a part of my story, thank you for helping me begin. 

So maybe it's okay that I can’t see graduation as a new beginning. Maybe it’s good to feel the weight of the ending and be sad to leave people, places, and parts of myself behind. I will walk across my last high school stage just as I stepped on my first one, with shaking hands and a heavy heart, but also with a sense of excitement of what is to come when I shake off the fear. There is no perfect way to transition into the future, but just like writing this piece, you can’t figure out where the words go unless you put them on the page.