Four years ago, Angry Birds was the most popular iPhone game. Tim Lincecum was the Giants Opening Day starting pitcher. Mitt Romney ran for president.
So yes, four years is a long time, certainly long enough for us to get involved with our school, to get to know it and to truly care.
I wish I had spent more time enjoying high school and less wishing it would go faster. More and more, I’ve grown to really like school. I’m surrounded by brilliant and hilarious classmates who are surprisingly tolerant of my strange election trivia. Not only are they helpful, but all of my teachers are caring people as well. And even when we get completely off-topic interrogating Ms. Kashani as if she is running for president or singing “Happy Birthday” to Charles Darwin, my classes have fascinating discussions. I finally understand calculus, and I even kind of like it.
But I didn’t always feel this way about school.
My best friend graduated from the Athenian School last year, and I always wished I could have gone there with her. The gym was packed for her Division V Senior Night basketball game. Almost 150 came to a cabaret show that featured 30 students, and I was jealous of how much all the students seemed to care. It seemed a far cry from my experience at PHS, especially during my first two years.
Sophomore year in particular, I really disliked school. I spent each class period watching the clock, willing its hands to move faster. I wasn’t engaged at all, and it was nobody’s fault but my own.
When junior year started, I couldn’t slide by so easily. My classes forced me to put in a lot more effort — and that wasn’t a bad thing at all. Increasing my investment in my classes meant that my teachers liked me more and knew me better, and I starting feel more comfortable at school. I made more friends, and I was a lot happier. My experience completely transformed, but the only tangible thing that’s changed is my mentality.
Sometime during junior year, I realized that class discussions get a lot more interesting when you’re actually paying attention. I’ve reclined through classes where lethargic students only raised their hands to buffer their participation grades, and I’ve perched on the edge of my seat in classes where half of us impersonated Hermione Granger in our eagerness to share our ideas. Not only did I learn more, but I had so much more fun in the classes where my fellow students are I were genuinely engaged. When we chose to care, the hour-and-a-half periods flew by.
My beloved summer camp director always challenged us to get out of our comfort zones by undertaking long hikes, becoming friends with everyone, and feeding the pigs (which was terrifying simply because it smelled so bad). As he always told us, “You get outta camp what you put into camp.” Even without the stench of rotting garbage to overcome, the sentiment holds true for the rest of life.
This is the lesson that I wish I had learned earlier. I wish I had known that caring a whole lot more wasn’t that much harder.
I know that most, if not all, Piedmont students work very hard and care deeply about their transcripts and resumes. Since I check Infinite Campus an average of once a day, I know that I too am guilty of getting swept up in the sprint to the next big test. But I enjoy school the most when I remember to focus on the marathon aspects, the intangibles that will still matter long after I’ve forgotten which tests I aced and which ones I’ve failed.
In a school of 800, where administrators know most of us by name and teachers often have the same students for two or even three years, it will never again be this easy to get involved. The size of our school means there’s hardly any red tape to duck under if you want to start a club, join a sport, or take a stand. If you send Mr. Daniels an email about a concern you have or a change you want to make, he will reply and set up a meeting.
Site Council is open to anyone, and it meets once a month on Tuesdays. I’ve been on the council for about a year now, and I actually really enjoy it. We talk about pertinent issues at PHS including homework loads, technology use and the bell schedule. There are usually snacks (sometimes cookies) and the administration loves hearing student voices and opinions. Our school may not be perfect, but we have the ability to improve it, something that I wish I had realized sooner.
Four years is a long time, long enough for iPhone games to live and die, for pitchers to lose their mojo and for political parties to implode under the worst tupée the world has ever seen. Let’s make the most of ours before it’s too late.