At first, like a fool, I thought it wouldn’t happen to me.
I thought I was strong, special, exceptional, a sort of Übermench if you will. But as hubris struck down heroes, it knocked me off my pedestal. After sprinting for most of the race, my pace was slowed down to something akin to wading through a pool of molasses. The characteristic signs of senioritis sprang up—lower grades, missing assignments, missing days—and I felt powerless to the stop spread of the virus.
Now here I am, dragging my hobbled body behind me, desperately trying to reach the finish line. With every passing moment, the goal comes into clearer focus, but still, every step is accompanied by a grimace and wince. Every single day is a foray through an unforgiving desert, with vultures with the face of demons ready to swoop in at a moment’s sign of weakness. Every assignment is a prickly cactus under my foot, and every test is a biting sandstorm. The weekends, supposed to be oases, are dried-up excuses for a well.
Let’s be real.
It sucks. Really, really bad.
For three and a half years, we’ve been relentlessly pursuing a goal, ignoring any aches or pains, and pushing against any setbacks. We gave up sleep and free time, reminding ourselves of the utopia that was hidden on the other side. We did it for college, for trade school, for a job, for our future.
Many times, we messed up. Many times, we tripped, we fell, we made mistakes.
Many times, we didn’t think we’d make it.
But no matter what happened, we didn’t give up.
And against all odds, we’ve made it.
….well, we almost have. We worked hard, and we’ve gotten here, but it’s still the second semester of senior year. Graduation is right around the corner but it’s not here quite yet.
As it would happen, I’m burned out. With the finish line in sight, I’ve let up, and I discovered that I’ve been running on fumes. I know for many of you, it’s the same way.
To be honest, doubts are racing through my head. Can we make it?
But what choice do we have but to try?
We’ve worked too hard, spent too much time to give up now. What would life be like if you were to give up every time something got hard? It’s when the army of apathy comes rumbling in that we need to stand our ground the most. There are around 80 days left before graduation, and until then, we are still Maine West students with jobs to do.
We’ve got to tough it out.
Fight through, seniors, fight through! We may not be able to cure senioritis, but we can grind it out. Savor each moment for what it is, enjoy the twilight of your high school days, but don’t give up. Go to prom, cheer on your teammates, travel across the country, but consider doing your homework sometimes as well. Maybe every grade can’t be an A, but it doesn’t mean you have settle for barely passing.
Let’s do it, class of 2017. We’re almost there.