Celebrating Our Last First

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Celebrating Our Last First

Keegan Kerr

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I vividly remember my first day of high school. I was nervous about finding classes, meeting teachers, and of course, the seniors. I knew the Seniors would be rowdy, but I didn’t quite know what to expect until I first heard their screams. I was sitting in English, and the bell had just rung. As I timidly stepped out into the hallway, I was greeted by a bunch of brightly clothed 17 and 18 year-olds yelling at the top of their lungs. Like most freshmen, I was intimidated by them. 

But by the end of the day, my intimidation morphed into some confusion. As I watched the seniors run, jump, and scream to loud music at their afternoon assembly, I wondered why they were so excited. After all, they still had an entire school year to complete before they graduate, right? Why were they so loud and obnoxious now? If anything, I thought their excitement would’ve been more appropriately expressed on their last day of school, not the first. 

However, now that I’m a senior, my opinions on the first day have understandably changed. Yes, the seniors are loud, obnoxious, and very, very excited. But, what I didn’t understand as a freshman was that there are reasons for that. For seniors, the first day of school is the first of many lasts. This year will be the last time we’re all together as one class. For many of us, we’ve grown up together. We’ve been in classes together, studied together, been on the same teams, and in the same clubs. And all the while, High School seems to be flying by, whether we want it to or not. When I was a Freshman, one year of High School felt like an eternity, now it doesn’t seem like enough time. 

So, the first day is as much of a tradition as it is a celebration. An homage to our past, and a celebration of our final year together. 

To the freshmen that were a little afraid of the seniors at first, that’s completely normal — I was too. And to those that were confused or thought the antics were pointless, I’ll say to just wait. In three years, you may just find yourself in the middle of a hot, sweaty moshpit with 200 of your friends and peers all wearing ridiculous outfits and screaming as loud as you possibly can.