Don’t fret, 2012, junior year is nothing. Really.
As the iron curtain of 2009/10 draws to a resounding and tumultuous close, I cannot help but reflect upon the mélange of events that have passed. I am sure that you, an active participant in our community, are aware of the college acceptances/rejections, prom/ring ceremony/senior ditch day/mascot updates, and even possibly the menstrual cycle of this year’s senior class. I think it’s time that we reverse the old wives’ tale of age before beauty, and let a junior give her view of the last quarter in these graceful halls of learning. Naturally, as the most talented and attractive junior in the class of 2011, I accept this authorial position.
I admit, I anticipated the dreaded junior year with great fear and apprehension. After all, it was junior year – not only the infamous era of multiple APs and mental breakdowns, but also nine months of people speaking only in italics. My knees knocked like the fist of a traveling salesman upon the unsuspecting door of your loving but susceptible grandmother (why else does she own a Bowflex, come on). I shuddered while perched uncomfortably on the edge of Ms. Hotchkiss’ extremely well-matched office furniture as she, purse-lipped and pashmina-bedecked, purveyed my potential junior year schedule. Namely, I was flippin’ out. But guess what I learned in 2009/10? Junior year is not that bad.
Don’t believe me? Well, lowly plebian, let me explicate further. Every morning, I chisel my drool encrusted face from the bloodstained pages of “Traditions & Encounters: A Brief Global History” and commence a new quest at Marlborough School for Girls (pronounced “guuuuhhlls”). I cheerfully drag my backpack-induced-scoliosis-stricken body to campus, where I duck and cover under a delightful explosion of rapid-fire academic shrapnel. “Sounds stressful,” you say, but au contraire, I take refuge in stalking Mr. Guevin, slathering the lining of my multiple stomachs with layers of nutella, and hiding in trash cans muttering about the Abbasid Caliphate and Gaussian elimination. I then trek home, collapse in the comfort of the fetal position, and dream of repeating the experience over and over and over again.
Fear not, 2012. Shut your ears to rumors; junior year is doable, fun, and a great learning experience. Just hold onto your hat.
Article by Jewels ’11