Graduation, by Olivia Weaver

The seniors are leaving. Each one of them is such a unique individual and yet they manage to work together so well. They treat each other with respect and kindness. At this point they’ve grown up together; the trauma of high school has brought them all together.  They understand each other, and although they may or may not admit it I think they all love each other a little bit.        

At SOTA, high school doesn’t just make friends. It makes families. It’s a small high school to begin with, so everyone vaguely knows each other. Then you mix in the griefs and losses each grade itself undergoes, and you find yourself leaning on your classmates for comfort. Even if you don’t like some people, what you both experience bonds you. I know the seniors, as freshman, lost both a student and a teacher, along with the tough but common cases of kids missing school or dropping out because of drugs, mental health and ED outpatient programs. As a result this senior class is one of the bravest, most vibrant, creative, funny and kind group of individuals any of us will ever encounter. Their talent by far surpasses that of the class before them, and their charm and sincere interest reach even to the freshman.       

You know how close classes get. Take it to a departmental level and you’re looking at some people who’ve spent over two hours together for five days a week for four years of their lives together, give or take. I’ve written about how close I personally feel to my class. If I take that and double it I can only imagine the depth and level of empathy our seniors must feel for each other.

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