PHOTO/ Karina Pan Although I’ve grown a lot mentally and emotionally, I can’t deny that my physical appearance has also changed significantly since I was a freshman.
By Karina Pan,
Graduating Editor-in-Chief
As I sit at my desk typing this out, it’s 1:12 a.m. late Sunday night (or Monday morning), and I’m blasting “Mr. Blue Sky” by the Electric Light Orchestra while munching on a banana. To be honest, it still hasn’t sunk in that I, Karina Pan, will be graduating in three weeks, and my mind is a complete mess. It’s completely surreal that I’m sitting here writing my final article for Rampage, the iconic Senior Goodbye. It’s a daunting task, so I’ll revert to what I do best — reminiscing on memories and feeling nostalgic.
Freshman year feels like a million years ago, yet somehow just yesterday at the same time. Taking my first step onto a completely new campus signaled my train slowly departing from the station of comfort and shelter that I’d grown accustomed to. The biggest pivotal point of 9th grade was in Mr. Lieu’s English Honors 1 class. For the first time, I was immersed in an environment where we read challenging books and had deep conversations on a daily basis. My perspectives were constantly challenged as I was forced to analyze events from the viewpoint of every character, and that made me deeply uncomfortable. However, this was my first exposure to a world different than the one I had known for 14 years, and my point of view was greatly expanded whether I liked it or not. I learned for the first time what it really meant to understand others and see the world through their eyes. Although growing my worldview will be a lifetime process, I’ll be forever grateful for the initial moment that sparked it all, and I can confidently say that my train switched tracks for the better.
My sophomore year was a year full of firsts: my first time trying out for Rampage, my first time getting over a big crush, and my first (and hopefully last) time entering into a global pandemic. Pre-COVID-19, my 10th grade year was a cushy, scenic train ride. I comfortably enjoyed my time with my friends, expanding my hobbies with little academic stress. In contrast, quarantine was the train derailing and completely falling off a cliff. I spent most of my time sprawled hopelessly on the ground, unable to even look up from the bottom of an impossibly high mountain.
Junior year was when I started to pick myself back up again. I may have been battered and bruised, but I taught myself that I wasn’t broken. I started to rebuild my life, adding in pieces that were significant and mattered to me. It was excruciatingly difficult at times, but I began laying down each track and hamming in each pin to make my new railroad up the mountain. Starting projects, joining groups and exploring interests cemented my passion for creating change and set me on the path to being a political science major. It was a year where I burrowed into the things I loved and what I wanted to pursue in life.
Senior year was when I learned what “senioritis” truly means. Although I experienced a level of burnout greater than I thought was possible, this was also the year that I learned the most about myself. For the first time, I learned how to do something completely for my own pleasure and joy, without the ever-present guilt of not using my time to work instead. I felt completely free to spontaneously go out with friends, binge shows and really just enjoy my time. More importantly, this allowed for a lot of self-reflection, and I’ve been pondering on my core values and identity as I transition out of high school. Taking the time to practice being more intentional in my thoughts, emotions and relationships has enriched my life and given me a greater sense of constant joy that doesn’t ebb even when my environment changes. Although the tracks ahead of me are shrouded in uncertain fog, I know for sure that the train is chugging along steadily with a reliable beam of light that shines from within, and that’s enough for me.
Looking back at everything, I think it’s appropriate to say that my high school experience was one of constant growth. Although I didn’t chase after it intentionally until I was an upperclassman, I can’t believe how much I’ve matured these four years. I know freshman Karina would never imagine that I’m where I am now, but I’m certain that she would be proud of me.
As I’m finishing the last few words of this article and glancing at the clock that now reads 2:27 a.m., my playlist shuffles, and OneRepublic’s “I Lived” starts playing. With a grin, I realize that this song really is appropriate, and I can wholeheartedly say that “I did it all.”
Although I’ve grown a lot mentally and emotionally, I can’t deny that my physical appearance has also changed significantly since I first stepped onto campus as a freshman.
Although I’ve grown a lot mentally and emotionally, I can’t deny that my physical appearance has also changed significantly since I was a freshman.