The Trepidation Of Highschool

After eighth grade graduation, I was feeling really good about myself. I had been hoisted on the shoulders of my classmates at one point since I had come out of my shell between sixth grade and eighth grade. It also helped that I created my own catchphrase during eighth-grade prom. I felt like the most popular guy in my class (even though I wasn’t) and I was hoping to continue that momentum into freshman year of high school. My trepidation for high school first began when I visited the school and saw how nice it was. Also, the fact that they could send me “back to district” also scared the crap out of me. I didn’t wanna end up going to eastside since I had heard the reputation surrounding the school. Either way, it didn’t help that I was watching a lot of Disney teen shows as well as watching the movie Grease that summer as well. Seeing kids get stuffed in their lockers in those teen shows as well as the dreaded task of changing for gym class (for the first time in my life) had me shaking in my FUBUs. The worst part in all this is that I was already small for my eighth-grade class so imagine going into high school which would dwarf me even more. The only thing going for me is that I was going into freshman year with the novelty of my little afro. The thought of the summer quickly coming to an end after which I’d need to start from bottom all over again was a terrifying thought. I remember thinking of ways I could possibly skip high school and go straight to college. That was going to be my holy grail. It didn’t help that the bell between classes was more of a game show buzzer. Not to mention we were located near a quarry so at least once a day there was a big rumble felt throughout the school. There was no warning of when the blasting would occur (at least when I started) so the random blasts would jostle me to my bones as well as it did the school. Looking back at my freshman year my fears were basically realized just not in the way that I anticipated. I wasn’t picked on for my size or my slender frame but instead how I spoke or how I dressed. It definitely caught me off guard and the situation was a bit out of left field. In a way it was worse than I could’ve imagined but also a sense of relief at not having to dislocate my shoulder to escape a locker or having to sprint home from the school bully. They say the anticipation of pain is usually worse than the pain itself. With my overimaginative thirteen-year-old brain there was no way I could fathom what high school could really be like. Going through the experience wasn’t nearly as bad as what I had anticipated and that shows how silly it was to be so terrified of the situation.