Semantic Reactors, High School Graduation
Uploaded by cutee2 on Nov 03, 2011
This essay will examine the past, present and future reactions to my high school graduation, incorporating semantic reactors, such as thinking, emotions, self-motivation, and electro-chemical.
Twelve years of schooling led up to this afternoon, thirteen if you count kindergarten. For four years of high school, we had been waiting for this day, talking about it, getting closer and closer as each class moved us up a little nearer to what we thought would be freedom. From the timid days of freshman, to the nowhereness of sophomore year, to junior year when it all started to come together, and finally, senior year, when suddenly the end of the road was visible; four years finally reaching fruition.
In September of that year, I thought June would never come. Nine months more, like waiting for a child to be born. Finally, we were the seniors. There was no one else above us. We were the big fish. It was the year we had been waiting for. It was the year we finally were “outta here!”
Then suddenly, as the winter turned into spring and the graduation preparations began in earnest, as they had for a hundred classes before us, “outta here” began to seem maybe not such a great idea. The world outside was waiting for us, and reality began to clamp down on our high school souls. Already we had jobs, already we had cars (well, some of us), and boyfriends, and college acceptance letters.
But up to this point, it had been an ordered existence that we had taken for granted. Yes, we rebelled against the structure of midterms and dress codes and tardy slips. Yes, we grumbled about the unfairness of the rules and regulations. Certainly, once we had “our freedom”, we would never have to deal with rules like this again.
But on that June afternoon, standing with the rest of my class, clutching the notes for the speech I would make in front of the friends and family gathered to watch us march down the path to the strains of “Aida”, the words of my class song, to which we had made up endless parodies, began to run through my head like a mantra. In the hot afternoon sun, with the rustle of robes behind me and the muted buzz of conversation in front of me, those words suddenly took on a poignant and special significance.
This was my “high school song”....