Dear Selma High,


Victoria Juarez

Victoria Juarez, Editorial Editor

You will not be missed.

I will not miss the sleepless nights, or the endless migraines. I will not miss the locked bathrooms or the strict dress code. I will not miss pulling all nighters for a mediocre essay just to get a passing score. I will not miss 90 percent of the people I interact with from day to day. 

Yet despite being glad that my high school experience has come to an end, I might miss the “epic highs and lows” of high school football. I will miss the band competitions, the bus rides, the tears. I might even miss the feeling of anxiety-ridden excitement that comes with a new romantic interest that you know will not last.

High school has by no means met my expectation of what being a teenager is supposed to look like. In my four years, I did not attend a single party that looked anything like Euphoria. I did not cry with my mom over a breakup or had a breakdown over a failed relationship the way I’d see it portrayed on TV. You know what I did have a breakdown over? Math. 

During my time here I have been screwed over by teachers, friends, partners, THE UNIVERSE… but now that I’m at the end of the finish line, I realize that some of the worst moments of my high school career were truly not that bad. Some were, don’t get me wrong, but most were not.

It truly is not a big deal that I got a C in Native Spanish sophomore year (or a B every other semester.) It truly is not a big deal that I could not get a good titration or that I just wasn’t very good in Chemistry. It is not a big deal that I failed my AP exam last year. 

For a very long time I based my self worth and confidence on academic validation, and while it would have been nice to take more rigorous coursework, at the end of the day I am receiving the same diploma as everybody else. At the end of the day, I too will be attending a four year university after high school.

I will not write this without admitting that I may have committed many errors. That to you, the reader, I may be a villain in your story. To those I may have hurt over the last 18 years, I am sincerely sorry and I hope the future treats you well. 

To my current friends, I love you and I am wishing you the best on your journey to adulthood. Don’t forget to eat three meals a day, to take mental breaks, and most importantly don’t forget about our memories. I cannot grant you an eternal friendship, but I can promise that our relationship will forever have a hold on my upbringing and my identity. 

To my past friends, thank you for being a part of my childhood. When the grass is coated with a thin layer of ice and my breath fogs the air, I’ll remember our penguin-like huddles as we tried desperately to hide from the cold. When the sprinklers turn on on a hot summer day, I’ll remember our frantic runs through the grass. I’ll remember the way our clothes hung onto our bodies dripping with water and sweat and the carefree innocent laughs that escaped our mouths. 

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I know I can handle whatever may come my way. Selma High has ensured that.