Graduation

I woke up this morning with a cramped hand, a sore back, aching feet, and a looming sense of finality and indirection. I stared at my bedroom floor, littered with my yearbook, signatures, clothes, flowers, other miscellaneous items associated with last night’s activities. My first thought: so what now? 

I imagined what my classmates would do when they first woke up (probably go back to sleep). I imagined some shedding quiet, sorrowful tears, still coming to terms with the stark realization that we must soon disperse across the nation, each chasing a web of haphazard paths ridden with countless new challenges-paths that no longer intersect oh so often. I thought of some classmates reminiscing and looking through old photos, recounting sweet memories shared throughout the years. Still, I envisioned some schoolmates acting indifferent, hoping to distance themselves from sentimental feelings in attempts to avoid the volatile mixture of poignant emotions hidden deep inside. And finally, I imagined some students cheering in exuberance, smiling at the moments enjoyed, proud of feats accomplished, and optimistic about the future. I myself somewhat experienced all four of these scenarios this morning as I flipped through the yearbook and thought of old times, tasting Jon Ma’s sour sweet orange chicken. 

If Junior year was the year I learned that I could accomplish whatever (reasonable) goal I set for myself as long as I worked hard, Senior year was the year I learned that sometimes, no matter what, the outcome lies out of your hands. This year, I got sick five times, the Lakers were swept, Constitution Team didn’t make nationals, I read the statement “We regret to inform you…” eight too many times, and a dear friend passed away in an unfortunate accident. So maybe a coin was tossed, a dice was rolled, cards were dealt, and the rest of our lives were at stake. But hey, the issues of my life pale in comparison to those in the rest of the world, what are mine but merely Michelle Zhu’s small dots, trivial discontinuities in a function that I have yet to draw most of, making the best of whichever direction it takes me? 

They say graduation is “the end of an old chapter and the beginning of a new,” but I believe chapters are being silently turned everyday, for oftentimes it is on the most ordinary of days that unnoticed life-altering events occur. It’s easy to single out graduation as that special “turn” of the page where you realize that hey, today is the day everything changes. But in this crazy world driven by cause and effect, friction and momentum, time and perception, the book of our lives is not broken down neatly into chapters. Chapters and pages and sentences overlap, bookmarks and sticky notes are everywhere, annotations and a rainbow of highlights (kinda like my East of Eden book) decorate the infinite number of pages. In fact, the book of our lives is so complicated that maybe even a ‘book’ becomes an insufficient analogy.

Speaking of books, while I was flipping through the yearbook, I found myself reading some incredibly insightful Senior Quotes. Yet, even as seniors, it is still extremely difficult for us to truly embrace their meanings, for many of these short sentences written beneath our photos are not merely words of wisdom but declarations of war. To genuinely “believe that success is what one defines it to be” is a declaration of war against the pressures of others and societal expectations in order to find one’s own avenue of happiness and prosperity. As we go on to work in Wall Street, law firms, corporations, etc., we are merely beginning this fight against these pressures; we are just beginning to distinguish the difference between monetary value and true value. To “live every day as if it were your last” is an illumination of the importance of depth of experience, a declaration of war against unnecessary worrying and distress. Throughout high school, I have lost many many battles in the war waged by these quotes, and while I regret none of the physical, tangible choices I have made, it is these more subtle yet powerful emotions and motivations that I am ashamed of. The extraordinary tasks embodied by these quotes can only be accomplished by the wise and talented few, and the ambiguity of the sentences I just typed in this paragraph (like Supreme Court definitions) demonstrates my still very limited understanding of it all.

I think of myself four years ago, timidly entering as a new student to Arcadia High School. I dreamed of painting those beautiful murals on the walls, wearing those spiffy red blazers, carrying around the Constitution, and being accepted to a recognized institution. Today, I can walk down Arcadia High School halls with my Senior Men and Women badge pinned to my shirt and my Gov. jacket on, stroll past my mural in E Hall, and hum “Blue and Yellow” in my head. I have exceeded my freshman year expectations and I smile thinking of everyone who has helped bring me to where I am and everyone whom I have helped in return. It’s been a great four years. Dear Arcadia High School Class of 2011: you are amazing and you continue to amaze me everyday.