It became official when I signed my name.
Two weeks ago, the ASB seniors experienced a tearful last day of the program, filled with a bittersweetness that I anticipate becoming quite accustomed to in my final semester of high school. It’s ASB tradition to send off the seniors with a heartwarming celebration, complete with silly and sentimental “Senior Speeches,” an advice video from ASB alumni, and many hugs as the seniors step out of the class for the final time.
But though these moments marked my final official time in the class, it didn’t truly hit me that this part of my life was ending until I stood alone in the ASB closet later that day.
Fastened on a wall in the ASB closet is a large wooden board. While originally serving as a mount for the classroom’s sound system, this board has evolved into an important artifact of ASB’s history. When students exit the program, they leave one final piece of themselves behind in the form of a dated signature that is forever immortalized on the wall. Signatures trace back to 2016 and are scattered up and down the board’s surface. Signing the board was a highly anticipated moment throughout my years in ASB, and after our senior celebrations, I rushed over excitedly to do so. But as I stood there with an uncapped Sharpie in my hand, I found myself hesitant to sign my name, realizing that doing so would seal my fate: this really was the end of my time in ASB.
To me, saying goodbye to ASB is a precursor to the rest of the goodbyes that I, along with my graduating class, will have to face head-on these next few months. Though the prospect of graduation brings excitement, I can’t help but want to cling to the smaller world I’m leaving behind: comfortable, familiar, and filled with everything I know and love. I have met some of the most thoughtful and vibrant people I know through ASB, many of whom have impacted my life and are my best friends. We have bonded through countless workdays that never seem to end, and I would never want to trade moments of post-event heart-to-hearts or laughter under the classroom’s warm string lights for any other high school experience. With all of these joyful hours spent together over the past few years, I didn’t feel ready for this experience to be over.
As I stood in the closet thinking of my impending goodbyes, I looked up at the many signatures that adorned the wall. Some belonged to my older friends and other individuals had long since graduated, but all of them had stood in the exact location where I now found myself, holding a black Sharpie in a small closet, unsure of what this ending would bring.
In truth, I don’t think I will be able to fully discern my thoughts about these “goodbyes” until long after they happen. But amidst the mixed haze of emotions that arise from nearing graduation — sadness in endings, dismay that the seemingly distant future approached so soon, and excitement for life after high school — there is tenderness to be found in the difficulty of these goodbyes: a testament to the many people I’ve come to love during my time here.
I was faced with one of my first endings of senior year. Difficult? Absolutely, but it was also a personal reminder to embrace these last few months of high school even more than I did before. And, though I doubt saying goodbye will ever become any easier for me, it is comforting to know that I can carry my gratitude and fondness for my past experiences wherever I go.
As I traced my thoughts to a newfound solace, I drew in a deep breath and, with that familiar feeling of bittersweetness, leaned toward the board and signed my name.
