Senior Reflection

Two scrapbooks sit on the windowsill of my room, both originally and solely dedicated to my travels. At the beginning of senior year, I decided to scrapbook more in depth—not only during trips, but also on random days throughout the year. My mom constantly reminded me how fast this year would “fly by,” and I knew I wanted to remember it. On any given day, I would often note my activities throughout the day. This past winter, I decided to scrapbook a bad day for fun. Halfway through cutting out a 0.5 my friend and I took in a hallway, I stopped and looked around my room. With music blasting in the background, I looked past my decorations, outside the window, and started reading my notes from the day. “Failed a math test…again. Only ran two miles instead of three. Got out of class late and had to rush my lunch.” As I turned the pages back to older entries, I recalled each moment: Thursday, October 5, 2023. Math, art, physics, and a tour during my free period. Field hockey, talking with the Carter girls, a walk, and work. A relatively boring day, so I smiled while reading the page. Tuesday, January 16, 2024. English, physics, poverty, calculus. Senior fitness, dinner, meeting, work. I love Lawrenceville’s consistently packed days, which allow for a structured routine. Sitting there, I read dozens of pages filled with the same boring schedule and afternoon plans. I smiled as I looked back on memories with friends as we hung out at Melba or Starbucks after dinner. These routines are comfortable because I fell into them, but as I reach graduation and step out of these routines, I hope to leave the communities I interact with better than before I joined them.

Soon, glittery silver paint will cross the top of a page: “GRADUATION,” with pictures of my friends and I in suits and white dresses. This momentous occasion will drastically differ from earlier monotony, because it marks the end of my Lawrenceville routines. In college, a new routine, new stressors, and new friends will be documented within the scrapbook. A brand-new set of mundane moments will be recorded—and I wouldn’t want it any other way.