The Year in Review

It's over.

     The hardest year. The longest year. The worst year of high school. The worst year of your life. All warnings I'd been given going into my Junior year of high school. Now, I'm on the other side.
     I have to evaluate these titles now. The hardest year--academically, maybe. But other things were harder. The longest year--definitely. I honestly still can't believe it's summer. The worst year of high school--it's hard to beat ninth grade. I don't think so. The worst year of my life? Well, I guess that's up to me.
     The school work wasn't as bad as teachers and previous students made it seem to be. This was my first year taking AP classes, and they really weren't that bad. Of course, May was hell, but that comes with the territory. Yes, there were many weeks where I felt stretched beyond my limit. But, in the back of my mind, I always knew, I'll survive. And that hope is what got me through.
     As far as friends are concerned, I think it went well. I know a few more people now, came out of my shell just a little. And my two best friends at school, previously fighting, have made up. I still don't feel like a social butterfly, but I don't feel like a hermit, either.
     I think I made my mark in some of my classes, too. The teachers chose me to be editor-in-chief of my school magazine for next year.It's a daunting responsibility, and sometimes when I think about it, I start to psych myself out. But no matter what, I'm going to give it my all.
     In addition, I think my skills have improved--in writing, designing, and shaping stories. I would like to hope that I'm a better person than I was going into this school year.
     And yet, as the year closes. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. I want to scream. In the course of this year, I've realized that there are 900 students under an administration that does not care for them. They are numbers, figures, notches on our superindendant's belt. We are not individuals to him, but a collection--each pinned to the school so he can roam the halls and admire his work. We are a "Christian school," but he is the god here. And his word is law. And we will all fall short of his glory.
     Now I am fighting a battle I cannot win, other than by some merciful act of the true God. I am trying to stand up, stand out, violate his perfect order, for one class. One class that means the world to me. One class that the god of this school, in his infallible knowledge and wisdom, has decided I cannot take for my senior year. Against all my pleas and petitions. Against all my tears and cries for exception. The god has said no, and I challenge his order. If not for me, then for those I will leave behind me once I finally escape from this school. Nobody understands, and at this point I really don't care. It is a battle of wills, and I am willing to fight to the death.
     We'll see what comes of next year. I know that I am going to carry a resentment that will only fester, now with this knowledge of the character of those who are in power over me. Maybe this sounds dark--it's not some sentimental note about the good times I've had this year. But, it's on the forefront of my mind, and it will be for the coming year. We'll see what happens.