Anna-Catherine Kueng ~ Assistant Kueng

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After my fifth grade graduation, I went home (following shopping at Target) and cried. I had made so many friends at my elementary school and I did not want to start middle school the next year. At the time, Brosville Elementary was my happy place, full of friends and teachers that made me happy. I have always been so sentimental about things ending that my parents would purposely plan exciting things for me at the end of the school year, like fishing trips, just so I could look forward to something else.

This problem followed me throughout high school. The thought of leaving behind my high school newspaper that I had poured my life into for four years was unthinkable when it was time to graduate. In addition, I felt like my teachers were irreplaceable and that no professors could ever compare with them.

When something comes to an end, the thing itself is not just coming to an end. When things end, a part of yourself, a season of your life, ends. I am not the same girl I was when I graduated high school on May 25. I am not the same girl I was when I graduated as a Bulldog back in fifth grade. Most importantly, I am not the same girl I was at the beginning of August of this year.

Within the time span between the first day of college and today, I have grown. I have been pushed out of my comfort zone. I have acquired new skills, like being able to understand Aristotle’s writings. I have developed new friendships. I have come to respect my professors and they have taught me so much. Overall, I have become more confident in myself and my ability.

However, there have also been many hard days. There have been secret tears and tears I couldn’t hide, such as when I cried in AT&T because my phone got water damaged two days before classes started. I have experienced happy moments that have left me feeling unstoppable, but I have also experienced times where it was hard to get out of bed in the morning.

I may have sworn while working on papers that I would never miss my first semester classes, but that is not true. I will miss my professors, my classmates, and just the subjects in general. My seemingly insignificant 50 minute classes have left an immeasurable impact on me. For whatever you believe in – fate or divine orchestration – I was able to be in the right classes, with the right friends, with the right professors, and learning the right lessons when I needed them most.

I cannot get back the memories I have created during my first semester of college, and that is why it is hard to let go sometimes. I know we all have to move forward in life, and I know there are better things ahead, but it is not always easy to grasp that when things are coming to an end.

So, for now, I am trying to enjoy the last few weeks of first semester while remaining optimistic about the next season of my life. I encourage you to do the same if you are anything like me.

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