Three weeks ago I turned 22, and in the three weeks before and after my birthday I saw my high school friends more than in the past three years combined. It seems somewhat paradoxical. With each passing day, month and year, we’ve moved farther away from the times we thought AP World History was the hardest class in the history of the world and heard AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” under the Friday night lights as the football team ran onto the field.
The last time we entered the doors of Chantilly High School — I still wonder how we were able to function at 7:24 a.m. — there was still a Blockbuster in town, Sarah Palin was culturally relevant and we wrote on each other’s Facebook walls, not each other’s timelines. Even though time keeps marching on, we are inextricably linked by our common past, and as graduation looms and the future becomes scarier each day, it makes sense that we are reaching for the people who knew us when we were younger.
As a first year, I didn’t want to hang out exclusively with my high school friends for fear I would miss out on new friendship opportunities. And as a first year, the last thing I wanted to do was appear as though I missed high school — even though I did — because I thought everyone else already thought high school was a distant memory. By the time I was a second and third year — when I really no longer missed high school and had cultivated a solid group of college friends — I didn’t need to hang out with my high school friends as much. Plus, if we did hang out all the time we would run the risk of looking like our former peers at Virginia Tech who still seem to party together every weekend.
But when my high school friend who now lives on the Lawn suggested we have a Class of 2009 pregame in her room, I thought it was a fantastic idea. After discussing whether or not we thought our favorite high school history teacher thinks we drink now — we concluded yes — and where the people we had crushes on in high school are now, we found ourselves singing off-key between sake bombs at Sushi Love and crowding around an upstairs table at Biltmore, trying to prolong the eventual end of the night. Somewhere between the columns of the Lawn and all the late-night restaurants, I realized it’s sometimes great to surround yourself with high school friends because they can remind you how far you’ve come and — as we all talked about our plans for next year — how far you want to go.
After I celebrated my birthday with both college and high school friends in the same room, something happened that never had before in my three-and-a-half year college career — I went home for Thanksgiving break. As I was drinking coffee with a friend at the Starbucks I visited many mornings before high school, one of my favorite teachers ever — my AP Language teacher Ms. Bucco — came over and gave me a huge hug. I was instantly reminded of how much I’ve changed in the nearly four years since high school graduation. I’ve traded hoodies and Sperrys for ballet flats and blazers. She told me I looked so grown-up she wouldn’t have been sure it was me had she not known my voice.
As we were standing there catching up, I remembered all the important life lessons my high school teachers taught me. One of Ms. Bucco’s favorite catch phrases was, “You should never marry someone who won’t put gloves on your chickens for you.” Her use of the phrase originated from the story of Henry David Thoreau staying at Walden Pond, where he fell in love with the property owner’s wife, Mrs. Ralph Waldo Emerson. He realized her chickens were tearing up her roses, so he decided to make tiny gloves for them so her roses would survive. The lesson here is that you should only settle for someone who loves and cares about you enough to do anything for you. This can be hard to remember in college, where a hook-up culture dominates.
Another major influence from my high school years was my yearbook adviser, Mrs. Downes. She had several key catch phrases of her own that I think are applicable to college kids, the first being, “A short pencil is better than a long memory.” Many of us who spend class time on Facebook thinking we’re comprehending the lecture know when finals roll around we wish we weren’t missing 15-minute chunks of notes.
Another one of her favorite sayings was, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Sometimes in college it’s easy to be complacent while simultaneously wanting to do the right thing. But it’s important to remember inaction, or a poor decision with the best interests of yourself or a friend at heart, is worthless.
Finally, my personal favorite Mrs. Downes aphorism was, “It’s better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission” — because, as we know, in college there are no rules, only consequences.
So regardless of whether you’re a first, second, third or fourth year, when you head home for Winter Break take some time out of your couch cruising, general holiday merriment and sleeping to reconnect with your high school days. I’ve learned I don’t know any friends like the good old friends.
Katie’s column runs biweekly Tuesdays. She can be reached at k.urban@cavalierdaily.com.