Grade 12 was a year filled with bittersweet memories. On one hand, I spent this time creating my final memories of high school with friends and teachers that I adored. I laughed while debating the morality of the protagonist in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, smiled while watching my friends shake their hips onstage for the annual Christmas assembly, and giggled while listening to my peers complain about the unreliable heating system at our school.
On the other hand, I watched as the Premier announced the cancellation of the final three years of my high school experience, and with it, the long-awaited celebrations of prom and commencement. I purchased my prom dress, only to have it sit in my closet, unworn. I was rejected from my first scholarship application, got into an argument with a fellow DECA executive, and drifted away from some friends while gaining new ones.
It was a year filled with ups and downs, but at the end of the day, I can’t say I regret any of it. If not for these last four years, what else could have shaped me so well into the person I am today? What could have allowed me to forge these strong bonds with friends who are following me to the same university, and others who are not? With teachers that I loved, and some I did not?
But to understand my Grade 12 experience, I suppose I’ll have to go back to the very start.
Grade 9: Find Your Feathered Flock of Friends
It was Tuesday, September 6th, 2016. The first day of school. Outside, it was about 31 degrees Celsius. Inside the school? Probably about the same, if not hotter.
My high school is old. Older than my parents. When I went to go visit in Grade 8, White Oaks Secondary School was celebrating its fiftieth anniversary since opening. As such, I guess it was reasonable that it was lacking some amenities, such as an AC system. My friends and I still joke about it to this day, sitting in that stuffy A-wing classroom, where the rooms were essentially boxes with no windows. It doesn’t help that half of us were still going through our angsty goth phases, wearing chokers (that were “in” back then) and black clothes.
My first period classes passed in a blur of sweat and slight nervousness. I didn’t know many people at my school—it wasn’t the designated feeder school for my elementary school. Furthermore, I was enrolled in a program called the Accelerated Learning Program: a glorified name for Grade 9 and 10 students who had the intentions of enrolling in the International Baccalaureate (IB) program for their last two years. Because of this, my school attracted a lot of students from outside of Oakville, almost none of which I knew.
Thus, it becomes reasonable that my attempt to find friends at lunch at first was rather dismal.
I wandered around the jam-packed cafeteria, looking desperately for a familiar face. I had asked a stranger if I might eat with them at their table and was seated, watching the caf doors for someone I might know when, BAM! I stood suddenly, scaring the poor girls who had agreed to let me sit with them. Walking through the doors, at that exact moment, was someone I hadn’t seen in ages. Miraculously, my brain appeared to have remembered that girl who took art lessons with me when we were only wee four year olds, snickering brats that refused to be quiet when shushed.
From then on, finding friends came a lot more easily. You hear a lot about how important networking is for your future career—let me tell you, it’s definitely also relevant for making friends. The most important part of Grade 9 was forging these friendships that served to be the basis of some of my strongest bonds today. From that girl who I had taken art lessons with ages ago, I met her friends and became friends with them. Then, I would sit with them at lunch, and meet their friends and become friends with them. It helped that a lot of them were in my classes as well: by talking to them and working through assignments together, we got to know one another’s personalities and quirks, pet peeves and preferences.
Apart from this group of friends, I met a lot of new people in clubs and extracurriculars as well. Grade 9 was a time to try new things and make mistakes. I went to two tryouts for our famous debate team, only to be scared away by the intimidating coach. I made it onto the junior volleyball team and found girls who had both similar and different interests as myself. I even joined the k-pop club and danced in front of the school for CultureFest, while also being tricked by my vocal teacher into joining the school choir.
Regardless of what you choose to do, how you choose to meet new people, Grade 9 was my time—and will be yours—to find your place in high school. Will you stay friends with everyone you meet during this time? Possibly, but also unlikely. Rather, it’s more probable that you’ll stick to certain ones that end up in your classes and form a group with them. Nevertheless, this is your time to practice and to perfect how to present yourself. It’s your time to figure out what you like, and what you might not like so much. Academics are of course important, but realize that your marks from this year have zero effect on your university applications. Work hard, but give yourself time to socialize and grow.
Spread your wings little birdy, it’s time to leave the nest! You might still remain close to a couple elementary school friends, but don’t rely on connections of the past to forge your future. And don’t worry too much about first impressions: I introduced myself to one of my new classmates as an “anti-social, awkward Asian.” Seeing as we’re now best friends, I think I can safely say that no one cares how you first meet them :)
Grade 10: Sweaty, Scared, but Thriving!
Remember that debate coach from my Grade 9 year that terrified me so much I stopped going to tryouts? Well, surprise surprise! He returns yet again in Grade 10, as my English teacher!
This specific teacher had a reputation in the school for being, well, scary. He was well-known for having high standards, giving detention for late arrivals (I didn’t even know detentions existed outside of coming-of-age movies), and calling for students on the spot to give answers.
It’d be rather contradictory of myself however, if I told you to believe these rumours. After all, I had just expounded upon the uselessness of first impressions in high school. So, when we talk about this teacher, it seems rather obvious that this scary persona wasn’t all there was to him.
Let’s call this teacher Mr. Keats, after the respected poet. I spent my second semester with Mr. Keats, learning The Great Gatsby, Romeo and Juliet, as well as many, many short stories. He was indeed as terrifying as the rumours stated, but there was more to him. He was an avid reader, and would often spend the first thirty minutes of class ranting about his favourite books and providing reading suggestions. He was a singer at his church choir and actor at the local theatre. He could recite romantic poetry at a whim and was the most passionate debate coach I had ever met. As a teacher, he didn’t mince words in his feedback, but provided praise and encouragement when due.
My friends called me insane for liking his class. He gave the most homework out of the entire English department, required us to read a new novel every month, and had us do extra evaluations that other classes did not. I had to sprint across the street everyday after my class before to make it to his classroom on time (our school has two campuses, and my English class was in South Campus whereas my Business class before that was on North). His classroom was also rather stuffy, with thirty-so of us crammed into this one room. Still, I had the time of my life under his tutelage.
You may be wondering, why, Briana, did you like to suffer so much? Well, young grasshopper, let me teach you an important lesson. In your lifetime, you will have many different teachers. Some, easier than others, older than others, or perhaps more technologically-inclined than others. You may feel tempted to switch to an easier teacher when presented with one like Mr. Keats, but I personally urge you to think twice.
In my experience, it is always these strict, meticulous teachers that provide the best education. These teachers are the ones that force you to raise your own standards, to view your work the most critically, and that drive you to become a stronger student overall. The extra homework and stringent expectations helped me hone my analytical skills—a trait that has helped me immensely during my later years to maintain a 97%+ average. Perhaps I was scoring lower in Mr. Keat’s class than my peers with other teachers, but when it came to Grade 12 and we were all evaluated using the internationally-standardized IB marking schemes, I was the one who was scoring the highest marks and providing the best work.
When life throws curveballs at you in the form of teachers, you don’t shy away from them. A critical teacher is very different from a bad one. In fact, I’d even argue that a critical teacher is the exact opposite to a bad teacher. Mentors like Mr. Keats are the ones who can push you to develop and showcase your best abilities. They can even provide you with the best opportunities, say for example, a personal request to join the school’s competitive debate team.
(It appears that after a gruelling semester of evaluating my literary analysis, he had deemed my skills worthy of the legends who represented our school at newsworthy tournaments. Awww, Mr. Keats, you flatter me! *daintily waves a hand fan like rich Victorian heroine*)
Moral of the story? Take risks and learn from them. Don’t make judgements on the basis of first impressions and rumours—the latter of which are formed primarily for their entertainment values. Rather, use this time to get to know your teachers and learn the most from their possibly scary, stressful, and time-consuming lessons. After all, there’s no time like the present to learn how to prepare yourself for even scarier bosses in your future workplace!
Grade 11: So, I’m Definitely Not Going to Become a Doctor
Would you be surprised if I told you I came into high school with the intention of going to McMaster University for Health Sciences, going to medical school, and becoming a famous surgeon or heart doctor? Well, after about the third month of Grade 11, this long-held dream completely shattered.
Grade 11 marked the start of my time in the International Baccalaureate (IB) Diploma Programme. It would take way too much time for me to fully explain what IB is, so I’ll just tell you this—it’s an internationally-standardized educational curriculum for students that also want to learn first-year university content and better prepare themselves for university. Because of the advanced curriculum, our course choices were essentially set in stone since that fateful day in Grade 10 when we went into guidance and chose our subjects. Between both Grade 11 and Grade 12, IB students will learn a total of six core subjects and two additional classes.
I, wanting to be a doctor, obviously chose chemistry and biology. So, I wandered into my chemistry class the first day of Grade 11, chose a spot at the front of the class, and sat down, bright-eyed and ready to learn. The first unit was on nomenclature, and if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I’m a huge nerd for classical literature. Old English, Victorian and Gothic authors, Romanticism, all those shenanigans. What this means, is that when dealing with nomenclature, I had a blast! I loved wrangling with the Greek and Latin suffixes, and the unit that followed after that wasn’t too bad either.
Three months later, I was still relatively enjoying chemistry. The deadline to switch courses had passed, and I was convinced that I was still going to be a doctor. Until… thermodynamics and enthalpy, then gas stoichiometry and chemical mixtures. From these units on, everything went downhill and I discovered: nomenclature is not an accurate reflection of chemistry.
That’s not to say all of chemistry was bad. I thoroughly enjoyed organic chemistry, and medicinal chemistry (an extra unit required by IB for the exam) was super fun to learn! I passed the exam with a mark high enough to ensure I could still apply for the top med-related undergraduate programs if I still wished to do so. Nevertheless, this experience taught me that expectations can be taken, crushed, and stomped on by the brutal nature of reality.
So, not a doctor. Where did I go from there? Well, since Grade 10, I had been an active member of White Oaks DECA. My school is proud to hold the achievement of being the largest chapter of DECA Ontario and consequently, has a very strong DECA team. Originally, I had joined because I wanted to improve my public speaking and oral improvisation skills, but as I continued with it, I realized that business was genuinely something I had enjoyed.
It helped also that I excelled in IB economics. Frankly, when making my course selection, I had no idea what economics was. However, when faced with the other options of geography or history, economics was the one that appealed to me the most. And boy, was I glad I made that choice!
Not only did economics help me excel in DECA, but it also allowed me to explore a field I never knew I was interested in before—international business. Both my parents work in business, and my father deals specifically with supply chain management. It was extremely interesting to be able to learn concepts that I could speak to my dad about, and see how what I was taught in school applied directly to real-life situations, be it in the stock market, trade partnerships, or even just simple business fundamentals.
And now, we’re at the end of my Grade 11 crisis. I spent the entire year struggling to decide what I was going to do since it appeared my dislike for chemistry was enough to completely turn my life plan around. It was definitely stressful, as I had to apply the next year for university.
My advice for those struggling with their career paths? Keep an open mind. Clearly, my path has changed, but that isn’t to say yours definitely has to. Still, you want to ensure that you keep your options open—perhaps you still want to go into the medical field, but rather than becoming a doctor, maybe you’ll discover bioengineering suits you better. That’s fine!
The world is your oyster, my friend. It’s up to you to decide what kind of pearl comes out from it.
Grade 12: Seatbelts are Fastened, Enjoy Your Ride!
And now, we return to the present year! Grade 12: the year of high stress, all-nighters, and the heavy, heavy burden of university applications.
Just kidding.
Honestly speaking, Grade 12 is actually a lot more relaxing than it seems. Yes, you are going to write applications that decide whether you get into your dream university, but realize that this year is much more about that. It’s about making your final memories with your classmates, dreaming about where you’ll travel in the summer (or at least, that’s what I was doing before the coronavirus hit), and making your final impression upon teachers and the school.
This year is also your final chance to earn your last “firsts” in high school. To compete and qualify for that DECA’s international competition for the first time. To try out a philosophy class (or at least IB’s version of it) and learn about ancient theories for the first time. To adopt that one English teacher you absolutely adore as your pseudo-mother figure.
It’s also your last chance to be a child before entering an adults’ world—don’t let it wither away from stress. Take this year to spend time with those friends that stayed with you throughout the years, and to develop better bonds with those who will do so for the next four.
It’s with this slightly cliché message that I end my story. From walking in, jelly-legged and jittery on the first day of school to graduating—albeit virtually—surrounded by the friends and family who have supported me, that “anti-social, awkward Asian” has done pretty well, if I do say so myself. I got into all my top schools, earned the marks I wanted, and found *kindred spirits* (10 points to you if you get the allusion!) with whom I had unforgettable experiences.
If you’re a fellow graduate of 2020, then a huge congratulations to you for getting to where you are today. No matter what path you decide to take, be proud of your achievements. If you’ve yet to reach this point, then do not falter! High school is a roller coaster that takes you up and down, but it’s up to you to decide whether or not the park ticket was worth it in the end.
The tracks are a reflection of the blood, sweat, and tears you’re putting into the ride—I can only wonder how much fun will your roller coaster turn out to be?
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