The Graduation Mafia (and why they're making me sad)

As June 12 (graduation day, for those of you know who haven't bothered to look) edges ever nearer, we seniors are feeling the pressure. Hot, boiling, unrelenting pressure. Yes, the entire senior class is being steamrolled, as we scramble to finish those classes required for graduation and get everything else in place before we (finally) leave high school forever. You wouldn't believe the number of deadlines we have, starting all the way back in November when some of us turned in our first college applications. Then we had class rings and graduation gowns to order, and endless meetings with our counselors where we turned in envelopes and pushed for "just one more day, promise" and outllined detailed and depressing lists of everything we still hadn't done.

But after all this time, when things are supposed to start getting easier and more relaxed, the pressure is crushing us more and more by the second.  It seems we get notices every day, little pink slips or blue slips or highlighter yellow slips, reminding us yet again of what we still haven't finished, haven't paid, haven't turned in. And always, the threat is the same: if we don't finish it or pay it or turn it in by some seemingly irrelevant and random date, we can't walk. Library fees? Can't walk. Online credits a few days late? Can't walk. Seniors are on edge, wondering what will be next to threaten the moment they've been waiting for sicne they realized school is kind of boring.

It seems as though the administrative department is so intent on us graduating (which we appreciate, because we wouldn't know half of this stuff without them) that they feel they have to be constantly breathing down our necks and viciously threatening us like a murderer threatens a witness to never, ever tell. The threats are making us miserable and giving us kanker sores and probably ulcers, because of course before we can send in that "Intent to Enroll" form and the accompanying tuition and housing deposits, we first must make sure we'll actually make it out of 12th grade.

(Side note: to the underclassmen who think senior year is going to be easy breezy, you are in for a big and extremely unpleasant shock. Sure, no one cares much if you come to class, but you'll still be more stressed out than you've ever been in school - see above note on deadlines.)

I know that I would microwave myself before I'd let myself not graduate, and I'm pretty sure every other senior would agree. We will pull every trick in the book, whether it's five all nighters in a row or dressing up in a suit and convincing the administration not to make us take P.E. (see: Jonathan Draxton, class of 2008). Meetings with our counselors can make us feel organized and on the right track, but they can also make us go home and cry into our pillows for hours on end and finish off that Ben & Jerry's we were saving for a special occasion.

So, on behalf of the seniors of 2009, this is my plea: if we need help, or if we are unsure, we will come find you. Promise. Those little slips just make us want to give you a kidney shot. Don't worry about us, we're in the groove, we will get everything done. Maybe the night before, but we'll do it. And we'll see you on Dozier Field on June 12.