CASTRO: Eulogy to senior year

CASTRO: Eulogy to senior year

Zach Castro


At the end of our time spent at our institute of choice (high school), we remember where we came from and we wonder about where we will go. We think hard and we stress about where we will be in a year or two and we forget what lies immediately in front of us; like the tall green grass swaying in the gentle breeze after a month of rain or the salty ocean water that crawls over our feet while we stroll down the sun drenched beach.

So many of us fantasize about a world outside of Foothill, outside of Ventura, which is not a bad fantasy, yet so many times do we take our little beach town for granted. We look for things we think we cannot find yet Ventura provides us with enough shade and comfort that we don’t always need rush to leave to find somewhere more enjoyable.

Leaving this place is inevitable and we must all see and experience the world in order to learn more than school or university could ever teach us. We distract ourselves in the world of the future only to forget that we must enjoy the time we have left in this small beach town because the world outside of what Ventura encompasses can’t be found anywhere else. Once we’re out of here and we breathe the air of another beach,or another city, we will be happy and excited for our newest journey in another realm. Yet we will yearn for the place that we can truly call home. And what a humble home Ventura is.

For many, high school is a place where you experience grief, bullying and depression. It’s all a sadistic experiment that “the man” makes us endure for his own pleasure. Yet in reality, high school can be a place where you grow, expand your mind and learn to love when the world is not loving you back. Walking onto Foothill’s campus for the first time, freshmen are enchanted by the busy sights and bustling sounds of high school. 

In the final months of senior year, much complaining is to be had. So many hours of homework mulled through that no one wants to do, yet we do it because of the grade, obviously, but because the longer we wait and the more work we think we accomplish, the closer we feel like we might be to the light at the end of the tunnel. Whatever is on the other side must be beautiful.

It must be benevolent and caring for us and our needs, like a mother ready to nurture her newborn babe. Leaving this place, the place where we learned what it means to be a child, what it means to give up being a child and being something like that of an adult, we leave our place of care and friends and ease, into the real world expecting the grace of life to embrace us. Hopefully, this place we leave prepared us for the world out there, full of curveballs and reality.  

We must not worry too much about where we will be in four or five years. Worry, but we must not kill ourselves over the things we think we need to feel great about ourselves to succeed. Just get done what truly believe you need to get done. Think about the things you want to, but stay within your lines of belief, never straying away from your righteous path of your involvement. And when we finally stretch our arms and legs in the glorious sunshine, we will remember all the good times we once had, the beautiful people we have come to know, the friends we have enjoyed old and new, the things we learned. Most importantly, we will feel like the past four years have been for something more than just education or grades, but for something more like a symbol of growth and maturity. Dying and moving on from a child to an adult is never easy, but high school sure as hell made it a little easier.

What do you think?