I remember my first day
when my mom said
“if anything happens, I’ll transfer you right out
and put you into PHS”
When I first got to high school,
I was expecting it to be a lot like an early 2000’s teen movie
A Blink-182 or Sum 41 soundtrack
Always playing in the background
I’d get that cliche love story
I wanted it to be like a high school musical
Channel my inner Gabriella Montez
Who won the heart of the captain of the
and still had time to get into Stanford
and sing a couple ballads
Semi-punk rock, awkward, shy, anti-social girl
lover of all things Harry Styles
Long hair only a couple will recall
Chubby, badly dressed teen with bad eyebrows
I got put into an academy I didn’t even want
Who wants to count numbers when I could be singing
choruses with my very own Troy Bolton
I get to school and people are already in there cliques.
The jocks in one area,
Doing their thing,
The cheerleaders in another,
People pass by,
Time passes by,
And finally English.
Mrs. Parent is forcing us to write some poem
I’ve got words to rhyme,
Under a limit of time.
And I’m not even paid a dime.
I don’t like to write poems when I’m told to.
I need to be inspired.
Not just write them when they’re desired.
But I’m afraid,
This counts toward my grade.
I still think I should be getting paid.
So how about I tell you about why I write?
I hope you find it such a delight.
Writing is my way to tell a story,
Either about others or myself.
Somewhere along the way,
You might find clues,
Of what I went through.
I don’t write out of boredom or to entertain.
I write to show my pain.
Writing is my muse.
But sometimes people get confused.
Wondering why I write about me and others being abused.
The answer is simply because I can.
You’ll probably never understand.
Did I even have a sophomore year?
I haven’t transferred to PHS
My parents think this a good sign, maybe this is a good school
I haven’t changed academies,
mainly because I can’t face Mr. Ortega again
after confusing him for a choir teacher my first year
maybe it’s because I love this blonde, perky teacher who doesn’t have kids
but loves cats
who showed my class that you can kill your husband
with a lamb leg and then
cook it to the cops
and that’s how you get away with murder
I’m getting there, slowly but surely
My eyebrows are slightly better
uneven tan on my arms from a softball jersey
that can’t seem to stay in one place
in history class, we’re trying to decide who to give a kidney to
and somehow I end up being the only one who choses the prostitute
a subliminal foreshadow to the activist I am now
11th grade is coming to an end and
I make the decision to turn everything around
This could be the start of something new
Semi-punk awkward girl
now turned feminist, dirty hippy poet
who’s always down for a debate and an adventure
a Queen enthusiast
who will win an Oscar for the best lip syncing performance
of “Bohemian Rhapsody”
who’s just looking for Somebody to Love
3 different best friends
13 different crushes
1 major heart break
10 different shades of haircolors
that long hair is now gone
see I cut it every time I need to heal and move on
with eyebrows that are finally at their prime
Taylor Swift in spirit animal
because I write about the boys in my life
so good they don’t even know where to hurt
an open book
broken spine, ripped pages and all but someone still picks me up and wants to read me
is just another chapter in my life that’s ending
because now, I Gotta Go My Own Way
But I take with me all it's lessons
it is high school where I learned that:
yes Troy Bolton got into UC Berkeley
and hey, apparently everyone else can too
that it’s okay to “let people down”
because I am never going to give anyone what they expect
That you can go from fearing the stage
To then demanding it
Walking across it
I guess this is a bit like a high school musical?
I’ve lost the best teachers that made a classroom enjoyable
but I gained other’s who are now mentors
who remind me constantly to keep my Head in the Game
My family is here at Muir
who showed me that I don’t need to Stick to the Status Quo
The business academy are like my parents
AEM, is like that favorite uncle
Who always having my back and spoils me rotten
EESA is that family member that you never really know
if they dislike you or not
but no matter the differences that may divide our school,
we coincide as a family
a reminder that We Are All in This Together