top of page
Search
Writer's pictureMare Kusmer

Who Gave Me Permission to be a Senior?



In August I moved back to Ohio State for my senior year of college. It still sounds so weird to say that. I'm a senior I college. That's just wild. I feel like I was just a senior in high school, finally a captain on my cross country team, a second-year Wildcat Focus Mentor (a program where upperclassmen taught a class to freshman on adjusting to high school), and about to decide where I was going to go to college. And now I'm student teaching two days a week in a high school French class, surrounded by kids who are about to do all of the same things I did.

My feelings about senior year were very mixed. On one hand, I was thrilled to be going back to school, going to football games, hanging out with my friends, turning 21, and seeing people I hadn't seen in months. But on the other hand, I was sad. This is my last fall semester, which was always my favorite, my last football season, my last first day of school, and my last year living with my best friends, being surrounded only only people my age.

Now that I'm deep into the semester and overwhelmed with the million things I have going on at all times, I wish my biggest concern was the sadness that came with those realizations. But I'm not unhappy by any means, just busy.

I've always loved the beginning of the school year. September always felt more to me like the beginning of a new year than January first did; I've always measured my life by academic years, always filled with excitement about the new opportunities coming my way. One of the beautiful things about being a future teacher is that this form of measurement will continue into my career. I truly don't think I can do anything but teach -- I've discovered that it's truly what I'm meant to do. But more on that in an other post.

Another new thing that came with senior year: I finally got to bring my family's Nissan Sentra down to OSU. Last year I drove my grandma's Honda Fit to student teaching, but this year my parents let me take the Sentra (I'm really the only one that drives it anyway), who I lovingly named Stella my senior year of high school. Another parallel.

I'm have to admit, I'm glad to finally be a senior. This year is already stressful, and I know it's only going to get worse the closer I get to edTPA, licensure exams, and graduation, but I'm so excited for what the future has in store. Since sophomore year, I've been balancing work, school, running, and my sorority. Now, student teaching is practically a part-time job and has its own demands. I'm looking forward to the day when work and school are the same thing.

My 21st birthday marked my first week of senior year-- I turned 21 on the first day of class. Lucky me. I can't really think of a better way to start of my last year of college. To be honest, despite any difficulties that I've experienced thus far, senior year is looking to be my best year of college, just as my senior year of high school was. I think this is heavily due to the growing I did in the past six months, what I learned about myself as a person and a woman while abroad, and the experiences that have helped to shape the way I view people and life. I'm excited to see what the rest of this year brings with it.


Tune into my next post to read all about what I did to celebrate finally being 21.

12 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page