I left my dad’s Jeep with my pink backpack slung over my shoulder. Our conversation during the 30-minute ride was centered on my emotions. How was I feeling? Scared. Why was I scared? I didn’t know anybody. How do I make friends? Talk to people. My dad dropped me off, and I walked up the three flights of Community’s stairs for the first time.
But building up the courage and telling my dad that I wanted to attend Community was scarier than that first day.
His story of how I ended up there started one day during my eighth-grade year on the way to school when I told my dad, “I want to go to Community High School. I don’t want to go to Greenhills.”
For context, I went to Greenhills for middle school, and my sister and brother went there for both middle and high school. My sister absolutely loved the environment at Greenhills—it was perfect for her, and she was perfect for it. So was my brother, so when my parents brought up looking at different high schools to him, he didn’t really try. When they asked me, I had a different answer.
This news of my wanting to leave Greenhills came as a shock to my dad, so when he went home, he told my mom right away. At first, my mom struggled with the idea of me going to Community. She didn’t know much about it, and she was scared that if I didn’t get in, I’d have to go to Huron. Knowing me well enough, she believed that if I went to Huron, I would be overwhelmed and scared, facing an even harder transition. And my mom loved Greenhills because she knew all of my siblings’ teachers and we had all thrived there. Both of my siblings had great experiences. So did I, but I wanted something different.
Back to my dad, he went to dinner that night with my sister, her friends and their dads. Somehow, I became the topic of conversation at the ‘dad’ table. My dad started venting about how his youngest child made such a big decision when she usually just goes with the easiest thing possible, which, in this case, would be continuing at Greenhills.
And he was right, I usually don’t make big decisions for myself. I usually follow in my siblings’ footsteps. My brother and sister have paved certain paths for me: where I go to school, what sports I play, what clubs I should join. It was easier for my parents like that. I still got to do certain things that they didn’t, like gymnastics and playing the violin. I was a competitive gymnast for several years and have played the violin for ten. Those activities are special to me because they’re just mine.
But I do love having siblings because they’re always there for me. This summer, I got a lot closer to my sister. We’re four years apart, so we will never overlap during high school or college. It’s sad, but I have gotten to watch her grow up and enter adulthood. Same with my brother; he’s hardworking, social and knows how to share his voice.
Continuing the story, during that dinner, one of my dad’s friends said, “You have two choices here. You can either tell your daughter that you trust and support her and whatever decision she makes, or you can tell her that she’s going to Greenhills and you don’t think she should go to a different school.”
In my opinion, both are reasonable decisions my dad could’ve made. Greenhills is a great school with amazing teachers and rigorous classes. But I thought it lacked other aspects of high school that I was searching for, like taking classes at two high schools, maybe even the University of Michigan in the future, participating in service days right in our community and being a lot closer to my teachers. My dad decided that he was going to trust me and whatever I chose. On the drive to school the next day, my dad let me know that the choice was up to me. He says he remembers it very well, but I forgot it. Apparently, he said, “Remember this moment. We’re letting you make your first adult decision.”
I would guess that I sat in the car, nodding, waiting for him to finish, said thank you, and then got out of the car and went to school like any other day. I needed time to process it, but I’m sure it eased my nerves knowing that I had the power to choose where I would continue my education.
That’s where his side of the story ends. I guess I’ll never know if I made the best decision, but I know I made the right decision for me. This path has led me to amazing friends, teachers and programs that I may not have gotten if I had stayed at Greenhills. Walking into CHS every day brings a sense of comfort and courage. It reminds me that no matter where I am in my life, making decisions can lead to new opportunities. It’s all going to be okay. I am going to be fine.
