Adviser’s Note:  The prompt was to write about a pre-conceived notion that proved false.  Creative Writing student Lily Gretzinger’s experience should be encouraging to incoming freshmen or transfer students.

“All right, have a good day. I love you, and I believe in you. Everything is going to be okay,” my mom reassured me, looking at me from the driver’s seat of the car.  

I gulped and nodded, pulling nervously at the straps of my backpack. It was my first day of high school at Notre Dame Academy, and I was terrified. I had heard hundreds of stories from my brother, mother, and older friends about impossible classes, stuck lockers, malicious teachers, and cruel students. I wasn’t just scared about my classes! Getting to the classrooms scared me too. Compared to my small middle school, Notre Dame seemed like an unending labyrinth. 

I stared up at the arched entryway of the school, the warm August sun shining on my back. I took a deep breath and stepped into the shade of the school building. Since it was the first day of school, there were only freshmen. To my relief, I recognized some old acquaintances from my middle school milling in the hallway. Although I saw a lot of my friends in the hallway, I quickly realized that most of them had a completely different schedule than I did. My anxiety only grew. Suddenly, the bell rang to signify the start of the first passing period.

“Okay,” I breathed out raggedly, trying to remember the room number of my first class. “I got this.”

The first couple classes were a lot easier than I expected. First I had Spanish. After that it was Algebra II and Theology. I was thrilled to realize that I knew multiple people in my fourth-hour choir class. My stomach rumbled throughout 5a, but I still ended up enjoying my history class. I found some friends to sit with for lunch and then made my way to my sixth-hour study hall. I closed out the day with English and ICP. 

I made my way down to my mom’s classroom after school in a daze. It wasn’t an amazing first day, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. My mom smiled as I told this all to her.

“I knew you could do it,” she proclaimed, stacking her own school books and packing them into a bag. 

Originally, the thought of attending Notre Dame terrified me. As time passed, I slowly realized I had been proven wrong. I made a lot more friends than I had in middle school. The musical and play started to open auditions, and I felt myself slowly discovering who I wanted to be as a person. I realized that the cruel students, malicious teachers, and impossible classes had all been greatly embellished. Even navigating the school became easier after a few weeks of practice. Although maybe the stories were right about the stuck lockers…