Wolves.

The advice from every senior to the freshmen. Three years ago, when I was a bright-eyed freshmen, I ate up every word the seniors would say. They had been here in this school for four years, they had to know what they were talking about. Right? So I listened. I did my homework, I never questioned superiority, and I got involved.

With everything.

The administration gladly supported their advice. Every year they preach the same words of wisdom to the freshmen, "Get involved!" 

"Clubs, sports, music, drama, speech, THAT'S A DO!"

"And let us not forget to stress the importance of how fantastic it is to take as many AP classes as you can," the administrators thought to themselves. 

Then there was me, sitting there, watching the announcements, thinking this was the place where I could do everything. Kennedy had managed to make the impossible, possible. 

Off I went, joint show choir and band and then diving and then one acts and then speech and then track and I took an AP class and I joined student government. Sleep was for the weak. I was expected to do everything, so I did. Freshmen year went by and at times it was hard, but I survived. Sophomore year I took a more rigorous course and school itself got harder, as was expected, but everyone else was sleep deprived and struggling, it was normal. Right? Junior year came, the most important year they say, and along came two jobs on top of my schedule. 

That was the tipping point. 

When the time comes and you grow old and wise and become a senior, give meaningful advice. If you tell students to get involved, list the consequences. Do not just throw them to the wolves. The stress, anxiety, and sleep deprivation, claws and bites just as wolves would. Remind them that the best weapons they have against wolves are organization and responsibility, and maybe they will survive with less scars than we came out with. 

JSL