Last weekend, I headed up to Boston for round one of my Senior Week/College Graduation events. Walking around campus felt weird – I’d simultaneously felt like I’d already moved on, especially as everyone cried about having their last classes, while I’ve been out of classes for months, and like I wasn’t ready to leave. Every building I walked by on campus has these ridiculously vivid memories – classes I’ve taken, events I attended, places I’d lived – that I couldn’t stop thinking about as I walked around. Boston has become more of a hometown to me than anywhere else I can think of, and the thought of leaving for good is kind of heartbreaking. 

Moving around a lot as a kid and attending four (!!) different schools during my four years of high school led me to not attach myself too strongly to any school or any place. When high school ended, I was more than happy to move on.  I was ready to tackle college, and aside from a very small handful of good friends (Hi Kaitlin!), there wasn’t much I’d miss about high school. Same goes for every time I moved – my family always seemed to time our movings to coincide with a rough patch in my life, so moving to a new place seemed like an excellent way to make a needed change. Sure, there were friends I missed like crazy and little things about each town we lived in I was sad to leave behind, but I never found myself thinking, “I’m really not ready to leave.” 

Leaving Boston is and will be so much different. While I’ve come and gone from Boston for the last four years for summers and vacations, I always knew I was coming back. It always seemed like a home base. This “semester” at home has felt like that too. While I know in my mind I’m done with school, I’ve still known I would be heading back for Senior Week and graduation. I still knew I’d see all my friends again. After graduation, though, I’m going to be joining everyone else in the collective freak-out of “Oh my god, I really have to leave now, don’t I?!”

During Senior Breakfast, they showed a “slideshow” of every group picture from our orientation four years ago. When I saw my group’s picture, I saw my blond, shorter hair, my heinous pink t-shirt I thought was fierce, and one of my best friends I hadn’t realized was in my orientation group until sophomore year when we’d been discussing our various orientation leaders over lunch and discovered the coincidence. It felt like SO long ago, while simultaneously feeling like it was only yesterday, like I still needed more time in this place. Then I saw that same friend presented with an amazing award, and while the Dean of Students read of a list of all the accomplishments my friend had racked up in the last four years, I realized we all had enough time in college. We’d all done amazing things, made our mark there, and maybe were ready to move on. 

That night, I attended a special dinner party for all the Teach For America corps members from my school at the Dean of Student’s house (who, by the way, is the greatest school administrator, possibly ever. I follow him on twitter, and I’m told he once held a High School Musical 2 viewing party at his house. To say I was excited to be invited to this dinner would be a gross understatement.) Talking to the other corps members about where we were headed, about teacher certification tests, curriculum changes, and of course, that pesky achievement gap, I felt ready – ready to take on another ridiculous challenge, ready to call another city home, and ready to leave that blond-haired, pink-shirt wearing college girl behind. Almost. No, I am…I think.  

Friday, I head up for the 10-day extravaganza that is Senior Week and Graduation. At the end of it, my family will join me in Boston, take me on a Duck Tour, and watch me graduate from college. Hopefully, by the end of it, I’ll be ready to say good-by to Boston…but that doesn’t mean I won’t be bawling as I do it.