Kristen Kinzler

Dear NAI,

The past two years have gone fast, so I’m guessing the final days of the school year will fly by as well. And for some reason, I’m surprised that the thought fills me with just a little bit of dread instead of the typical exhilarating thoughts of summer sunshine. Usually, I’m a girl who looks to the future and plans ahead. I used to not be able to wait until I got to the “big kids’” school– NASH. But with less than a dozen days left at this intermediate high school, I’m feeling a little nostalgic.

I mean, how could I not be? After everything that’s happened here– the greatest hits and the lowest of lows– how do I just accept that I’m leaving the place where I did so much of my growing up? We all walked into these doors as weird little middle schoolers, and at some point, in the past two years, we became whoever we are today.

I, like many of my peers, came to NAI with some very warped expectations that can probably be blamed on Disney Movies (ie High School Musical). I pictured the dances, the Friday night football games, the romance, the big parties. High school comes with a lot of expectations.

Instead, I was met with stress, drama, and the daunting task of figuring out what kind of person I wanted in a world of seemingly endless opportunity. As scary as that was (and still is), I think I got the hang of it.

Here. At NAI.

That’s why it matters so much, why this place touched my heart, why it made me more sentimental than usual.

Because here I met teachers who supported me inside and outside of the classroom. They pushed me out of my comfort zone and inspired me to do better. I could always pop in one of their classrooms and instantly feel comfortable. Their doors were wide open, and they made me believe in myself. That kind of self-confidence is a vital thing to a kid trying to figure themselves out. I still stop in and bother Mr. Lamm when I can, and tell Dr. Gallo all about my current classes and how lacrosse season’s going.

Here, I found a diverse, weirdly wonderful group of friends who made me feel welcome. They made me laugh and smile and take everything in stride. I can officially say that I found some of “my people.”

Here I tried new things. I signed up for  HOSA, a club for kids who want to go into healthcare, and ended up being an officer and loving the responsibility. I played high school lacrosse in all it’s terrifyingly terrific glory. I joined journalism, and it was one of the best decisions of my life– a decision that brought me so much joy and truth and lessons.

And at some point in between discovering and loving everything that this school offered me, I found myself.

To me, that’s what’s growing up’s all about.

It was sitting in the Lounge, writing and discovering a talent I never knew I had. It was the exciting feeling that came when you realized you were doing something you loved and that it felt effortless. It was hanging out with my friends every morning in the alcove at the very top of D-hall, where we’d laugh and complain about how early it was and finish up homework. It was meeting my best friend outside of her English class every day and feeling like everything was right in the world.

It was my locker that jammed every time I tried to put my lacrosse bag in it. It was my math classroom that was always freezing cold. It was working on group projects and goofing off while sitting on the floor in the otherwise empty hallways. It was studying in the library during seventh period like clockwork. It was spraining my ankle on the gravel loop outside. It was being brought nearly to tears in the bathroom after I failed my first test, and, later, figuring out that those tests grades didn’t mean as much as I thought they did. It was hugging my friends in the halls. It was creating some of the oddest, most wonderful memories.

It was everything that happened here. I overcame some of the biggest challenges and rolled with some of the toughest punches. I was taught how to create my own voice. I learned how to use it in an effective manner. I found my worth and happiness outside of scores and statistics. I have never felt more confident or more empowered, and it’s all thanks to the environment I spent the past two years growing up in.

It’s amazing that this school is considered by some to just be a “stepping-stone.” Because when I think of it, I think of bright colors. I think of music filling the rooms and beautiful art lining the walls. I imagine cool furniture and a sense of comfort. This place was never perfect, but I like to think it was full of passion and that unexplainable take-on-the-world kind of feeling. It turned into my own little community– with my friends, teachers, and supporters.

So, I may not look back at ninth and tenth grade and remember the typical high school movie shenanigans. I, unfortunately, did not meet my very own Troy Bolton. And the truth is, I really don’t know if my first two years of high school were supposed to be like this. I don’t know if it was supposed to be more fun and less studying and cheesy self-discovery. But I’m okay with that. Besides, I somehow have a feeling that NAI is an entirely different adventure of its own.

No matter the case, at the end of the day, I’m absolutely sure of one thing: I’ll miss it here.

So, thanks, NAI.

Yours truly,

Kristen Kinzler