Update: Lizi’s Senior Year Journal – Pep Rally

Elizabeth Pearl Corey, Co-Editor-in-Chief

Friday 10-06-17: Pep is Just the Prologue

Hundreds of people huddled together, screaming until their vocal chords snap and cheering until their arms fall off. Bright lights and loud music. It’s the one night students, alumni, and even those yet to arrive get to cheer a team of warriors on. Pep rally, Homecoming.

It was the first time that I had ever been able to get a seat in the bleachers. Usually people pack in so quickly that stragglers get the door views. I’m usually one of them, but for this year, I was one of the lucky ones to actually rise above it all and watch the show commence from the top. Naturally, I hadn’t known that each grade gets a specific section, so I ended up with the sophomores, but I wasn’t alone in my rookie “mistake,” and I had friends around, which counts for more, in hindsight.

At the beginning of the night, I followed my friends to the gym, nervous about the events that were to unfold. Good, pumped nerves. I hadn’t even stepped foot in the gym, and already my adrenaline levels were skyrocketing.

We had to wait in front of the doors for a good ten minutes. It was hot and the combined heat of the rim-of-summer air and what seemed like millions of pumped fans, brought the temperature to a good… “layered, dryer-fresh, wool outfit” degrees. Sweat was pouring and complaints were flooding. But, the herd began to move at last, towards the opening doors, and I followed faithfully and gratefully. Distant band music—I believe it was Seven Nation Army—went off a ways away from me. The door was open, but it felt miles away. It was when I finally shuffled along with the crowd that the music grew, finally blasting in my ears and spiking my adrenaline levels past precedent, as the kingdom’s subjects dispersed and found their homes among the stairways to the Heavens. Things were cooler—not much better, but definitely cooler—in the North Gym than it was in the crowded hallways. Drums and brass pierced the air as I spotted my friends and ran to sit with them. As people began to really fill in the seats of this colosseum, excited chatter accompanied the music springing its way into the fresh autumn air. Pep rally came early this year.

Then the party began.

Peter Viskoc, the Student Government president, greeted the crowd, acknowledging the masses gracefully and with all the fervor that a true announcer should have. He, Caitlin Brabant, and Geena Anesta were the ringmasters that night, and the performance groups were talents worthy of the silver screen. He gave the usual announcement and turned things over to the band. With hits like Sweet Caroline, Seven Nation Army, Feel This Moment, and Hey Baby!, the virtuosos of the school reeled the people in. We screamed and sang the lyrics—some people wiggled in their seats, and others stood up to put on a disco of their own. My heart trembled—warm and melting—from the unity we were all sharing, and I even teared up. It was exciting to see people uniting and to witness the beauty and harmony of a mass of beating hearts connecting with one another.

Intertwined with the cheering and the performances to shock-em-all for ages, the classes competed against each other in a scavenger hunt. I wondered how it would play out. To my surprise, people threw the object objectives down to the grade-representative Student Council presidents, and I was worried someone would get hit. My friends and I wondered if backpacks and phones would be raining down onto the gym floors at any moment. Thankfully, they didn’t.

After the traditional pepping up of the football team—cheering for our warriors going into battle against Syosset—watching them tear through a banner and gallop off into the honey-streaming light—and the heart-jolting, eye-catching stunts by the cheerleaders, Dalerettes, and Step Team—especially the final uniting dance—it was time to head out into the real. The real show was about to begin.

As I headed out onto the field, after being confused and going the wrong way at first,

the sun rose in my vision like the dawning of a new excitement, and as I made my way onto the fields, a scene of majesty and unity greeted me. Walking off into the sunset, with me following and the sun and moon at our sides and gleaming down on us, hundreds of silhouettes faded into the distance, into fun and school spirit. The pep rally was just the prologue.

* Video by Greg Petralia, Multimedia Editor


Wednesday 10-04-2017

I might’ve been a little dramatic when writing that last entry. I can be like that. But at the time, it hadn’t set in that I’m a senior. At this point in time, it’s mostly become a well-known fact, so the only strangeness comes from admitting it and looking at my school I.D. card. I do have to say, writing this entire thing is an accurate representation of how senior year feels for me. It’s a little all over the place and can be dramatic or emotional at times. Consider this an emblematic poem. Without the structure or the poetry.

I’m not feeling as much ennui, but I do definitely need to work on my time management and my organization skills for this year. I’ve got major things coming up: SATs, an ACT, The Halloween Parade—and I’ve got seven clubs, a sport, and a personal project that I’m working on, and I’m applying to jobs. Not to mention, I’m going to be visiting colleges at last, and I’ve got all the college prerequisites—application work, and all—to prepare and manage. I also hear that college goes by best when a student is prepared and ready for whatever comes at them—when they’ve got schedules, and times, and plans managed, and they’re actually productive, and actually able to do things successfully and properly. I had hoped to get used to it as my high school years progressed, but it appears that this final destination has come by way quicker than I would have ever imagined it would.

To be completely honest, my workload isn’t as bad as others, so I haven’t got too much to complain about. What I’m getting into is that senior year is a lot different from what I expected it to be. I was hoping that I’d have my life together at this point. But…I guess people can never truly have their life completely together. Life just isn’t like that. It’s spontaneous and sporadic, emotional and capricious, flamboyant and dramatic—even when it’s not. So, really, although my life isn’t going the way I expected it, my life now is a reflection of the way life really is. I might have wanted to get organized by now, but I’ve definitely become better in other ways, and if I keep working towards that goal, I’ll reach it. You’ve got to try to suck all the sap out of life as possible. It’s the honeysuckle, you’re the bee, and you’ve got what it takes, against all the odds, even if the odds are against you. That’s the revelation that is senior year.


Tuesday 09-26-2017

I wrote that little blurb 20 days ago, exactly. I had wanted to write more, but I got stuck in a journalist’s quagmire, and then procrastination took over as school and assignments accelerated, and I got caught in a loop. I’ve got Senioritis—but mostly just the ennui, lack of motivation, tiredness, stress, nostalgia, and longing for the past. I’m still going to classes and doing my work.


Wednesday 09-06-2017

It’s the first day of senior year…

And, back at home, I’m crying.

See, no one believes anyone when they say that the four years of high school will pass by in a blur—I sure didn’t—but they do, and it can be pretty emotional once you realize that you’re a senior—the kings and the queens until graduation, and the next class steps up as successor—and that it’s almost “over.”