11th grade: Tilt-a-whirl

It was all a blur. We came out of it feeling more than a bit nauseous. But for some reason, junior year will always hold a special place in our hearts. Even though we were constantly speeding through an endless cycle of scantrons, exams, essays and questionnaires, we still managed to find time to waste with our friends. We traveled through American history through a history textbook and a series of novels. The words of Toni Morrison and Abraham Lincoln both guided us to confront slavery. The Jazz Age that Fitzgerald presented in “The Great Gatsby” came to life in our classmates’ jazz concerts throughout the year. Moments like when Casper Stockwell brought his pet pig, Bob, to semiformal and proclaimed that “no woman could amount to the bond that me and my pig share” kept us going through the long, dark nights spent hunched over desks. Most of us got our first tastes of college life on spring break trips. The year came to a deafening crescendo as we tore the wrapping off of too many APs like Christmas presents. Finally, we were done. The hard part was over, we knew. The end was in sight. And all we could do while walking away from our time in 11th grade was snicker at those underclassmen who were boarding the ride right behind us.

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