Dear College,
I know we aren’t exactly on great terms right now, but I feel the need to talk some things out with you. These past few weeks, you’ve made my life torturous. You took away a good 70% of my friends, including my best friend since sixth grade and another two from different schools that I would spend time with every chance I got. You gave me a few weeks of, not just tearful but chest-aching, tear-streaming, gut-wrenching goodbyes to some people who have made my life amazing these past few years. And sure, we’ll FaceTime and text, and I’ll see them again at Thanksgiving or I’ll visit them before that; but you still ripped them away and left me to go through senior year without them. So thanks a lot for that.
You’ve also given me the delightful task of filling out the common application and the essays that go along with it these past few weeks. What on earth makes you so special that I need to spend my last few weeks of summer giving information about myself so that I can be “worthy” enough to attend you? Well, technically that’s been due to my mother’s insistence that I get it done before school starts, but that’s not the point. You’ve been basically the only thing that strangers and distant relatives talk to me about, and it gets really old really fast. Just thinking about you right now makes me want to watch every season of 30 Rock (again) as a distraction, so you being the topic of all my small talk has been incredibly irritating.
You make your way into all of my older friends’ social media posts (they love you right now, by the way), all dinner table conversations, and most of my laptop’s bookmarked pages. So if I can’t escape you, I’m going to try to reason with you.
As for the vast majority of my friends that you’ve taken: Please take care of them. I don’t see them in the hallways, at rehearsal, or at youth group anymore, but you’re with them every day. Make sure they’re having fun, studying hard, and that they make a nice group of new friends that positively influence them. If they get homesick or sad, remind them that I’m always only a text, phone call, or video chat away. Provide them with a ton of new opportunities and let them shine in ways that high school didn’t let them.
As for me and my friends who are actually my age? Please go easy on us this year. When you reject us, at least have the common courtesy to slip a few bucks in our lockers for Orem’s milkshakes. Know that we won’t let you overpower us with your stressful ways and your ever-present threats, and that we’re going to support each other no matter what you throw at us. There will be a time when, like my older friends right now, we’ll love you! But until then, you don’t have power over us. Do your worst, and we’ll come back even stronger. But we’ll be together a lot this year, so try to at least make it a little pleasant.
Oh, and could you please chill with the constant emails?
Sincerely, Your Friendly Neighborhood Senior




Brooke Amodei is a senior at Wilton High School. She shares this column with four classmates.