An open letter to the Class of 2009
By Melissa Blake - Community Columnist
You know you’re old (or at least not young anymore) when the cousins you still picture as bouncy babies graduate, not the eighth grade, but high school. It’s sadly happened to me twice now: My cousin, Alex, threw off his cap last year, and I was decked out in my Hawaiian best (at the request of the graduate) last weekend for my cousin Lindsay’s big send-off into the big wide world.
And she was just as I expected her to be: brimming with bubbly excitement, her eyes sparkling with the sort of wild and carefree ambition (and abandon) that is reserved for the under-20 set. And maybe amidst that mound of gifts, she’ll find that book by the good doctor, "Oh, The Places You’ll Go." Dr. Seuss struck pure gold with that little book about the ups and downs, told in classic Seuss style, offering some great life advice for you on your path to greatness. The times you’ll fail, the times you’ll question whether you can scale that mountain, the times you just want to sit down and cry with a box of Kleenex.
But there are some smaller moments that Dr. Seuss forgot to mention. Some may say they are rather insignificant moments, but they’re wrong. So to Lindsay and the Class of 2009 everywhere, I offer these words (my apologies for not writing them in Seuss style)…
You’ll of course think you’re independent, and maybe you are. Yet don’t be surprised if you’re secretly glad that home is still a phone call or even a drive away. Your family doesn’t come with an expiration date, remember. They may come in heavy doses sometimes (both sour and sweet), but they’ll never go stale. Be glad for that.
And you will go home, even though you once swore you never would. You’ll probably bring a load of laundry home, too, and take some of your mom’s yummy cookies back to the dorms with you. You won’t admit it, but you’ll want to take a little piece of home with you.
You’ll go to classes – lots of them, actually. Some of them you’ll like. Some of them you won’t. And in some, you’ll think you know more than the professor (well, at least I did). But I guarantee that you’ll learn something in every classroom – and even more outside the classroom.
You’ll get your first glimpse of the “real world” on your own. You might even find it a bit scary; heck, even I still find it scary a lot of the time. But if you keep your eyes straight and your head firmly affixed to your shoulders, you shouldn’t find yourself getting into too much trouble.
You’ll make friends and find some romance along the way. Some will break your heart and some will turn into lifelong friends. Cherish them because they’ll cherish you.
But the biggest lesson you’ll learn? You never stop learning. Not even after you throw your next cap in the air four years later at your college graduation. You’ll think you’re “done,” but remember that the journey is really just beginning.
And on this journey, you’ll inevitably stop by your trusty ATM machine. You’ll panic, and then call or go home. Again.
• Melissa Blake, a lifelong resident of DeKalb, is a freelance journalist and writer. She is the adviser to the Kishwaukee College newspaper, the Kaleidoscope. She can be contacted at mellow1422@aol.com.
