628 days; the approximate number of days that I will have attended class at Canyon High when I graduate. 628 days, and I still do not know the names of more than 40 members of the graduating class. Perhaps that is the best indication of how little high school affected my life.  

Despite the widespread notion that high school is one of the most important parts of people’s lives, looked back on with nostalgia and reverence, I am simply apathetic to the whole experience. I’m not apathetic because I think I’m above high school or because I’m miserable, but rather because I haven’t done anything significant or memorable in the four years I’ve attended. I never joined a club; most sports refused to sign me for some unknown reason; I squirmed my way around group work more often than not; and watched bemused as people trip over the social barrier that is my wheelchair. Even after 10 years in the same public school district, I am genuinely surprised when people call me out by name because for the past decade I have been sitting in corners with my head down. The most socialization I have managed is mocking people for their inability to write. The most effort I have put forth is futilely raising the quality of writing on a website that no one will ever read.

Despite my apathy over the past four years, I am not without fond memories. For four years, I have sat back and observed many a curious phenomenon. I’ve watched kids ask ludicrous questions, jump on desks, spin absurd lies, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the mocking. I’ve also met a slew of wonderful staff members

The disappointing truth of the matter is that high school was neither thrilling nor horrible. I didn’t spend my years partying nor did I spend them in the fetal position. I simply had an extraordinarily boring four years that will barely register as a blip on the story of my life.