Dear Mom and Dad,

I carry it on my shoulders, nestled in a bright pink back pack. Some days it weighs more than me, other days I do not even know it is there. I carry my future. Its hidden away within all my supplies. Every pencil, sheet of notebook paper, and tattered binders holds some of it. Why must I have to carry this much of my life in a backpack around a high school?  I’m 16 wanting to grow up, but not quite ready, and yet I use my backpack every day to carry my entire future on my shoulders. As my parents you put the most pressure on me, this test tomorrow will be brutal if I do not do as well as I need to.

It may seem silly to you for me to say I carry around my future, but I honestly do. With the pressures and expectations of you two, some days its almost impossible. I’m expected to get nothing but outstanding grades, be involved in school, excel in sports, have  a job and on top of all that have a social life and get a total of  eight hours of sleep at night. When my alarm goes off at at six in the morning I roll over, wrapped in the cocoon of a heavenly, cloud like comforter, and wish my day away. To stay in bed and sleep until I felt I was fully rested would be a luxury. But there are only so many times I can hit snooze until you, Mom, come in with a mission of your own. I lay there as long as I can thinking about my day; my chemistry test.  Slowly climbing out of bed, I drag myself  through the morning to start my day. The last thing I grab while walking out the door is my backpack. I need my backpack everyday, without it I would be completely lost. Today it holds my study guide for chemistry, which I will be memorizing and reading over, hammering into my brain, every free second I have until third hour.  The dreams of having a successful, prosperous future rested in the minds of every teenager. I must complete homework, study, read, and write, all with the help of my handy backpack. The pressure sometimes seems unbearable. But I will pass this test.

As I walk through the halls of bedford high school the smells of unhygienic teenagers fill the air. I carry my backpack through the bundles of kids. Tile floors squeak under feet, while locker doors slam in frustration. I’m surrounded by white and grey except for the sporadic posters energetically painted, promoting various school activities. The humid, stuffy air of high schools is enough to make anyone sweat. My bag feels heavier today, like I added a few extra bricks to it this morning, probably from the scribbled on and crumbled pages of my study guide. Weighing down on my back, my shoulders slump and my pace slows. It is like this sometimes, on the days of big tests, exams, or projects. The need to please parents, and teachers, and my own yearning for a successful future cloud my mind. The outcome of each and every one of my days affects my future. I carry it around.

Standing tall at the front of each classroom you’ll find a teacher. Each with their own teaching styles. Some are inpatient and stricted, while others are laid back and goofy. Then there are the teachers with the monotone voices that can put one class to sleep within the first few minutes of a lecture. My favorite kind are the friendly ones, the ones that understand the pressures. These teachers take the time with each of their students making sure they know the curriculum. This helps some days, when my bag feels heavy. Walking into chemistry I see my teacher, he wears a microphone, goofy ties and always a smile. But today the smile is deceiving, he holds, in his hands, my chemistry test. Reading as fast as I can, I try to cram in as much information my brain is capable of obtaining in the few minutes before the bell rings. My sweaty fingers cling to the plastic mechanical pencil I chose to use. As my teacher begins to pass out the tests I give myself a little pep-talk. Ya see, I know everything on this test. My final grade will depend on how panicked I get, and that will determine how much I actually remember. I breeze through the test only to go back and second guess every one of my answers. I turn my test in, sealing my fate. There is no going back now, I can only pray I put in enough studying to  pass.

I’m not sure what the grade I got on that test was yet, but I know I have a bright and promising future even on the days when my bag is the heaviest. You guys add to that pressure, I know you do not mean to, and sometimes it’s helpful, but it’s always there. Reminding me what I need to do, how I need to act, and showing me the promises of tomorrow, I carry it on my shoulders, nestled in a bright pink back pack. I carry my future.

    Love Always,

        Madeline