This year I moved to Grandville High School. A place where I didn’t know a soul. Imagine for a moment, walking into a building where there are people streaming up and down stairs like two steady flowing rivers. Their noise louder than a waterfall that makes the river below quake with it’s force. All of this and you don’t recognize a single face in the crowd and not a single one recognizes you. I thankfully met someone at registration who was nice enough to invite me to eat lunch with her but there was no denying how lonely I still felt. I would sit and look around at all of the unfamiliar faces and wonder who these people, that I would now be encountering everyday, even were. Who they were friends with, what they did, what they liked, if I would like them. This got me through lunch but it was my least favorite part of the day. The people around me laughed  and joked as I sat mostly silent and ate my food. They would ask me questions trying to involve me but I felt like their attempts were only half hearted and forced. I knew sitting alone was a worse option so I kept sitting with them day in and day out and they soon became friends instead of the people I had to sit by.
I thought that moving was the worst thing I had ever done. I was lucky enough to get some say in where I went to school and with some persuasion from my parents I actually chose to move. I enjoy being alone but I don’t enjoy feeling alone. This made the first few weeks rough. It took me a few months but I finally went to my first Grandville football game when I felt I had enough friends to sustain myself for a few hours in a crowd. That night was one of the craziest I had ever had. The school I came from wasn’t considered too small but the size of the stadium and the crowds was nothing compared to what I was used to. It was loud, it was crazy, and I loved it. One of the friends I made in class found me and introduced me to the people around us and it was the first time I was actually comfortable at my new school. I came home smiling, telling my parents of the great times I had and people I met and I started thinking maybe I did make the right decision.
This isn’t the first time I’ve moved and I think anyone else that has had to go to a different school can relate when I say that the first semester is always the hardest. Now I’m looking at the home stretch of Freshman year and I can’t imagine my life without this change in it. I have met some great people and have even managed to become closer with some from my last school in ways that I never imagined I would. This place isn’t too bad after all.