It was on a sunny August day when my oblivious fifteen year old self walked up the steps of the massive, looming high school building for the first time. Little did I know that I had walked through the doors of a place that would provide a major turning point in my life. Having only ever shared a class with twenty other students since kindergarten, the thought of facing a freshman class of four hundred fifty people made me sweat through my battered Nike shirt. I was intimidated at first by the massive school; I had come to know it as just a building that towered over my hometown. I now recognize this building as PCHS, a school that is home to nearly two thousand hard-working students. The place that I once feared has ironically become the place where four of the best years of my life have been. Now I sit here, in my senior year of high school, and ponder my background. I think deeply about the journey that these years have taken me on and all of the little details that are so vivid in my mind. My mind suddenly shifts to the thousands of people I have spent my last few years learning with. I think of coming home late from school everyday. My physical self, tattered from baseball, basketball, football, or whatever activity it may have been after the already long school day lies heavily in my thoughts. I think of my run-down mental state bearing down for a long night of homework while ignoring my exhaustion. This experience has molded me into the man that I am today.

I was fortunate to have a humble upbringing at St. Joseph School where I participated in just about everything that was offered to me. I played on the baseball team that took fifth through eighth graders just to have enough people to even have a team. Sometimes this included letting the girls play who wanted to be on the team. Basketball games encouraged me to give everything that I had not only because of my love for the game, but because oftentimes we would not have enough players to get anybody a break from the action. The many miles my little cross country and track team would run after school taught me how to work hard each and every day. Student council and scholastic bowl helped me develop a strong mind and guided me in maintaining excellent grades in the classroom through it all. As I have moved on in my academic career, I have taken with me the grit, hard work, intelligence, and independence that this little brick school instilled in me.

My highschool career took every ounce of strength and determination that I could possibly have. I reflect on the moments that got me to where I am today; I think of the basketball practices that worked me so hard until I was on the ground gasping for air, the snowy football practices where I would be freezing in a t-shirt, and the baseball practices where I would keep on running and up and down hills even though I had torn my knee. I think of the nights of staying up until 4 A.M. just so I could have everything ready for the next day of work. The challenge increased immensely since my days at St. Joseph School, but so did my work ethic and performance. I know me as a scrawny 5 year old beginning at St. Joesphs would be ecstatic about what I have become at this point in my life.

I am only one out of thousands of highschool students from thousands of high schools in this country. Every American, especially in this time of their life, has their own unique story because it takes a lot of power to be successful through whatever might be challenging throughout these days. The freedom of America provides this beautiful time for young adults to prosper and grow as people.

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