The thought of leaving Minocqua had always fascinated me: I wanted to meet new people, have opportunities and experiences a small town like Minocqua could not offer. But I never took the idea seriously — moving was just hypothetical. Then at the end of my sophomore year, my dad announced he was offered a job in Middleton, Wisconsin, and was considering accepting the position. The hypothetical instantly became a reality, and I was no longer excited. I realized that along with having the new experiences I always desired, moving also meant leaving everything I had known since I was two.
On my first day at Middleton High School, I stood by my locker for several minutes, paralyzed by the sight of the wide hallway swarming with people I didn’t recognize. I had just moved from a school with a student body of five hundred to one with a class size of five hundred. At my old high school, Lakeland Union, I was the class president and knew most of the students in other grades from sports and extracurricular activities. Furthermore, I was familiar with the town
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I asked others for help, but their directions consisted of unfamiliar landmarks I was unfamiliar with, like Four Corners and the Student Center. As I finally reached my classrooms, I walked in anxiously, only to find them bustling with students engrossed in jubilant conversations about their summers. Determined to acquaint myself with my classmates, I attempted to join their conversations, but I quickly got lost in their words as they referenced people and places I did not recognize. Perplexed, I remained quiet. Outside of class was a similar situation as I drifted from one lunch table to another, trying to find a group that I liked, and more importantly, liked me. Every new group I sat with discussed unfamiliar topics, and as much as I wanted to converse with them, I was unable