The word “relief” cannot be defined simply. Everyone experiences relief in a varying number of ways, making it impossible to relate certain types of relief to other types. Compare relief to pain. “Pain” may just be a word, but what that word means to two people can be entirely different. The way pain can affect an individual depends on the amount of pain they’ve experienced, how they’ve gotten over it and how they’ve grown from their experiences with pain. The same is true with relief. When it comes to our own happiness, I find it true that happiness may be granted to us when we have an absence of pain, making pain a subjective feeling that can be felt at a variety of levels for numerous reasons.

The concept of relief is similar. Depending on the situation, feelings of relief can be powerful or subtle, but are always necessary sensations that need to be experienced in this crazy maze of life we live in. To one individual, relief could be as simple as finishing a homework assignment early and having a “stress free” weekend. For others, relief could be more melancholy, like having a family member peacefully pass away after years of suffering. As pain can be interpreted as an absence of happiness, relief could be the absence of distress or tension.

When I was in middle school, I always felt like I was a part of a robotic, standardized system of routine and unnecessary order. I was being confined by cold, gray, cement walls; surrounded by students who didn’t share the passions I did. I was memorizing useless information that didn’t interest me at all, like reciting the first 50 digits of Pi and familiarizing myself with endless historical dates, but not knowing their importance. I felt inclined to wear things that didn’t suit me. My closet filled with Hollister shirts and “Pink” leggings, brands that I could care less about, but were deemed “cool” by my peers. I spoke in ways that made me feel unintelligent and superficial. I was timid and afraid to be myself, whoever that was. The typical personality of a public schooled thirteen year old was just about the opposite of who I was, and I knew that I needed to find a place that felt right. I needed to be in a school where I felt I had purpose, where I could grow and learn, where I was allowed to elaborate on my thoughts and challenge others’ ideas. A place where I could study the things that I loved. I needed to go to a school that I was genuinely happy to be in while I was growing into the person I wanted to become.

On my first day at a small little charter school called Cocheco Academy of the Arts, I felt like a person and not just a number in a system. I was greeted at the door by teachers who asked me questions about what I loved and cared about. Students with blue hair and outfits they designed themselves rushed up to me to show their sculptures and melodic compositions, asking for my input. There were no cliques or people who thought they were superior to others, and no requirements on how to look, act, or dress.

Besides my academic classes, I chose to take jazz vocals, guitar, theatre, and a debate class. How cool is that? My classes were taught by people just as eccentric as the student body. At first, I was shy to be myself, but as my teachers forced me out of my shell, I began to like arguing points and speaking out more and more.

“Why, Sophie? How?” People would constantly ask me. Then, I would be forced to think more critically about what I was saying. When I didn’t understand things, I knew that anyone at that school could sit down with me and talk to me about whatever my issue was until I understood.

The relief I felt realizing that I could learn and study the things I loved filled me with a joy that I felt anytime I was there. I finally found enjoyment in going to school and taking part in classes that I was passionate about such as acting and writing. I knew my last four years of grade-school would be focused on the things I really cared about, taught to me by people who really cared about what they were doing. If I didn’t find this relief, then I wouldn’t have had the experiences in high-school that I have had.

Relief can be interpreted in an endless number of ways. It is different for everyone. For me, the first major feeling of relief related to my education. I was finally far, far away from learning styles that didn’t suit me. In classes, I studied things through discussion and observation. I didn’t just learn the “how,” but the “why,” too; why something was important and why it needed to be taught to me. I made mistakes and learned from them. Transferring from my last school to Cocheco lifted a weight off my back, and I no longer felt that my schooling was irrelevant.

As long as our human race continues to develop, emotions will be a prevalent part of what defines us as a species. Relief is one of these emotions. I experienced it when I made the transition to the charter school that I still attend today. Relief can be found if you fill your life with people and places that make you happy, and leave no room for the things that don’t.