Ever since I declared a double major in history, I've questioned if it was actually a good decision. Every quarter I think, "Was this a mistake?"

Why is history important? This question was the root of my concern. For a while, I didn't have an answer. History fascinates me and I enjoy learning about it, but I kept thinking, "Why does it matter that I study history?"

Now that I am over halfway finished with the major, I know why.

History is everywhere. History exists in everything: in clothes, in objects, in furniture, in animals, in people. History is a mass collection of stories, and there is a story behind everything.

One year ago is history. One day ago is history. One minute ago is history. The time I spent writing this article is embedded in my own personal history.

A person's memories are parts of history. When you share a memory, you're sharing a piece of your history. From every experience, every moment of your life, there are the fragments of history you remember and the ones you forget.

Humans are all a part of history. Our actions define and determine it. History helps us understand where we've been, where we are, and where we're going. My dad says, "Everyone's nothing but a walking history book."

There's a saying that goes, "History repeats itself." Invasions. Wars. Disease. Conquests. History is full of them. They occurred over and over. Understanding history can prevent us from repeating the same mistakes. There were two world wars. Recognizing the events that instigated both can help us prevent a third.

I wish I could have realized this earlier, but I move at a snail's pace. History is more than a textbook full of dead guys.