Dear Normal Community High School,

Thank you.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for an incredible and unforgettable four years.

I remember walking out of the hallway with my dad after freshman orientation. My dad pointed to the left down the hall. On the wall read "Stand out, be seen, we're the class of 2015!"

"2015. That's the year you graduate."

"Yep."

"That seems such a long ways away."

Fast forward three years and here I am sitting at the island in my kitchen thinking back on high school. I am a high school graduate. I'm done. I'm a week away from moving in to my freshman dorm. I'm so ready. I'm so ready for independence and newness. I'm ready to find out what my true passions are and to make new friends that I'm told will last a lifetime. I'm ready for new responsibilities and new memories.

Some teachers at my college freshman orientation last year painted a picture that stuck with me. They said all of us (incoming freshmen) have been like fish. All this time, up until now, we've been in a bubble. We've lived in a bubble of our parents, teachers, mentors, and guardians telling us what to do. We've become used to these people holding our hands and guiding us through every step of the way.

Then they showed a fish being shot out of the water. Coming into college, we're that fish. We're being shoved, pushed, and shot into the "real world." It's exciting, nerve-wracking, and scary all at the same time. College.

Let's take a few steps back. Back to the "bubble." Back to the reality that I thought was high school. So many wonderful memories that have all blended together to become one big blob of happiness in my heart. Normal Community High School will always have a special place in my heart for many reasons.

Going back to my first class of high school my freshman year: Having a list in my head of which of my friends from junior high will be in each and every one of my classes. I've got the school map in one hand and my schedule in the other, and I walk into class. I don't know a solid 80% of the people in the room, and I'm instantly intimidated. I do my best to tune out the massive beating of my heart and sit down as quietly as I can. I can't do anything to draw attention to myself. That would be too embarrassing. Skip forward a little bit to my first Friday night football game. I have my group of friends by me, and we're all decked out in our orange and black spirit ware. The seniors look so big and intimidating as they scream at the top of their lungs "TOUCHDOWN!" I think I'm going to like it here. Skip ahead a to my first homecoming assembly and dance. I had picked out my dress weeks (or months) earlier. I had a hair appointment scheduled, and my shoes were sitting in my room ready to be worn. I remember wearing my blue dress, black heels, and taking pictures with my best girlfriends at McGraw Park. I could get used to this. Suddenly the huge school didn't seem as big anymore. Little did I know that this school would end up meaning more to me than I ever could've imagined.

Sophomore year-- kind of the in between year. I've already got a whole year of high school under my belt. I know the school like the back of my hand (sort of), and I've started to form my circle of friends. This is the year I made the dance team, too, and the memories that come with that could become a whole new article by themselves. I'll save you the trouble of listing all of them out. Through the dance team, though, I was blessed to meet new people. I was pushed to jump out of my shell to perform in front of the whole entire school--talk about a heart attack! I can't explain the rush that comes with performing, though. Right before I dance, the adrenaline makes me feel like I'm going to pee my pants...literally every single time, and then what seems like 30 seconds later the dance is done and everyone is cheering. I want to do it again. Sophomore year was the year I got an actual role (Potiphar's Wife) in the school's musical. I was to play the role of a seductress. Enough said. I was petrified when I learned the choreography and the lines I was supposed to memorize (not a lot). Each time someone told me to "let loose" and "not think about it" I sunk deeper and deeper into my shy, timid shell. Something miraculous happened when I threw on my seductress outfit and stringy black wig during the last week of rehearsal, however. I was suddenly Mrs. Potiphar--the smooth-talking, hip-shaking temptress. I strutted out onto the stage and did my thing. Through this little part in the school's musical, I learned that it's fun to step out of my shell sometimes and that it doesn't hurt me. It was fun to act like somebody who I never plan to be. This was the year when I was frustrated with my class. I came home and constantly complained about how people in it just weren't fun. I looked at the junior and senior classes in awe, wondering how they were so fun and close knit. Compared to them, my class was full of cliques and immaturity.

Junior year-- the year known to be the hardest academically speaking. And stress speaking. And everything speaking. Just kidding...sort of. I remember registering my junior year. I knew the school like the back of my hand. I knew the ropes of high school, and I was oh-so ready to finally be an upperclassman. I continued on with the dance team which was great. Dance was my safe place and my passion, and being able to show that passion to an audience was the icing on the cake.This was also the year I became a part of my small group--a group of beautiful, open, and encouraging young women who were all after the Lord. In this group I was able to ask the questions I had always wondered about and was afraid to voice. I was able to be completely vulnerable... and in return have my struggles welcomed with open arms. I started taking ACT classes and all that good stuff before I took the actual test for the first time in October. This was the year I actually had a date to homecoming and had my first slow dance. I learned that my ACT score won't ever define me after I took it a few times and still didn't get the score I had been hoping for. I got asked to prom this year in front of the whole school and felt like I was in a movie. Little did I know that every experience I was having was slowly shaping me.

Senior year-- Where do I begin? I promised myself to take EVERYTHING in. The football and basketball games, dance performances, spontaneous get-togethers with friends, no finals, and the like. I didn't want to take anything for granted. I was a captain of the dance team, and with that came more responsibility and pressure than I anticipated. Through the stress, tears, and many hours of choreographing, I learned that dance wasn't my passion anymore. It sounds sad, but the moment I realized what my true passion was, I just knew that it was right. I felt all of my anger and confusion being washed away. My new passion was my small group. Sitting in the room we always met up in, I looked around and felt at home. Tears formed in my eyes while I told the group what I just realized and I felt even more at peace. These girls were my safe place. Relationships like these are what I truly cherish and love and having that and knowing that I'll have that forever with these girls was the most wonderful thing. Right then I decided that it was okay that dance wasn't my number one passion anymore; I still loved to perform and dance, but it wasn't my safe place anymore.

Senior year was my growing year for sure. I went through a time of confusion and comparison. I didn't feel important, which is still something I struggle with to this day. I went through times of frustration with picking out a college and wanting to pick the most perfect college for me...and never seeming to find it. But I also came out of my senior year feeling stronger and more confident than I ever have before. It sounds cliche, but it's so so true. I ended up loving everything about my class-- we made history for placing 4th place in the Student Section Showdown and having the most school spirit so far in the school's history. I was so proud to be in the class of 2015-- no longer were there annoying cliques. People got along, and everyone was just sort of able to float.

My senior year taught me that you sometimes have to go through the valleys to truly understand what pure joy feels like. My senior year taught me who I am and who I want to be. I don't think I ever truly understood what the phrase "emotional rollercoaster" meant until this year. Emotional ups and downs were constant, but I don't regret it at all. I learned what my gifts are... and in turn I learned my weaknesses. All blessings. My senior year was one for the books.

I just tried to sum up my high school experience in a few paragraphs.

It's never going to seem like enough.

A huge piece of my heart will always be in Normal, Illinois.

The place that shaped me, introduced me to lifelong friends, and threw me some major life curveballs.

Thank you, Normal Community, for an incredible and unforgettable four years.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Love, Katie Kortkamp

Class of 2015