When I say that I attended a boarding school, most questions are something along the lines of "Did your parents hate you?" And no, it was entirely my decision to attend and move out of the house at 15 years old. It was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever made (yes, even more difficult than choosing a college), but also the most rewarding. Except, I’m not sure how to explain it to you.

So when your questions turn to “What was it like?” I’m not sure what to say. You see, most people picture ivy covered walls and preppy uniforms. I’m sure those types of schools exist, but that’s definitely not the experience I had.

My boarding school is known as the Illinois Mathematics and Science Academy (IMSA). The three-year program covers a student’s sophomore through senior years in high school. The application process is fairly rigorous, with required essays and SAT scores. IMSA has some wonderful statistics on the types of students they generally admit, but the diversity – the fact that nobody fits into any singular box – is one of the best things about the community.

Just over four years ago, I walked across campus for the first time (and soon learned that if I wanted to leave again, I’d need to sign out). As a new sophomore, I was introduced to my hall, one of seven on campus (cleverly numbered 1501 through 1507), and my wing, one of four in my hall (lettered A-D). My wing (24 girls of all ages and backgrounds) quickly became my family and home away from home. My seniors and juniors took me under their wings, and my roommate became my partner in crime. We never locked our doors, which led to friendships that formed late into the night when schoolwork was done but sleep wouldn’t come.

Unfortunately, we did still go to school -- but similar to a college schedule, I often had three hour breaks in my day. And no school on Wednesdays! Wednesdays were our Inquiry Days, where upperclassmen pursued research projects at nearby colleges and labs. Those who didn’t do research spent time catching up on homework, volunteering or hanging out with friends.

After being a sophomore, my years quickly flew by. Junior year was the year of hard classes, research projects, and college prep. I learned how important it was to know that internet shuts off at 1:03 a.m., not just 1:00, because when junior year hit, it hit hard. My sophomores kept me sane, pulling pranks that forced me out of my constantly stressed out state. All of this made senior year, the year of college applications, seem easy by comparison.

I believe it's impossible to quantify my experience in just a few words. There's no perfect beginning to my story, and I don't think there's an ending yet (I just visited last week). At the end of this week, the class below me (my original sophomores) will graduate, and the amount of people I know at IMSA will drastically decrease. And the year after that, the last sophomores I know will go off to college. Not even three years after I graduated, entirely new students will roam the halls, creating their own stories.

I can't explain what IMSA was to me, because in order to do so, I'd need a list of about 500 names. And with each of those names, I'd need to map thousands of memories (with plenty remaining hidden). I could show you the avalanche of assignments I completed, spanning math, science and interdisciplinary classes. There'd be papers in English and History, programs for Residential Life and proposals for Student Council. I'd need the play scripts that I was a part of, whether behind the scenes or on stage. Oh, and the coding projects that introduced me to my passion – the tic tac toe game and the GPS app I created. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry. I’m sorry that I will never be able to fully explain my boarding school to you, but if you asked me, I would love to try.