Coppell Observer is a humorous column about life as a teenager. Please be warned that any and all sass is due to the writers’ similar situation as adolescents (even though we feel so much older). You, the reader, should not take any of these words to heart. Seriously. If this article makes you laugh, leave a comment. 

Dear junior year,

Well, well, well.

It’s about time we’ve had a talk. A sit down chat if you will, though it’ll be complicated for you to sit (this is one of the many roasts I will say to you). 

Do you remember the beginning of the pandemic? How everyone was terrified but the collective experience unified us in a way? Well, this year was the same, minus the wholesome camaraderie.

Because you see, coming back to school was this amazing concept. As the months went by, you were idolized and looked forward to by every high school student in America. I mean, we were hyping you up as if you were going to be where we recreated our own High School Musical.

But, as we (the student body, the victims, the innocent, whatever you want to call it) know now, letting our expectations soar too close to the sun is bound to end in disappointment. If only we learned from Icarus, but alas, we were too naive. 

Coming into the school building was supposed to be this gigantic deal, complete with applause and paparazzi. Instead, we were all part of the fast-paced current of bodies mashed together. Soon, we were faceless people in a crowd of sweaty teenagers, COVID-19 long forgotten.

You’re famously known to be stressful with your exams and classes. But no one told me that you’d give me this much struggle in ALL parts of my life. How could you let me walk right into a trash can while looking for someone in a crowd – don’t even try to put the blame on me.

Throughout this year, I’ve lost friends, school supplies, gifts and motivation to your hands. You’re so greedy, you know that? You’ve taken up so much of my time and energy. The only time I’m not working with you or activities relating to you is when I’m sleeping. And even then, you plague me with school related nightmares.

This was the year I was supposed to have fun. I have two off periods, ones that I should’ve been able to take to hang out with my friends. Instead, your demanding self made me work on…well, work. This act completely disregards my social life (or lack thereof it, because of you).

You take away my chances to be social as well as my hopes and dreams for this perfect year, however flawed they might have been. 

What do you have to say for yourself?

You’ve subjected us to hours upon hours of mind-numbingly boring classes where we don’t even do anything. I mean, let’s face it: none of us want to sit in class on a Tuesday morning to learn about prose. The worst part? We didn’t even have to do this schtick for a good two years. For those blissful months, we were able to do whatever we wanted and work at our own leisure. I mean, I guess it sucked that there was a whole new wave of terror on our society, but at least we got to sleep in. Now, with you in the picture, we still have to go to school even though COVID is still a thing.

I really thought you were going to be different from the other years. Those years were stressful but had some redeeming qualities. You, though, you were and are a menace. The only good parts of my year weren’t even from you. If I could, I would shake my finger at you. Well, other things too, but you get the gist.

I hope this letter gives you a wake up call. Make my junior year end on a good note. If not, then I’ll be writing a complaint to whoever is the head of years (or something like that). 

You’ve been warned.

(NOT) sincerely,

Maya P.

(p.s. I wrote a poem for you:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

You now know from what I said:

I hate you!)

( p.p.s. Hate is a strong word. I strongly dislike you!!)