I look at their innocent faces, their feigned smiles, their glaring eyes, their lost expressions. And I wonder. I wonder if in four years, they’ll know who they are. I wonder if in four years, these newcomers will have learned the tricks and games of this day-to-day game. I wonder if in four years, their smiles will be natural, automatic, as if to spell out who they are.
I flip through pages of this year’s yearbook. I look at faces and wonder what’s behind their taunting eyes or expressionless faces or the sadness that has sunk deep within them. I recognize some like S’s sister who is neglected of her mother’s love. I recognize a girl who was already a mother as a freshman and is now raising her toddler.
It’s hard to look at these photographs and not pause, not think of each and every one of these individuals who have tales that someone should care to tell. It’s hard to just look and think it’s just another freshman who won’t make it, who’ll drop out in two years, who’ll never get it right.
I wonder if a bright future awaits everyone. I wonder if everyone wants that future…