I attended a private Catholic school for the first eleven years of my education — two years of preschool, one of kindergarten, and eight years for elementary and junior high. For those of you who aren’t so familiar, lots of kids at Catholic grade schools go on to attend Catholic high schools, at least in my hometown.
But while my classmates toured, shadowed, and tested for one of six Catholic high schools in our area, I was waiting to hear back on an application of a different kind. And during spring break of my eighth grade year, I received my acceptance letter to join the first graduating class of Toledo Early College High School.
In the past, I’ve written about some of my experiences — and some of the people — at my high school. Like many others, I consider my high school years to be a singularly formative experience — although I’d never call them the best years of my life.
But best or not, high school was important. It’s where I figured out who I am and who I wanted to become. Where I found the things that would influence me, and where I discovered the people who would matter to me. And high school shaped me: I was and will always be part of the first graduating class from my high school, and that carries its own weight in my heart.
In this month’s issue, we explore one of the most familiar story settings of our time: the school story. High school, middle school, magic school, military school. But whatever the level (or location) of study, we’re certain that it’s had its influence on its students.
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Feliza Casano is finally, FINALLY done with her own school days, and now she edits and writes for all sections of the site. In her approximate 2.3 hours of free time each month, she loves watching anime, reading science fiction, and working on her novels-in-progress. Keep up with her antics at felizacasano.com and follow her on Twitter @FelizaCasano.
