Had my education not been derailed by my health, I would have been graduating from high school this month alongside my friends and peers in the Class of 2026. I write "had," of course, because I haven't been well enough to do anything resembling school in almost two school years, and because, as far as the state of Illinois is concerned with their course completion requirements for grade advancement, I am still a sophomore. While I was in the homebound tutoring program through my local high school during my sophomore year, I completed all my courses except Geometry, a requirement to advance to junior year, which we ran out of time to finish before the school year concluded. As a result, when I returned the following school year, I was set to take all junior-level courses, except for mathematics, while still needing to complete the junior-level course to advance to senior year, which requires its own mathematics course to be completed before graduation. Once again, the class I always struggled with the most and resented as a result stirred trouble.
I still remember my middle school graduation fondly, which I find amusing because, due to my middle school health troubles, I could not attend any of the preparations except the full, on-site rehearsal hours before the real event. All I was told was where to stand, sit, and how to shake the hand of the district official who handed out the diplomas, yet, potentially because of my lack of preparedness, I had a wonderful time. It's just hard to contend with the thought of that walk across the stage possibly being my last, at least for a long while. Since the start of this mess, there have been a couple of bumps in the road to remind me of how far I've strayed from the path I was on with everyone else, but this is the first real consequence of what has happened, and a really devastating one.