Easy Does It

Hello, curious minds! If you haven’t yet read the first part of this series, “In the Bubble,” I invite you to start there as we journey through the educational maze together.

As students across the country prepare to head back to class, it feels like the perfect time to share reflections, lessons, and lived experiences from high school — a time marked not only by textbooks and tests, but by transformation. High school is where many of us begin to understand the foundations of responsibility, the complexity of identity, and the power of connection. It’s where we first realize that school is more than just academics — it’s a crucible for growth, resilience, and self-discovery.

A Year of Balance and Becoming

Sophomore year marked a turning point for me. With the uncertainty of freshman year behind me, I stepped into 10th grade with a clearer sense of place — both within the school hallways and within myself. I had a strong group of friends, a better grasp of my surroundings, and the confidence to branch out. This was the year I began to weave together different threads of my identity: student, athlete, leader, and volunteer.

In the fall, I returned to the Cross Country team, embracing the rhythm of early morning summer practices and the camaraderie of teammates who felt more like family. In winter, I explored something new — joining the bowling team — and by spring, I was running Track. Each season brought its own rhythm, its own set of challenges, and a deepened understanding of what it means to commit.

Outside of athletics, I found purpose in Student Government, stepping into school leadership and learning how student voices can shape school culture. I also began to volunteer, which opened my eyes to the world beyond our classrooms and reminded me that leadership doesn’t always come with a title — sometimes, it’s simply about showing up where you’re needed.

Through it all, I discovered something important: I thrived when I was busy. The fuller my schedule, the more focused and fulfilled I felt. It was as if the more I poured into life, the more life gave back.

The High School Tri-lemma

There’s a common dilemma students often joke about: In school, you can only choose two of the following — good grades, social life, or sleep. For me, the balance usually leaned toward academics and social life (aka school involvement with teams, clubs, etc), with sleep often sacrificed in the name of late-night studying after team events or social gatherings.

Was it sustainable? Maybe not. But it taught me an invaluable lesson about balance. It’s not about doing everything perfectly — it’s about discovering what works for you, structuring your time intentionally, and embracing the art of the juggle. My advice to those stepping into high school or any season of life: find your rhythm, create a routine that supports your goals, and adjust as needed.

The Power of Community

One of the highlights of my sophomore year was the deepened friendships — especially within our Cross Country team. That year felt like magic. Our team, already close from the year before, became even tighter. We bonded over pasta dinners the night before meets, bagels shared after races, impromptu movie nights, scavenger hunts, sleepovers, and unforgettable inside jokes.

What we built wasn’t just a team — it was a community. And that, more than anything, is what I hope everyone gets to experience in life. The feeling of belonging, of being part of something bigger than yourself, is one of the most powerful forces we can know.

Pursuing Passion with Purpose

Sophomore year taught me the importance of following your interests — not just academically, but in how you spend your time, choose your commitments, and nurture your energy. When you find something that sparks your curiosity or ignites your passion, lean into it. Use it to fuel your drive, to inspire others, and to remind yourself that purpose often begins with paying attention to what lights you up.

As the old adage goes, “Find a job you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.” But this idea extends far beyond careers — it’s about how we live. Find a life you love, and everything you do becomes more meaningful.

Leadership, From the Inside Out

My work in Student Government wasn’t about popularity or titles. It was about ideas — how we could shape our school’s spirit, organize events, and build a stronger campus culture. From planning homecoming themes to coordinating service projects, I saw how even the smallest actions could make a difference.

If you’re unsure where to begin getting involved, Student Government is a great place to start. It’s more than planning dances — it’s about understanding your school’s pulse, meeting people with different perspectives, and learning how things operate behind the scenes. You might even be inspired to start a new club or initiative of your own.

As Audrey Hepburn once said, “Nothing is impossible — the word itself says ‘I’m possible.’” That quote stayed with me throughout the year, a quiet reminder that our ideas, efforts, and intentions can shape the environments we’re part of.

Finding Angles in the Unexpected – Honors Geometry

Among the many lessons sophomore year offered — from chasing PRs on the track to learning how to roll with the strikes and gutters in bowling — one of the most quietly impactful came not from the field or the lane, but from the classroom. Specifically, Honors Geometry.

At the time, I was a self-proclaimed math-and-science girlie. Algebra? Loved it. Chemistry? Thrived. I had done well in Pre-Algebra during my freshman year, and with encouragement from teachers and a bit of confidence in my back pocket, I enrolled in Honors Geometry.

Let me set the scene: This wasn’t a typical math class where you memorized formulas and solved for x. Geometry, especially at the honors level, demanded a different kind of thinking — spatial reasoning, logic-based proofs, and an ability to see the “why” behind the numbers. It was no longer just about solving; it was about understanding.

What I hadn’t expected was how much life, not just math, would be hidden within those angles, lines, and theorems.

I remember one specific situation that challenged me in more ways than one — not just academically, but emotionally. There was a group project that required not only collaboration, but public presentation. For an introvert who preferred working quietly at her desk, this was my version of standing on stage with a spotlight beaming down. I overthought every detail — whether my part made sense, whether I would stumble over my words, and whether I was “smart enough” to carry my weight in a class of incredibly sharp students.

But here’s what I learned: just because something challenges you doesn’t mean you don’t belong in the room.

Geometry taught me to embrace discomfort as a form of growth. It wasn’t just about calculating the area of a rhombus; it was about learning how to work through confusion, lean into problem-solving, and support others while also advocating for myself.

That class made me feel small at times, like I was floating in a space of people who just “got it” while I was stuck trying to see the big picture. But slowly — through late-night studying, asking questions I once would’ve been too shy to ask, and finding patterns in the chaos — I started to piece it together.

And isn’t that the essence of growth? Of life?

Sometimes, we walk into rooms that make us question our worth — but those are often the very places where we rise.

The Geometry of Grace and Gratitude

As you may already know — or will soon experience yourself — Algebra and Geometry may fall under the same academic umbrella, but they speak two entirely different languages. Algebra is about equations, logic, and solving for the unknown. Geometry? Geometry is about relationships — between angles, lines, shapes, and yes, sometimes, even people.

I quickly realized that Geometry wasn’t just about plugging numbers into formulas. It demanded patience, understanding, and the ability to visualize concepts that didn’t always come naturally. I wasn’t failing because I didn’t understand the material — I was failing because I couldn’t finish the exams. I left them half blank, not due to a lack of knowledge, but a lack of time.

It took one teacher — one observant, compassionate teacher — to change everything.

He noticed the pattern. He saw that the barrier wasn’t intellectual; it was emotional. He suspected testing anxiety and offered a solution: come in early and take the time I needed to finish my tests. That simple shift made all the difference. My grades improved. My confidence returned. And for the first time in weeks, I started to enjoy math again.

Looking back, I realize just how pivotal that moment was. If he hadn’t noticed — hadn’t taken the time to understand the student behind the grade — I may have lost my love for math entirely. And with it, a core piece of what made me feel capable.

In the first part of this series, “In the Bubble,” I spoke about how lucky I was to have been taught by educators who cared deeply. This was yet another example. Teachers like him — like my Freshman English teacher — are the unsung heroes of our journeys. They see our potential when we can’t. They fight for our future when we don’t know how to fight for ourselves. Their legacy isn’t just found in our report cards — it’s written in the confidence, resilience, and dreams they help shape.

The Year That Built the Bridge

All in all, Sophomore year was a building year — a bridge between the uncertainty of Freshman year and the intensity that Junior and Senior years would eventually bring. I stumbled, I struggled, I laughed until I cried, and I grew in ways that were both quiet and profound.

If there’s one message I hope you take away from my journey this year, it’s this:

There is no challenge too big, no setback too permanent, and no dream too far out of reach. Whatever you're facing — whether it’s a blank test paper, a broken heart, or just a bad day — you are more capable than you think. You can do hard things. You can learn. You can adapt. You can rise.

Because you, too, are a work in progress — and progress, no matter how slow, is still progress.

So thank you, Sophomore year — for the lessons, the losses, the laughs, and the light.

Now, onto what comes next.

As a signature of my blog, I like to end each post with a suggestion to “Pass on kindness”. There is no such time as the present to Inspire Those Who Inspire You. Acts of kindness, no matter how big or small, can have a direct, positive impact on someone else. Go out there today and change someone’s life for the better!

***These are my personal opinions and may not be those of my employer.***