High School
I started high school when I was 15 years old, almost 16. I was born right after the age deadline for schooling. So, I was the oldest in every grade I was in. After going to a charter school for 3 years of middle school, I was stepping into the “real world” of public schools once again. I was so anxious and nervous, not knowing who I would run into from elementary school or what to expect.
I remember going to sophomore orientation, seeing the huge school, and exploring every inch. My mom went to the same high school I was about to attend, and it didn’t change much since she went there, so it was fun being back at her old stomping grounds, exploring with her.
I signed up for all of the basic classes and a few electives. Choir was the elective I was most excited about! Knowing that my choir class was going to be huge, with so many different voices, excited me.
The first day of school, I ran into my friends Kim and Brooke from middle school, and Kaelyn and Faith from elementary school! I was so happy that I knew at least a few people. I also saw a few other kids from elementary school, too, since my high school was in the boundaries of my elementary school, and their public middle school. It was definitely weird seeing them all again and sort of being remembered. I quickly realized I would be starting all over again, with making new friends and trying to fit in.
My high school had a basketball team, so of course I had to try out! I went to every open gym that was held, before and after school. I was definitely the odd duck out; every girl who was at open gym knew each other from middle school. I didn’t know a single soul. Some girls would miss shots, couldn’t dribble, and didn’t know how to pass correctly. Seeing what my competition was like made me very hopeful to make the team! Tryouts were held shortly after open gym ended. When the time came for the team to be announced, the list didn’t have my name on it. I was very sad and upset, considering all the time and hard work I put into proving myself to the coaches. I later found out that the high school basketball program was very political; the girls who made the team were already being scouted out by the high school coaches when they played middle school ball. It really disappointed me that I missed an opportunity to play basketball at a public middle school. I know if I did have that opportunity, I more than likely would’ve made the team.
After high school basketball was out of the picture, I turned my focus to choir. When you’re a sophomore, you don’t have to audition to be in the ladies’ choir. Which means any girl can join, whether you’re a good singer or not. A cappella choir was not available for sophomores to sign up for. My choir teacher was Miss. Gates had a stunning voice and was an amazing teacher. I chose to sit in the Alto 1 section, which meant I got to sing harmonies a bit lower than the other girls. My class was filled with sophomore and junior girls. It was hard because some of the girls really could not sing or carry a tune. I couldn’t wait to advance to a cappella choir next year!
My junior year, I was in a cappella choir, which meant I had to audition for Miss. Gates. I made it into the choir, and was beyond excited! The class was mixed with junior and senior students. I was alto 1 once again, and met so many new friends! We had a choir concert each year. Having my friends and family come to support me always meant the world.
When I became a senior, I had the option to audition for madrigals, which is a smaller choir made of senior students, but you had to be the best of the best. The audition would be in front of the new choir teacher, Mr. North, and the current madrigals. Unfortunately, I wasn’t picked to be a part of the madrigals, which made me very sad. When my mom was in high school, she was a madrigal, and I just wanted to follow in her footsteps.
However, I decided to apply for the choir council in my senior year. There were interviews held after school, and it seemed like every senior in the entire choir program signed up. I nailed my interview with my Mr. North, and had all my fingers, toes, and body parts crossed that this would work out in my favor. Soon enough, the list was posted. Guess whose name was on that list?! MINE. Finally, I was accepted into something I really wanted to be a part of. There were six seniors selected for the choir council; every member except for me was a madrigal. That made me feel superior! If you can’t have both, be grateful you have one!
The purpose of the choir council was to plan activities, help the students rehearse, be leaders, make announcements, help the teacher with tasks, etc. There were the normal positions like President, Vice President, Secretary, Treasurer, and Public Relations. I honestly think my position was made up.. I was the Historian. I didn’t really know my role or what I was supposed to take charge of. So, I just sat in on the meetings, helped with the students, took pictures, and tried to be a positive light for everyone around me. The theme for our council was The Avengers. We all had letterman jackets, well, more like sweater jackets that had our Avenger names printed on the back. I was the shortest and most petite person, so the council thought they were funny and named me “Hulk”. Choir was definitely the class where I felt like I could be me, no matter what.
Both my junior and senior years, our choir department, along with the theatre and dance company departments, took a trip to California. My dad volunteered to be a chaperone on my senior year choir tour. We all loaded onto huge stagecoach busses and made our way from Utah to California. I think it took two days. We were able to attend a few workshops, go to Sea World, visit the beach, and explore San Diego. All was fun and games until the trip home. Everyone was so tired, and the seats barely reclined. I fell asleep in the aisle while everyone else was either asleep in their seats or in the aisle as well. I met a boy named Laramy online who lived in St. George, Utah. We had been talking for a few months and finally had the opportunity to meet in person on our bus ride home. My dad and I met him and his parents at IHOP. I remember traveling down to see him a few more times after that, but our relationship ended after high school. Overall, a choir tour will always be a trip to remember.
You can’t talk about high school and forget school dances. I got asked to every school dance there was, and I also asked boys to dances if it was our choice. My favorite dance was the Prom of my senior year. One of my best guy friends, Jason, asked me that year. We always had a blast together! Our group was huge!! We went to Olive Garden for dinner before the dance, and then partied our little booties off! I remember loving my pink dress, which my mom and I picked out together from a dress rental shop! Prom 2k15 was definitely a night to remember!
My first kiss happened when I was a sophomore. My first class of the day was Spanish 1, which I absolutely hated with my whole being. It was so challenging for me, and always made my head hurt, but I put my best foot forward and somehow always got an A or B. Anyways, there was a cute senior boy in my class…not sure why he was in Spanish 1 filled with sophomores, but whatever. We had talked a few times in class and then exchanged numbers. We never got to hang out outside of school; we just saw each other in passing or in Spanish. One morning, before class, we had texted and decided to hang out before school started. I got to school early, and we just walked around talking for about 30 minutes. The first bell rang to go to Spanish, so we walked to class together. When we got to the door, he pulled me into a corner and slapped one on me. I had no idea how to kiss, or what was even going on…haha! He had the skinniest lips I had ever seen, and like 5 hairs on his upper lip. Safe to say.. it wasn’t the best first kiss, but hey, it was with a senior! That definitely boosted my confidence!
Did I have a boyfriend in high school? Yes, but only one up until senior year when I met Laramy. His name was Jackson, and he was a “bad boy”. He always wore this leather jacket literally every day at school. We only saw each other outside of school a handful of times. But we did meet up in the hallways at school after almost every period, held hands in the hallway, and had lunch together. Our relationship lasted half of our junior year. He took me to two dances, but wasn’t much of a dance guy. Most of that is really blurry to me, which bothers me because I wish I could say more about how it was. He was a good guy and treated me with respect.
I took driver’s education in my sophomore year. You can only imagine my excitement to be able to drive myself to school and not take the bus. We did normal book work and watched videos for the entire year. At this point, I already had my driver’s permit, which I got in April of 2012, right before high school started. It was cool being one of the oldest people in my grade, for that reason. I started driving my parents’ car with them in it whenever I had the chance. I finally felt like an adult, even though I still had a few more years before that would even be a reality. Driving was scary at first, but my parents were the best teachers.
When the 3rd quarter came around, that meant after school we could drive to the driving range, which was located in the back parking lot of the school. We would sign up for specific days and drive after school. The cars were older but not that old, which was nice. Our teacher would sit in this little booth that looked over the entire course, and would talk to us through the radio. There were so many different obstacles that we would have to do over and over again, including parallel parking, which I sucked at.
At the very end of my sophomore year, I had to pass off every section of the course to my teacher, and then had to get a certain number of hours clocked driving on the actual road with a random teacher from our school. After I completed my hours on the road, I got a final score. It had to be above 90 percent out of 100 to get the okay for me to take the official driver’s license test. I got docked one point because I forgot to check my blind spot one time. On my 16th birthday, I drove my mom to the DMV to get my license!! I passed on the first try this time. I was finally a free woman on the road!! I bought my first car, which was a 1997 Honda Accord that I found on Facebook. It was old, but she ran like a charm! From there on out, I drove myself to school every day starting my junior year. During my senior year, my mom took me to a car dealership while my dad was out of town. I really wanted a red Volkswagen Beetle, so with the help of my mom, who co-signed, and my dad, who foolishly said yes, I got my dream car! I felt so cool driving my new classy car to school every day. Eventually, I couldn’t pay the $300 payment to my mom every month, so she took it away.. I was really sad, but realized that it was a dumb, last-minute decision anyway.
High school taught me a lot about accountability, responsibility, and self-discovery. I never actually fit in. My high school was the “preppy” always good at everything school, in the whole state of Utah. Football was the main sport, next to baseball. Every girl had a crush or boyfriend who played either of those sports. I loved going to football games; the school spirit was always insane. There were so many cliques all around me, the jocks, cheerleaders, drill team, nerds, theatre junkies, marching band, etc. I was a part of the choir group, but didn’t flaunt it or just hang out with them. I made a few friends who pretty much all stood beside me throughout my 3 years..Kim, Makayla, Katelyn, Kaelyn, Blaikly, Bailie, Alyssa, Brooke, Faith, and a few others I can’t remember off the top of my head. Each one of them was a part of a clique/group, but they were always nice and said hi to me in passing or class. I hung out outside of school with a few of them as well. Kim and Makayla quickly became my best friends. I spent a lot of time with them, we parked our cars by each other every day, and had each other no matter what.
I got my first job when I was 16 years old. I applied at many different places, but finally landed a position at Arctic Circle. My best friend at the time, Kim, applied with me and started the same day I did. It was so difficult at first learning the ancient register, wearing a headset, working drive-thru, filling orders, making shakes, and learning closing duties.
My coworkers were always a lot of fun; they made work more enjoyable. I would work almost every day after school. My family loved Arctic Circle and would come in all the time. My friend Makayla ended up applying there, too. I ended up working with my two best friends! After I got used to everything, I was able to choose what I wanted to do, and yes, I chose the shake station. I got really fast and really good at making shakes. To this day, if I could do any job again, that would be it! I had to quit after working there for almost a year because the girls and I were sexually assaulted by the assistant manager. It wasn’t that severe, but we just didn’t feel safe.
My next job after that was I applied at a daycare center where my friend Jessica was working. I interviewed with the owner and got the job! Working with little kids seemed like the biggest challenge, but it ended up being a ton of fun! The only downside was that I got sick all the time from the snotty, gross little kids who were sent to daycare even when they were sick. I worked with 5-month-old babies, all the way up to elementary school-age kids. I enjoyed teaching them, feeding them, and playing with them. The best part of the job was nap time! That was my time to chill or do homework. Over the course of a few years, I would find a different job, but would somehow always end up back at the daycare. I met my friend May while working there, the second time. She was always so good with the kids and quickly became one of my best friends.
In between working at the daycare, I got a job at Pop Shop! Two best friend moms decided to open up a small building with a drive-thru and walk-up window that served drinks, cookies, pizza, breadsticks, and snow cones. I was one of the first people hired, and I worked at the grand opening! It was a lot of fun, filling orders, icing sugar cookies, making snow cones, and taking orders. My friends and family visited me often, plus I made some new friends along the way.
My parents threw me the best 16th birthday party I could’ve asked for. We used my Bishop’s backyard, where there was a pool, trampoline, and tons of grass. My mom had water bottles, cookies, napkins, and plates customized with my name on them. My dad was the DJ and played the best music ever!
All of my friends from middle school, high school, and the ward showed up, along with my family. We played games, went swimming in the pool, opened presents, and ate some cake. I felt so special and loved by everyone who attended. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for making that day perfect and a birthday I will always remember.
When my senior year began, things at home were not okay. My parents were yelling, arguing, and pretty much ignoring each other. (If I don’t get all these facts correct, Mom and Dad.. I’m sorry. But this is from my point of view of what was happening.) The problems at home started around the time I was a sophomore, so I had already been going through a lot by the time I was a senior.
I drove myself and my brother Parker to school every morning. Once we got to school, we went to class and went about the day normally. I put my best foot forward in every class, did my homework, and really focused on my school work. To me, school was the only constant thing in my life at the moment, and that was the only thing I could control. I didn’t know and still don’t know the extent of my parents’ marital issues; it’s none of my business. But I did hear and see a lot of things, and that’s what I’ll explain now.
My mom had a hysterectomy back in 2010. After the surgery, she started to gain a lot of weight because of the hormonal imbalance. Her mental health started to go down the drain, plus she was diagnosed with epilepsy when my parents first got married. So, fast forward to my senior year in high school, 2014, her mental health was not good at all. I remember her always acting happy and fine whenever she would see my brothers and me. But, behind closed doors, she was just not well.
This is all such a blur to me because it was so traumatic. I’m trying to remember the best I can, so I apologize. During my whole high school career, here are a few things I remember happening at home.
One night, my brothers and I were in bed. I was having a hard time going to sleep, so I was playing on my phone, and out of nowhere, I heard banging and yelling in my parents’ room, which was right below my brother Parker’s room. My room was next to our bathroom, which was between mine and Parker’s rooms. Ashby’s room was right next to my room.
I could hear everything from my air vent in my floor. I went to the air vent, put my ear next to it, and heard my mom screaming at my dad, and my dad was screaming back. Tears started to stream down my face, onto the air vent. I couldn’t really make out the words they were yelling. It sounded like he was trying to calm her down. Next thing I know, there was a big bang on the wall.. sounded like something was thrown and shattered from the impact. The yelling and arguing went on for a good hour. I was in tears and shaking, rocking back and forth on my bed, not knowing what to do.
I picked up my cellphone and called my mom’s mom. She lived maybe 10 minutes away, and always knew how to get through to my mom, so I knew she could probably help. My grandma showed up about 15 minutes later and went into my parents’ bedroom. For some reason, I felt like I needed to see what was going on and make sure everyone was okay, since my grandma was there.
I went to the top of the stairs right outside my bedroom to see if I could see anything. Shortly after, my parents and grandma walked out into the family room. My mom looked like she had been crying for days on end, my dad looked absolutely exhausted, and my grandma looked very concerned. They all looked at me, my dad told me everything was going to be okay, and to go back to bed. I found out my mom had thrown her cellphone at the wall and had broken it. That’s the big band I heard earlier. My dad walked my mom out the garage door. I could hear my mom yelling and saying “no! no! no!”. My dad had to tie my mom down in the passenger seat of my grandma’s Jeep so she wouldn’t continue to hurt herself, my dad, or my grandma. Their next stop was my grandparents’ cabin, 3 hours away.
My dad told us the next morning that Mom would be with Grandma and Grandpa for about a week; she just needed a little break. My brothers didn’t hear anything that night, I don’t think..thank goodness. Butwith I heard it all and knew that she was at the cabin because my dad just couldn’t handle it anymore, and my mom needed some serious TLC. As far as I know, my mom helped my grandpa in his garage at the cabin by making furniture and other things out of wood. She has always loved to do that kind of stuff with her dad. I want to thank my grandma and grandpa for taking care of her that week.
My mom was later diagnosed with bipolar disorder with depression. That was heartbreaking for me to learn. When I was little, she was always upbeat, happy, and was the most loving, hardworking mom I knew. She did a 360 emotionally in my teenage years. Her being controlled by this mental illness took a toll on my family as a whole. We would have to constantly walk on eggshells, making sure we didn’t trigger my mom to be upset. I believe she was on medication at this point. My dad would leave the house for hours at a time; to me, it seemed as if he just couldn’t handle the toxic atmosphere. It got so bad that he started sleeping in our guest room in the basement. I think that’s when they decided to separate.
My mom would have seizures almost daily. I was the lucky one who was always with her when the seizure would start. I quickly learned how to comfort her when they were going on. She would let me know that she felt it coming, and I would hold her close to my chest and start to rub her head. I told her everything was going to be okay, as she was swallowing very hard, shaking, and slurring her words. After the seizure was over, she would be very tired, and I would have to take her to the couch or bed so that she could sleep it off. Every time she had a seizure, I felt so bad for her, but I wanted to help in any way I could.
One day, I was up in my room, lying on my bed, looking at Facebook. All of a sudden, I heard a bottle of pills drop in the kitchen downstairs. I thought that was weird, but didn’t really pay that much attention to it. About 5 minutes later, my mom came to my room with a look of defeat on her face, tears in her eyes, and out of breath. She told me she loved me very much and hugged me very tightly. I was so confused as to what was happening. I told her I loved her, too.
My dad shortly followed and asked her to come downstairs with him; he told me he would be right back. When my dad got back to my room, he told me that my brothers and I would be going with my Aunt Jeana to stay the night at her house. I quickly packed my things, still not knowing what was going on, and went downstairs. My dad was on the phone with 911, telling them to hurry with an ambulance, and that my mom had taken a bunch of Ibuprofen. Once I heard that, I started crying. I realized my mom attempted suicide in our own kitchen. My brothers met me downstairs, and I held them really tight, covering their ears in hopes that they weren’t hearing anything that was being said. My Aunt Jeana arrived, and we got in the car. My dad told us he would see us later that night or in the morning. During the car ride to my aunt’s with tears in my eyes, all I could think about was my mom and if she was going to be okay.
This. This is very, very, very hard for me to write about. Feeling those awful feelings I felt 7 years ago, and telling my side of the story from what I saw, is heartbreaking and sad.
My Aunt Jeana was a rockstar. She couldn’t say much about what was going on, so she distracted us with movies, food, and playing with our cousins. The next day, I believe, my dad made his way over to our Aunt’s house. He talked to me and told me that my mom was in a mental hospital in Salt Lake City. She was being taken care of, and I had nothing to worry about. I cried for hours, knowing what I knew, saw, and heard, I did have something to worry about… my mom’s health.
A few days later, my dad and I took a trip to see my mom at the hospital, we took her some church magazines, and her favorite snacks. They wouldn’t let us take in the snacks; that’s how locked up my mom was. When we walked in, she was sitting at a large table with other patients, doing a puzzle. She was laughing, smiling, and really enjoying herself. When she saw us, she hugged my dad and me so tight and told us she loved us. My dad and I sat with her in her room and read the church magazine with her. She seemed like she was doing really well. She was happier here, in this hospital, with people who shared her mental illness or were struggling with other illnesses. It was really strange to see her thriving in a Fort Knox kind of place. After the visit, I was at peace with where she was at, and so was my dad.
She eventually got out and came home. The doctor prescribed her some bipolar and depression medication. I had high hopes for her and our family. My high hopes were eventually let down once again, and family life continued to change. I moved out of my family's house at the end of 2014 with my dad to a small apartment 1 mile away. My parents got divorced in early 2015, my dad came out as gay, my mom got remarried, and a lot of changes kept happening, but I’m going to have to save all of that for another chapter.
Towards the end of high school, I lost all of my friends. The people I called my best friends left me. I don’t remember the reason why, I don’t think there was a valid reason, actually. I guess I was just really focused on my school work, and not on my friendships or drama. I would go to school very upset, sad, and confused because of what was going on at home. I had the worst 4th quarter of high school, my senior year. I lost everyone; my family was crumbling to the ground. But I tried to keep my head up as much as I could, and just get to graduation day.
All in all, high school had its ups and downs. I learned a lot, made new friends, fought with my emotions, but truly enjoyed myself. I ended up graduating from high school in 2015 with a 4.0 GPA. I also graduated from the seminary with my church friends. I was very proud of myself. With everything going on in my home life, I managed to get good grades and graduate! My choir sang at graduation, and my family and boyfriend, Laramy, showed up to support. I didn’t have any friends to celebrate with once we threw our caps up into the air. All I got were dirty looks, and I was ignored. The next chapter of my life was about to begin, with uncertainty looking me straight in the eyes.. I remember thinking to myself, “bring it on”. Thank you, Bingham High, and faculty. We’ll always remember the blue and the white.
