Legacy and How I Realized How Much I Want to Leave One

     I was looking at my Twitter feed the other day and I saw a familiar name. Michael Cantu. I couldn't remember where I'd heard it but it gnawed at me until I finally asked a friend about it.
"Michael Cantu, as in football, Michael Cantu?" my friend clarified.
At the word "football", it hit me like a brick. He was in 8th grade when I was in 6th. Michael dominated on the football field and basketball court. Gabby had an über-dorky crush on him and we all teased her because he probably didn't even know her name. Looking back, I don't blame him. Most of our 6th graders are just flat out annoying.
I went to look at his Twitter feed and what I saw didn't surprise me. It looked something like this:

• baseball
• baseball
• baseball
• girlfriend
• baseball

     Of course he still was all about sports.
     So I got to thinking. I began to realize the legacy he left behind at Baker. All the guys wanted to be just like Michael. He was an upper classman, of course they looked up to him.
Then it hit me, CRAP! I'm now one of the upper classmen! When 6th graders look at me, what do they see? I only know a couple of them and just barely. But that's probably what Michael said...
     The more I thought about it, the more I thought about other upper classmen. I thought about who I would love to be remembered like and my mind immediately went to Mel Barrera. She is a year older than me but every time I would see her around school I would think to myself "She's a great actress. I want to be like her." I started thinking more and more and soon I realized how all of these people who didn't even know most of us could make an imprint on the lower grades.
     What kind of legacy will I leave behind?

Being a Future Texan and How High School Snuck Up On Me

W. B. Ray High School

     Ever since the first day of school this year, my teachers have been telling us "You'd better start getting ready for high school. They aren't going to take the crap we put up with!". Of course that's what I heard going into middle school too. It doesn't scare me. Really it doesn't even apply to me, I'm not the kind of kid that gives crap to teachers. I make straight A's, have plenty of friends, and I even do extracurricular activities (okay, just theatre).
     So I really had no fear of high school. I figured I would follow the gifted and talented program that I've been in for eight years now and just go to the gifted and talented high school, Ray High School. This sounded like a great plan. Most of my friends we going to go there, Ray has a great theatre company, and I would continue with the IB (International Baccalaureate) program. I would live happily ever after. Until my mother started doing her research. What she found was Collegiate High School (CHS). This school is located at my local community college and at the end of my Senior year I would be getting a high school diploma and an associates degree.
     So I applied after much "encouragement" from my mother and brainwashed father. I actually tried too. Don't think I bombed that application just because I didn't want to go. I actually did my best because I can't shoot down an opportunity like that so easily. Of course I wasn't as excited as my mother, who had so much faith in what I submitted, figured that I would automatically get acceptance. Because I wasn't instantly ecstatic she figured that I didn't want to go to CHS. Like I said before, I would've liked to go to Ray but if I had gotten acceptance, I would've gone to CHS without (much) complaint.
     "High school is about your education, not your friends. I know your friends are going to Ray but you could do so well at CHS!" she said daily. After months of hearing the same lecture from my parents over and over again, I exploded. My mother and I were in the car on our way to rehearsal one night. I explained to her that I have friends going to Ray. I have friends going to and already at CHS. If I were following my friends I would have to go to Carroll, King, Moody, A.C. Jones, Ray and CHS.
     That kept her quiet for a few weeks. This past Friday was the deadline for us to get our letter from CHS. Quentin and Jonathan were friends of mine that applied and they both got letters saying that they were wanted for interviews. I got nothing. Days passed and still nothing. Mom became uneasy and I became confused. Tuesday was a meeting at Ray for future incoming freshmen and as my mother and I were about to leave I got a weird urge to check the mail. It was fate.
     In my hands with bills, junk letters and free promo crap was my CHS letter. I let my mom open it, I so didn't need to see what it said. But as she read it, her face fell. I took the letter from her and read it for myself. It turns out that I'm "not eligible" for CHS, whatever that means. Of course my mother was pissed, my dad was cool with it because I still had the great IB program at Ray and me? Well I was cool with going to Ray too.
     So that night at the Ray meeting I couldn't help looking around that huge campus and thinking "Woah, I'm going to come here for the next four years of my life?"