When brainstorming for this column, I realized I haven’t properly introduced myself to you, my readers. For those who are interested, here is a small snippet of my life story.

I am currently a senior at Juneau-Douglas High School. I completely believe that in a fight, a bear would defeat a falcon (except during hibernation time). Also, no, I am not being offered any extra credit in any of my classes for saying that.

Sadly, like many other high school seniors, I have been plagued by what is called “senioritis”, a psychosomatic disease that heightens your social capacity and willingness to leave high school while simultaneously diminishing your ability to do school work. This is unfortunate because I have plenty of college applications that I must complete before January. Between classes, the Juneau Empire and colleges, I find myself writing at every moment of the day.

I have always found writing to be the easiest form of communication. If you have the resources and the right education, it is not difficult to scrawl down your innermost thoughts on a piece of paper. Plus, you have the advantage of being able to erase anything you might regret saying in the future. Yet, I also find writing the least effective mode of communication — reading is tiresome, little emotion can be conveyed through writing, there is too much room for interpretation, and frankly, it’s boring. I greatly prefer films and visuals, and I hope to learn more about videography once I finally escape the social confines of public school.

Speaking of when I leave Juneau, I plan to take what is known as a “gap year” before entering college to do what some call “real-world learning.” In high school, I’ve noticed my life teeter between the work I do for fun and the work I do for a grade. I learn through both methods, but I also know that I have not learned some valuable life skills with the latter. When you’re sitting in a classroom for 6-7 hours a day, you receive an extraordinarily different education than when you’re out interacting with strangers to work on something you are passionate about. During this year, I plan to travel to another country, allowing me to focus on interacting with people and capture the type of education I feel I have been missing from my time in public school. This year will also allow me to explore the many interests I have and discover what I truly want to do with my life, so once college calls out to me, I will be prepared to pursue the things I love.

On the subject of college, I plan to attend an institution that prioritizes innovative learning and allows students to lead their own education. In my dream college, I learn through in-depth discussions with student and teacher alike and have plenty of opportunities to intern as a part of my classes. I won’t list the colleges I am applying to here, but I do plan on pursuing social entrepreneurship, politics and global studies. As an avid perfectionist, my critical eye naturally scopes out problems and my brain automatically works on developing solutions. I am also a very selfish person — the problems I work to solve are always ones that have personally affected me, such as depression, racism and denial of opportunities. Studying social entrepreneurship would teach me to be a better problem solver, and more importantly, get my solutions working in the real world.

I do have many other interests, though. As soon as it is financially feasible, I plan to learn how to fly a helicopter. My first licensed flight will be in Alaska, so that I can say I am one of few pilots who is afraid of heights. I geek hard over “Hamilton: The Musical” without ever having watched the whole thing, and I am secretly interested in learning about light design in theatre. I have also always wanted to choreograph a musical, even though I am a terrible dancer myself. Someday, I’d like to coach an Academic Decathlon team in the least competitive high school in the country to inspire every member to participate for their love of learning, just as I have learned to do with my own participation in the competition. There are plenty of things I plan to do with my life and I do not plan to limit myself to what I list on paper.

Now, I mentioned earlier that I am selfish. Well, this column is actually a byproduct of my selfish needs. I have to admit: college applications are bogging me down. Don’t get me wrong, I feel great about my life — I know who I am, what I love and that my importance is valid. Yet, I also know that I am not the student many people expect or want me to be. When you’re forced to write down all of your achievements for someone else, you cannot help but think they are scoffing at you — it can feel dehumanizing. I flashback to the many times I have been judged (or judged myself) my worth by what classes I am taking, what grades I received or what awards I have won.

I recall a time over the summer, when I was working in a retail shop, a tourist had struck up a conversation about my future. For a conversation about my future, it focused quite a bit on my past — How many foreign language classes have I taken? What sports did I play? Did I have an internship somewhere? How often do I volunteer in the community? Do I have a perfect grade point average? After answering these questions and failing to impress this random tourist, I could not help but think: “Oh god, what will college admissions officers say?”

I have read one too many articles on what colleges want from their applicants. I am not the student with perfect grades given by the most challenging classes in school, the student who also volunteers regularly, plays one or multiple sports, is an accomplished musician or artist and has been awarded several times for existing. However, I do know that I deserve to occupy an equal amount of space as that student, because I am a person who knows where she is at and is working to develop her own personhood.

I have to apologize. I took the liberty of spilling out these random details of my life to you, reader, because I know that my college admissions officers will only get to see the boring part of myself, the part that can be measured and pitted against other trapped teenage competitors. I cannot express everything about myself to an admissions officer, nor to you (although I have significantly more room to express myself here than in an application). I am alright with that, though. I hope you are, too.

• Tasha Elizarde is a high school senior living in Juneau. Her column comes out the third Sunday of every month. She also writes “This Day in Juneau History” for the Juneau Empire.

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