It's Never too Late to Turn Five

Courtney Ceccarini

Q News

When you’re five you don’t really think about it. You walk right into your vibrant kindergarten classroom with your hot pink Barbie backpack, turn to the person next to you and complement the scribbles they made with their freshly sharpened macaroni and cheese crayola crayon. 

If you don’t know how to count to 100, odds are, you don’t know the pressures of social anxiety and the internal fears that come with striking up a conversation. At five, all it takes is for your swing to line up with someone else's at recess for you to become instant best friends.  

On September 11, 2017, I wished I was five again.

From kindergarten up until the middle of summer going into my sophomore year I was a student in the Sachem School District.

It was the district my brother graduated from and the schools that filled its halls with students I knew almost every name of. 

Unfortunately, sometime in middle school, I became tired of the typical middle school fights and clicks that form when a group of kids, going through puberty create.  

By the time freshman year came around, I spent countless days crying to my parents that I couldn’t stay at this school.

Research from the National Center for Education Statistics states that 48% of girls were involved in bullying throughout high school.

So in the grand scheme of things, I guess I wasn’t as “different” as I thought I was, but still, my unavoidable, almost daily tears gave my parents no option but to look for other schools for me.

Private school was not something unfamiliar to my parents. They offered my brother the opportunity to attend a catholic school, and my dad graduated from one, along with all of his siblings.

A month before I was set to continue my education from Sachem as a sophomore, the conversation I had been waiting for finally happened. 

“So I got a phone call today,” my dad said. 

Basically, he knew a teacher on the board at St. Anthony’s High School. By filling out an application and taking a tour of the three story school, I could be one of the 2,000 students wearing a uniform and taking theology classes come the fall.

When Sept 11. rolled around I remember being more nervous than excited. I woke up at 5 a.m. about

2 hours before the bus would come to pick me up.

I got on the bus and went to school. It was the first day of going to a school where the bus ride was not down the road. For this new school, I had to get on a bus that was an hour long ride.

Walking into school, I felt my heart pound and like I was being looked at as "the new kid." I had never been the new kid before. 

By the time fifth period came, I had said a total of eight words. I got my lunch and stared at the cafeteria full of kids I didn't know. I figured everyone already knew each other and I would be an outsider for the rest of my high school career. 

As I sat down at an empty table like in the movies, I could only think of the words my mom would tell me every time I plead I wanted to come here. 

"The grass isn't always greener on the other side."

I sat thinking maybe she was right and regretted my decision to come in the first place. At least at my old school there was always someone I knew to talk to or at least sit with in the cafeteria.

I repeated this routine for an entire week. Whether I sat and ate lunch alone or just went to the library, I dreaded fifth period. Sitting in class, you don't have to talk to friends and when you don't, teachers take it as focused. Instead of being focused, I would scan the room and try to figure out who looked friendly and who would be my first friend.

After spending the week lying to my parents saying I had a great day at school, it was time for me to go back to the basics, time to be five again.

That next week, I was walking in the hallway and I saw the ginger haired girl I has seen in most of my classes. I turned to her and said the most simple word someone could say when trying to make a new friend.

"Hi," I said feeling pretty proud of myself.

Lucky for me, the ginger haired girl with her skirt rolled and her shoes clogged, happened to be one of the most outgoing people anyone could meet.

That day we sat together at lunch and talked about everything. When I told her I just transferred here she said she honestly had no idea and just thought she hadn't met me yet. 

As she introduced me to all of her friends, I realized none of them knew I just transferred here either. In a school of over 2,000 students no one really pays attention to the people they had never met. I became instant best friends with a group of people that only grew throughout my time there.

Going into college, I had to start all over once again. Sometimes the simplest words can make the greatest connections and once again, I made great friends in college. 

Now as I am about to graduate, I think how I am going to have to do this all over again in the working force and I will remind myself to start with hi because we are all just five.

Target Audience

The target audience can be for anyone nervous about making new friends. It is important not to let social anxieties get in the way because everyone feels them one time or another. I do think this column would resonate for younger people because of the story telling and the age frame I was while telling it. I think people between the ages of 13-25 could relate to it more. Everyone is put in new situations where they need to make new friends and during your young teenage into adulthood lives it feels like this switch happens closely to every 4-5 years.