https://everythingspeakstome.com/files/original/3d5e764ec10c79fbe6715d549cb628cd.png b3ba303f3d44372d337b03e9be0853e7 Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Text Please post your written submission in this field. The images you would like to include should be posted as attachments below. We aren’t the only ones the sun is warming up—it digs its heated fingers into the sand until it burns the bottom of our feet without mercy. Each ray is a glow of hope, as ridiculously optimistic as that sounds. Faintly, the sounds of waves crashing could be a symbol of danger to contrast it, but the water is far too clear to indicate any negative energy. At least, the visibility it currently possesses deters me from thinking about it. The moment feels as youthful and free as we are: seniors in high school celebrating our final year of “prison” (as we affectionately call it) by watching the sunrise on one of Miami’s many beaches. It’s a rite of passage here, the first of our last hurrahs before college. I suppose it’s amazing that we have the opportunity to do something like this, living in a coastal city. The feeling is mutual it seems: the water wraps around our legs as we wade through it, the waves pull us in closer for a soaking hug, and the sun is practically greeting us as it wakes up for the day. Deciding to give the water a break from our tight embrace, I walk up to where my friends are lounging on the sand. The only thing sparing their limbs from the hotness of the ground is the conglomerate of towels we haphazardly tried to set up. It wasn’t easy—the wind was unforgiving in comparison to everything else. It picked up bits and pieces of coarse sand and threw them around sporadically to remind us of its existence. I’d have thought the sand was betraying us if I wasn’t reminded of its usual softness tucked in between my toes. My friends seem content to let the quiet chimes of music from the speaker lull them to sleep. I understand: it is about 5:40 in the morning. I sink to my knees onto my own towel and settle onto my back. My feet are still hot as the sand breaks until it encircles them like a comforting cushion. The rest of me is cooler from the lingering effects of the ocean. I can feel the same sand digging into my left arm, though. My towel molds to fit my body, curving until it fits the shape of my back and leaves my left arm an outcast. Despite the slight discomfort from this development, it is easy to close my eyes and let the music overtake my senses. No matter how much the sun attempts to pierce my shut eyes—I can see orbs of light peeking into my vision regardless—it is more of a relief than a hindrance. I succumb to the depths of my imaginative dreams as some Bad Bunny song rings beside me. I can only describe dreams in the feeling they give you; this one was as peaceful as my environment was. At least, it is until every worry I’ve ever had about the future begins encroaching on that peace. This isn’t just a commemoration of our final year at high school. It’s a “goodbye in advance!” As new seniors, the year ahead of us contains many trials and tribulations: most importantly, college application. I feel I’m the only one thinking such gloomy thoughts on this increasingly bright morning until I wake up to hear my friends mumbling to each other. The way their words match what I was daydreaming about feels like they read my mind; it feels like I’m in a television sitcom, and a laugh track is about to play as the camera zooms into my widened eyes. I’m not in a sitcom, though. It’s exactly what everyone is thinking about on this beach as they play or tan or swim. My friends talk about where they want to apply and how much they’ll have to pay. They worry about ending up with a large sum of student loans or wasting their time chasing the wrong degree. It feels like such a personal conversation, but it’s the most common thing to talk about here. We’re all going through the same thing as new high school seniors. None of the previous seniors could have prepared us for this sense of unity in stress and anxiety. I’m alone in this terrifying process: I have no clue what my future holds, and that feeling is like a snake wrapping tightly around my organs. Yet, these people breathing the same salty air that I’m inhaling through my suffocated lungs understand me. I open my eyes, and I’m immediately blinded by the sun. In the time that I was resting my eyes, it peeked further out of the sky, brightening the contemplative faces of everyone around me. I see people throwing beach balls back and forth and people splashing around, but there’s tense energy in the curve of their brows. It feels like everyone is waiting for someone to say what we’re all thinking. The light isn’t a symbol of hope in the way I thought it was; it has become an opening, a path. Perhaps that path leads to something good, but I can’t be sure. None of us can really be sure. My friend pats me on the head when he notices I’m awake. He asks my thoughts on the matter. I can’t for the life of me give him an answer. I dodge the question with some meaningless comments of “everything’s gonna be okay” and “whatever happens is meant to be!” It’s what everyone says to avoid admitting how scared they are. I look out to the sea. It seems clear on surface level, but who knows how dark it gets. The sea is one of the most unknown, unforgiving places on the planet. It beats college or the future by a million and then some. So much of it is unexplored, and that should be terrifying. Still, dozens of teenagers are lounging by it or stepping in it without fear. By all means, it defies logic to hold such unease for one mystery and none for an even bigger one. What species exist below the furthest point humans can go? What dangers lie in the murky waters we haven’t seen? We’re fish out of water when it comes to what we haven’t yet observed. But in the rising light of day, we’re protected by its clarity. I suppose the future is like that too. We can only know how far we’ve seen; anything else is an enigma waiting for us to uncover it. If there’s anything we can find solace in as we wait to learn more, it’s that everyone else is in the same flimsy boat in the turbid sea. Seniors gather around a beach to celebrate the mystery that awaits us in a place that holds countless more secrets. Maybe comparing the two will make the future seem less terrifying. Or maybe, this Senior Sunrise will at last watch someone confess how afraid they truly are. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Light and The Unknown Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Stephanie Acosta Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03/08/2023