There’s nothing more embarrassing than rediscovering our past selves. Whether it’s leafing through our seventh grade New Mexico photos or watching old home videos, seeing ourselves through the no-holds-barred lens of the past is like meeting a whole other, incredibly cringe-worthy person. But for nostalgia’s sake, I’d like to not just confront my past embarrassments, but to gloriously bask in them. Hence I present a response to my Mo Ranch Letter.

Dear Jenny,

I love that when presented with the prompt, “Write a letter to future self,” you took it upon yourself to completely disregard the instructions provided and instead scribble out a random list of facts, you teen rebel you. I also appreciate the Earl Grey tea bag you enclosed—I remember how you thought it would be endearing to break off a crumb from your life and share it with me. It is, but it’s also just kind of weird.

Let’s address some of the facts you outlined in the segment aptly titled “Basics.” Sea-blue is your favorite color, but you’re not unique—it’s also everybody else’s. I’m also surprised that Chipotle is your be-all and end-all favorite restaurant right now. In a few years, an E. Coli outbreak will plague Chipotle food, forever deterring you from entering its plywood-steel interiors ever again. It’s a tragedy, I agree.

I’m also glad you’ve noted that EARL GREY (notice the use of all caps) was your favorite type of tea, as if the attached crusty tea bag wasn’t indicative enough. To be fair, I do remember drinking Earl Grey tea for the first time at Mo Ranch as a near-magical experience. On day three, tired of drinking plain water, I obtained a cup of it in the cafeteria and subsequently downed two more—what I wouldn’t give to be a freshman again.

Real talk though, I really enjoyed reading back on your reflections on your school life. Your enthusiasm is infectious, palpable through your little remarks and tidbits. I’m happy to say that the feeling doesn’t wear off. Even as a senior, the beginning of the school year carries a certain giddy excitement of learning, getting to know your teachers and seeing everyone in your grade again, both close friends and the acquaintances you wave to in the hall.

Despite these initial enthusiasms, I can visibly discern your anxiety about the future in your questions about the JRP, about college, about friends. I remember writing this letter, my elbows propped on the sticky cafeteria table, a sudden nervousness washing over me as I thought about the future.

In response to these queries: it’s not so bad. To put it in your terms, tackling the JRP or college is like the first step up the Mo Pole. It’s talked about in interested whispers throughout the hallways and looks absolutely terrifying from afar. But when you take a breath and heave yourself up the first staple of the pole, you can only see your feet and your hands, one-by-one climbing the structure. Only after you get to the top and look down can you see how far you’ve really gotten.

And don’t be so excited to “get it all over with”—you won’t realize the true impact of your high school experience until senior year. Work harder, play harder and savor the minute details you’ll never get anywhere else: the profound discussions you have in English, the familiarity of putting on that plaid skirt, the subconscious humming to the music seniors blast Friday mornings, the struggles and the laughter and the worry and everything in between.

I can only hope that I can follow through on the advice you posited at the end of the letter. I’ll keep close to my heart those words you so carefully wrote down all those years ago: “I love you so much, be the best you can be this last year.”

Sincerely,

Jenny at 16

– Jenny Zhu – Editor-in-Chief –