A tumor. No one wants one, but some must deal with one. He had three. To those who know someone diagnosed with one, it saddens; but to those who survive through one, it strengthens. He would have been insurpassable had he never been diagnosed; but his was terminal.
It’s a condition, and it’s not chosen.

Knowing someone like this – someone who walked down the right path, yet once diagnosed, endured until his last breath – changes everything. You see people who are saddened over a test score; you laugh. You see people who skip school to hit the beach or to smoke at a friend’s house or to go out to lunch; you shake your head. You see people who drink, drive and damage their reputations and their integrity and sometimes, unfortunately, their friends; you hate.

You see people make decisions – horrible, illogical decisions – and it moves you.

We can change all of these actions and consequences. We are empowered to control how much time we spend studying for a test and, therefore, the grade we receive. We are enabled to decide which friends to keep, which classes to take, which accessories to buy and, thus, the kind of person we become. We are sanctioned, even after making the illegal decision to drink underage, to opt out of driving home, potentially saving our life or the life of another. All of these things fall under our decision.

A tumor does not.

After spending four years at Palmetto, I can say this with a steeled confidence: the level of success I reached in high school was entirely my decision, and how memorable my high-school experience was depended on whether or not I chose to make it worthwhile. “Should I join Mu Alpha Theta?” “Should I study for Calculus?” “Should I miss school to attend a swimming competition?” “Should I take Physics C?”

Everything was a decision: from investing hundreds of hours on the school swim team for four years to choosing to attend the University of Florida over the summer; from signing up for Journalism to picking up a pencil and writing this editorial.

In no way is this article an advertisement to always abide by the rules, and in no way is this article a desperate plea to always conform with the public; we should be independent and form our own unique identities in every which way we find appropriate.

Making an occasional impulsive decision can be great, for distinct memories and learning experiences are occasionally created by making such decisions.

But for the most part, I have learned throughout high school that you need to analyze your choices, weigh your options and avoid making illogical, irrational decisions. Performing the tasks in your life with enthusiasm and energy – with purpose – will add meaning to the four years you spend in high school.

And most importantly, do not take for granted your ability to make those decisions; many incidents occur throughout our lives that fall beyond our control, whether it be for the better – like finding a spare dollar on the side of the road as you go on a morning jog and parking next to a meter with leftover time- or it be for the worse- like a tumor.

Take my advice, and that cap and gown you wear at the end of your senior year as you walk across the stage to receive your long-awaited diploma will symbolize much more than accomplishment.