The Graduation Party

This story is a product of my "Passion Project". I needed to find a way to corporate my passion and curriculum of my class (SAP-Sociology, Anthropology, Psychology) and make a product out of it.

Introduction

Stories have much impact on us on a daily basis. We watch movies, TV shows, read novels and short stories, cartoon, and watch musicals and other arts all to listen to stories. Scientifically, they make us think and imagine by activating the sensory cortex of our brain. We tend to imagine the events as if the descriptions in the story are alive with all five senses. It also makes us feel as if we are in the story, a character’s feeling, and in the physical setting and so we feel emotions as we go through the same journey of a character in a story. We get to really experience the emotions and the messages the author wants to convey.

The neurochemical called oxytocin is a key signal whether something is safe or not. When we consider something safe or kind, oxytocin is produced. It evokes empathy, the ability to experience emotions, and make a bond (between you and the character). Empathy allows us to understand other people and relate to them, even if one does not necessarily have the same specific experience. We, as human beings, are social creatures. We depend on each other and interact by communication. In order to communicate, we need storytellings, which are human memories, experience, and therefore part of their life, and empathy, in order to have emotions for the stories.

This is how we can relate to one another and understand an emotion or a situation. Storytelling is a very important and basic part of human lives, because that is how we get to know each other, make relationships, communicate, and establish cultures and societies.

Reference:

My goal for this passion project is to make a short story to show how stories have a great impact on people. So I decided to write a story based on my point of view of high school and share it for comments.

I'd like for you readers to comment anything about this story (good or bad) that is related to SAP (Sociology, Anthropology, Psychology). Some of the questions are:

1. Was there anything you could relate the story to your personal life? (if not, how does this story have no connection to your personal life at all?)

2. How do you think stories impact you? (if not, how do stories have no impact at all?)

3. What do you feel when you're reading a story?

4. Is there any character you can relate to?

5. Why, do you think, people like to read or listen to new stories?

6. If stories haven't existed at all, what would have happened?

7. Anything else?

The Graduation Party

The colourful lights, loud music, and people dancing are the first things I see after half an hour of driving.  I believe it’s Jason’s house. I don’t remember the last time I had a conversation with him, but everyone’s at the graduation party and so am I. I put a bright yellow dress on, which is not too revealing but not too covered up. I walk with a cup of juice in my hand to find my group, my friends that I may never see again, since we’re moving on to postsecondary school, employment, or a gap year.

“Hey! How’s it going?” Arms suddenly grab me from behind, but I don’t know who it is at first. I wait. Long, light blonde hair, a thin voice, skinny body. It’s Sara.

“Awesome. Can’t believe high school’s over.” My voice never sounds enthusiastic enough compared to Sara; she is always jaunty, and I can always feel the lightheartedness. I often wonder if she has any problems herself.

“I know, right? Same. Come on, everyone’s in the basement!” She grabs my hand.

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I see them. Max, Ruby, Conner and Abby, all sitting on a violet sofa. Sara, taking the weight off her feet by leaning against the sofa, announces, “Jan’s here,” and everyone looks at me. I sit on a tiny spot left on the sofa.

“Hey, everyone. How’s the party?”

“Pretty great, supposedly the party is running till midnight. You’ll all stay, right?” Max asks.

“Ya, guys, let’s all stay and have the last time together as high school folks,” Abby replies. I notice her new bracelets as she speaks. I wonder where she got her them this time. These are all friendship bracelets she wears and the numbers have accumulated. They cover from her wrist to her forearm. The colourful bracelets go well together with her slim, jovial face and a black shirt that is always too big for her size. Each bracelet has its own story; it’s quite interesting. A new story, I guess.

Before I begin to ask, Ruby says, “New bracelets, huh?”

“Ya, pretty interesting story, too.” You can see her shiny blue eyes full of stories. This time was a little different.

“You guys know that I am always allergic to teachers and school in general. Turns out I suck at life too.” Her voice fries at the end of the sentence. I don’t why, but I like that. Sounds friendly. As she continues, Ruby and I sit on the ground, listening to her story.

“Do you remember Ms. Kelsy’s art assignment?”

There is a pause. I don’t know what is going on, but I am sure this is not a smooth pause. It is an awkward silence. We know what she is talking about.

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“Alright guys, make sure you have FIVE members in your group! You hear that? Not four, not six, FIVE!” When Ms. Kelsy explains the art project, none of it matters to me. Glancing at each other, switching looks, everyone has already figured out who would be with who. I start to feel anxious. I glance at the other people around me. Thank God, Sara is looking at me and pointing that I am included in the group. Then I happen to see Abby, whose seat was too far behind to notice, left without a group. I quickly pretend not to notice her hoping that she didn’t catch me looking at her.

“What should we draw? Any ideas?” Max casually asks. It is evident that he had already noticed Abby.

“How about the ocean? We can put some really diverse species living in the ocean.” Sara, as always, initiates an idea.

“I’ll get some paints and crayons.” I know everyone has had already noticed Abby with an unwanted group.  

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“Hey, anyways, guys. The point of this project is how well we make it look all uniform as if one person drew it. You know what I mean?” says Max. It is surprising he said that; I don’t remember anything he said that is related to doing well in projects.

“I’m surprised you said that,” Ruby teases him. Max does sound like a different person. We paint at my house. About a couple hours later, the painting looks decent enough. Then I detect a tiny yellow spot on the blue ocean. I tried to take it out.

“Do you guys see that yellow spot?” I inquire.

Conner smirks, “Can you see that? The spot’s so tiny! It’s funny you noticed that first! Thought you couldn’t see with those eyes that well!” His laugh annoys me, but I can’t think of anything to say.

By the end of the day, the art looks completed. My ideas were not even incorporated, the painting itself is sloppy, and most of the time I was irritated by Conner, although I did not say anything. I wonder how Abby’s group did. Why couldn’t I have joined her group? I look at my phone to check if anyone had texted me. In less than three minutes, I skim through facebook, youtube, twitter, and snapchat. Hey, streaks are important. It’s hard to stop looking at your phone once you’ve started. Right after, I am in instagram, looking at Abby’s photo. It’s a bright-filtered picture of five happy-looking students all smiling, with a hashtag #artproject #fun #artrock with everyone’s names tagged. I double-tap the photo, but there is a part of me with an unpleasant feeling, like remorse.

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Abby says, “You know, I never really liked that project.”

“Neither did I,” was Max’s whisper.

“What do you mean? Yours was so nicely done!”

Sara agrees with me, “You even have the nicest photo of it on instagram! Ours was so bad, we had the lowest mark.”

“Yeah, but…” I sense that Abby might be starting a conversation that I wanted to start a long ago. She continued. “But you guys never really invited me. I am aware that only five people were allowed in a group, but at least a couple of you could have joined me.”

I haven’t realized this until now, but maybe we aren’t really friends after all. Maybe we all needed each other to have a sense of belonging. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been this kind of conversation at the graduation party.

The first one to reply is Max, unexpectedly. “I wanted to, but no one really talked about it, so I thought no one else would join me.” A pause. “There were other times when I was left out, and nothing was done. I thought the best way was to just ignore those situations and get on with it. Just to be cool, you know?”

Maybe it’s my turn to say things. But I keep my mouth shut.

“Wow, now that I think about it, I don’t know why I stood there with my mouth shut. I was maybe pressured that I shouldn’t be saying anything,” Ruby said quietly. No one is smiling anymore. I can’t turn the mood up. I have no intention to. Ruby isn’t sarcastic anymore. Her eye-rolling habit has disappeared and her face is especially calm.

“Max, why did you say you didn’t like the art project?” Abby seems curious.

                       ---------------------

“Who’s gonna be doing the written component?” I look around. “Ruby, wanna do it?”

“Oh, so sorry, I have work tonight! Maybe next time?” Great, like always. I’ve never really mentioned this to her, but Ruby’s never done her part in a group project like this.

“Well, I need a person to help me edit my work.” Why isn’t anyone taking this seriously?

“Hey, can I try the writing part?” Max, really? My eyes widen, because he barely writes anything. There was one time he handed in one paragraph for a five-page essay assignment in English. How do I reject his offer kindly?

“Ya… sure!” Urgh. The art is already messed up, so I decide to give up.

“Ya… no Max, you can’t, and all of us know why,” Conner interrupts. He has the world’s most crooked smile ever.

“Are you doing it, then?” I ask.

“Sure, it’ll be really crappy, but then it’ll always look better than what Max would write! Am I right, guys?”

“Am I right?” Conner repeats, still smiling. Sometimes I don’t want to deal with him.

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“Hand in your art assignments on my desk,” says Ms. Kelsy.

Reluctantly, I come up to her and say, “Hi, Ms. Kelsy, I was wondering if we could get extra time with the written component. Apparently, Conner is the one writing it, and he’s not finished.”

I see the disappointed look in her eyes. I know there is going to be a whole lecture. I really didn’t want to be the one requesting an extension, but somehow, here I am.

Surprisingly, after a few seconds of staring at my eyes, she approves the extension. Then I see Max, with a paper in his hands.

“Our paragraph,” he says simply.

“Oh, thanks, Max. I guess you won’t be needing an extension, Jan.”

I stand awkwardly.

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“Not one of you thanked me,” Max states.

“But we did!” Sara disagrees.

“No, you guys didn’t mean it! Why did you have to always look down on me? I know that I’m not as smart as any of you, but I tried!”

“Not really, dude. Remember when you wrote a paragraph for an essay that was supposed to be five pages long?” Conner is sometimes a douchebag.

“That’s because""” he almost sounds like he’s crying, pleading for us to stop.

“Yes, I’d have to agree with that. You didn’t even try filling out the required amount of work,” Sara quietly says.

“That’s because I have dyslexia!”

I’m shocked. That explains everything. I wonder why he never said anything. We would have understood. Maybe we could have helped him. Why did he have to keep it to himself for the whole entire years of high school? I don’t even know if I know Max anymore. This single information has changed a chunk of things about him, my first impressions, feelings, and perception of him could have been just a part of me being very judgemental and prejudiced.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask.

“I didn’t see the point. Maybe I was a little embarrassed. I definitely thought Conner and other guys would make fun of it, too.”

“Why are you telling us now?” Conner looks at him.

“I think it’s because I don’t want you guys to misunderstand me for not trying hard at school. I am not always the light-hearted one, alright? I am definitely not one of those people who doesn’t try hard at school just because they think it’s cool.”

Even Conner has no idea what to say. The music is still on, everyone upstairs is still dancing, and we are truthfully and earnestly telling each other how we really feel at our graduation party. It would have been awkward if the music wasn’t turned on.

“Wow, we really didn’t know that you were suffering,” Sara’s sweet voice.

“Yes, I agree.” I truly do agree.

“But… I am almost relieved that you shared that with us. Because… I never really wanted to tell you guys this, but my parents got a divorce this year. Specifically, when we were doing our art project was when the divorce became final. Now I’m living with my mom. It’s so weird not having my dad around.”

“What? But you are always so upbeat! I never understood how you could be so energetic. You never gave us a hint,” I say, shocked.

Do I even know these kids anymore? Who else has secrets? This is too much to handle. But then at the same time, I am glad we are all sharing this together.

“I didn’t want you guys to know, but after what Max told us, I guess now I want you to know. I don’t want you to think that everything is always perfect for me. I don’t smile like this at home.” Sara smiles awkwardly.

“Wow… so many secrets. I am starting to doubt we were even friends. This is awful, you guys.” Ruby speaks for the first time in a while.

“You might be right. Maybe we were friends because we all needed a group to belong at high school.” I finally speak, not daring to look at any of them.

“Jan, that’s so mean!” Abby cries. I don’t mean it that way, but it came out already. What’s done is done.

“What I’m saying is, we were all reluctant to confront this. Why couldn’t we have been honest in the first place?” No one speaks, so I decide to continue.

“Conner, when you said I wouldn’t be able to see small things, what did you mean by that?”

There was an uncomfortable look in Conner’s eyes. I decide to push harder.

“What did you mean?”

His eyes are unsettling. “You know"" cuz you"" you, because you’re Asian and all""”

“Yeah?”

“Um, you know it’s nothing serious, Jan. Just chill! It was supposed to be funny!”

“But it wasn’t.”

“Dude, I think this is where you gotta apologize,” Max adds.

“Yes, please do.” My voice is strong enough, and there is no shaking this time.

“I’m sorry.”

“Much better,” Sara comments.

I feel a sense of relief. It feels good to get all this out in the open. Then there is a little disappointment that comes next. Why hadn’t anyone tried to stop Conner? Why did it have to be at the graduation party?

“Max, we are so sorry that we underestimated you and your school work. Sara, I’m so sorry for assuming everything. It’s just that you weren’t telling us anything""”

Before I finish, Sara interrupts, “Just like how you didn’t stand up for yourself,” which hits me really hard.

“I thought we""all of us""were friends,” Conner says quietly.

“So did I.” Abby, please don’t cry. Now this hurts a little. She touches her bracelets over and over again.

“We were talking about how Abby’s bracelets look fantastic, and now here we were, just realizing how high school was so draining.” I remind them.

“Actually, these bracelets… they were for you.” Abby lets out a slight chuckle. There, I see her dimple.

“I wanted to give you these… until the art project when I was excluded.” This hits me hard, and, from the looks on their faces, everyone else feels pretty bad, too.

She hands us each a bracelet. “We did have some good times, you know. We were just too scared to confront all these little problems. Do you like your bracelets?”

“I think they’re lovely,” I say, and everyone agrees.

Reviews

[yasmin]

I love this story!! Its very easy to understand because I can relate it to myself and other people in my life. Good job!

[ilikenaruto]

Wow!! I love this story so much because I can relate to it so much to my own personal experiences!! I hope you write more stories like this, because it's really great!