The Unseen Thread: How High School Ties Continue to Weave My Life

Last weekend, an old friend from my high school days visited me from the U.S., and we met in the city of Tokyo, my hometown, to hang out. We caught up, exchanged stories over okonomiyaki, sukiyaki, and the city buzz, and it felt like we were transported back to our high school days.

52 of Us, from 21 Nations, Coming Together Under 1 Roof

When I was 16, I left the familiar streets of Tokyo behind and found myself at a boarding school in the heart of Colorado. It was a bold leap, an escape from the cocoon of my Japanese high school, and a step into the unknown.

For three years, I called that campus home, a place where I forged connections that are cherished in my heart today. It was my first time living away from my family for so long.

The school boasted a diverse student body, with over a third coming from countries outside the United States. Including Japan, the countries had over 20 varieties. Together with the students who came from other states, we lived under the same roof.

I was a vibrant and happy little one in the class. My first bonds were forged in the school’s dormitories, in advisee groups, and with the teammates on the girl’s swimming team. However, the class was so small that we knew each other’s birthdays. When those special days arrived, we’d gather at the school cafeteria, ring the bell, and sing in unison, celebrating the passage of time.

Separated from our families and homes, we became a makeshift family of brothers and sisters. We leaned on each other, sharing the weight of our collective homesickness and the joys of newfound friendships.

“When We Walk Out the Door Tomorrow Morning, We Will Never Be the Entire Class Together Again.”

As May approached, marking our senior year’s final stretch, our teachers organized for our class a special trip to a remote lodging house, a two-and-a-half-hour ride from campus. Over the course of a couple of days, we hiked through prairies, shared stories around bonfires, and gazed at the starry night skies.

On the last night, our teachers gathered us in the lounge.

Each of us received a candle, and a lighter made its way around the circle. In a matter of minutes, we sat encircled, the dark room’s center illuminated by the warm glow of our candles.

The vice principal, accompanying us on this journey, spoke somber words:

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll exit this door, return to campus, and prepare for graduation. Families will arrive, and you’ll scatter across different countries. So, this is the last moment when all of us will be together in one place. While you may cross paths in the future, be it in college or reunions, I promise it will never be the entire class together again.”

A hushed stillness settled over the room as we contemplated his words. Then, one classmate began sharing her cherished school memories, and another followed. Around the circle, one by one, we recounted our experiences and expressed gratitude for one another.

8 Years Later: Things That Changed, Things That Haven’t Changed.

Today, Tokyo is my home.

It has been years since I last set foot in the Colorado landscape. A pandemic kept us from our 5-year reunion, forcing us to adapt to a new way of connecting.

The world has changed, and so have we.

Our paths have diverged – our geographical locations scatter us across the globe. Some returned to their home countries, while others ventured to new nations.

Yet, amidst the changes, one thing remains untouched: the comfort and familiarity that envelops us when we reunite and share moments. It feels as if high school graduation was a mere few months ago. These classmates, the ones with whom I spent most of my formative years, have witnessed my life’s most diverse tapestry of experiences, the good and the bad.

I wouldn’t be the person I am today without the experiences and connections formed during these years. In an ever-shifting environment, they are my constant, my anchor, and an indispensable part of my journey, shaping who I’ve become and my path forward.