On March 4, while every other grade was beginning first period, we juniors were standing outside the Miramonte High School gym. Much like an awkward sixth-grade dance, girls and boys were all separated. To my right there were groupsof chatty girls, to my left, clusters of boys acting coy, and in front of me a few scattered individuals trying to find something to do until their friends arrived.

            I heard groups of friends asking each other the meaning of Challenge Day and discussing rumors they had heard about it. As we stepped inside, we were informed that it was an attempt to solve social issues and help us deal with the pressures of being a teenager. We would be seniors next year, and should act as role models for the rest of the school. 

            Once our questions were answered and we reluctantly re-introduced ourselves to a room of classmates most of us had already known for years, our Challenge Day leaders, Yvonne and Rich, said it was time for the activities. 

            Unexpectedly, these activities brought people to tears. The most emotional time was when Yvonne placed us in a line and told us to walk to the other side of the room if a certain statement applied to us. The statements ranged from “Cross the line if you have ever been hurt by anyone in this room,” to heavier issues such as, “Cross the line if you or anyone you know has ever thought of or attempted to commit suicide.”

            I watched and walked with my classmates as all of us bravely disproved stereotypes and gave everyone a chance to understand each other more. People became so emotional that even those who were initially chatting and acting casual outside began to cry. 

            Many of us were surprised when one usually reserved boy saw his friend crying, asked Yvonne for the microphone, and declared, “I just want to let you know that I’m here for you.” This statement seemed to spark a series of unexpected events. Several minutes later, one girl stood up and read aloud a letter she would give to her mother, apologizing for anything she had done that could have hurt her.

            The part that most attempted to bring us closer was when we all gathered into groups of five or six people, all from different social groups.  We were then told to share aspects about ourselves that we may not even tell our closest friends.  In my “family,” as Yvonne and Rich affectionately called our groups, we discussed everything from the stresses of junior year to the deaths of family members.

            The day was like a scene out of a movie—we laughed, cried, and shared our secrets with people we thought we knew though never truly understood. What none of us realized is that the separation I observed outside the gym was the exact problem Challenge Day hoped to remedy—and to some extent, it did. 

I cannot tell whether the effects will last, but it seems there is a chance that the freshmen next year may receive hugs in lieu of a senior prank—only if they are as open-minded to us as we were taught to be to them.

- Alia Fite