Prologue:
After countless revisions and edits, I am finally embarking on this graduation statement. Rather than detailing the accumulated experiences of the application process here, I prefer to use this article to showcase and document my own growth. This is perhaps the first time in recent years that I have written for myself, the last time I engaged in such serious contemplation may have been during the G2 Chinese International Exam (laughs). If this article seems somewhat like a mere account, it is not my intention; it is merely due to my limited literary skills, for which I ask your forgiveness.
To my four-year self at SCIE, where I have grown:
Before high school, I studied in public elementary and middle schools, facing crowded classrooms of over fifty students daily. My childhood lacked extracurricular activities, filled instead with wearying after-school sessions at supplementary institutions. This routine left me feeling detached, as if there were no connection between me and the world — running after classes risked disciplinary action, playful moments with friends invited parental disapproval, and failing to excel beyond the curriculum brought criticism. Adults believed children’s potential was limitless, achievable through effort; lacking results indicated insufficient diligence.
Amidst this environment, I navigated through middle school in a haze of confusion: what was the purpose of living? With average grades, indifferent relationships with teachers and classmates, and heartfelt farewells to close friends, I bid farewell to middle school.
My encounter with DGIST was straightforward. Growing up in Shenzhen, DGIST, alongside the “Big Four,” stood as a top-tier high school. After some preparation, driven by curiosity about forging a different path in life and family expectations, I ultimately chose DGIST. Now, as I lift my gaze from the computer screen to the rain-shrouded skyscrapers, I can almost see the reserved girl I once was on the first day of G1, standing nervously at the south gate, hesitant to step into this new campus, watching confidently outgoing students bustling by.
Upon entering G1, like many transferred from the public system, I struggled to adapt to the entirely new learning environment. Fully English-taught classes, small-classroom settings with a rotating schedule, and exams that calculated GPA each time… Fortunately, during that year, I found a few precious friends who accompanied me through my entire high school journey. I still cherish the laughter in the campus café, the days spent studying together in the library, and the memories of our outings.
During my leisure time, I immersed myself in various clubs to enrich my life. I embarked on journeys to Xishuangbanna with my best friend to protect animals, exploring a life vastly different from before and seeking deeper connections with the world. During the summer break between G1 and G2, I became captivated by Genshin Impact, savoring the breathtaking island scenery. Would we witness each other’s growth over the next three years?
After a year of development, I became adept at communicating with teachers and classmates, integrating into more social activities like murder mysteries, escape rooms, and outdoor cycling. Every leisurely weekend, we poured our hearts out in cafes and discussed future aspirations while strolling through shopping malls. Those moments remain vivid as ever, with sunlight streaming through windows and the aroma of coffee lingering in the air.
I actively participated in clubs, competitions, volunteer teaching, and summer camps. These past two years have been a profound exploration of myself, yielding rich rewards. Choosing psychology as my major seemed like a natural fit. Through observation of my own periods of confusion, my friends’ experiences, and practical engagement—learning about sexual education in competitions, studying different psychological disorders and treatments through reading and summer camps, discussing feminism and LGBTQ issues in clubs, and studying pedagogy in volunteer teaching—I developed a strong interest in psychology. I wanted to understand the underlying causes of mental illnesses and hoped to alleviate the suffering of others. Therefore, when deciding my academic path, I rejected my parents’ expectations for economics or the sciences and resolutely chose psychology.
Now, I seem to have grasped a bit more clearly that living is about engaging with the things I love.
Upon entering A1, the frequent reminders from my parents and agents that “this international exam determines your future,” coupled with the increased academic difficulty, doubled my study pressure. Every time I entered the classroom and saw the PowerPoint slides displayed on the whiteboard and the figures of my classmates sitting attentively, I felt a wave of inexplicable weakness. At the same time, my friends and I founded two clubs and embarked on new research projects. The sudden depletion of energy threw me back into the confusion reminiscent of middle school, if not worse. I would break down in the restroom over a math statistics exam, even though this grade wouldn’t affect my GPA; often, late at night, I would sit on the balcony chair, feeling the breeze and crying until two or three in the morning. “A series of youth” became the signature in my friends’ circle during that period. Fortunately, the unconditional love and support from my family and friends helped me get through the difficult A1—a gratitude that words cannot express. Whenever I looked at the distant skyscraper lights twinkling from the balcony late at night, the loneliness in my heart would always be dispelled by their care.
Through this experience, I have grown stronger, regained a sense of anticipation for life, and learned to love myself and life more. I have become more confident, outgoing, and emotionally stable. In this increasingly improving life, my peers and I have published papers and interned at psychiatric hospitals in Beijing together. Every time we walked out of the hospital gates, greeted by the sunset’s afterglow, I felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction, as if I were contributing to change in this world.
At this moment, it seems I have begun to understand that living is about better connecting with and colliding with the world around me.
Soon, I entered what everyone referred to as A2. Influenced by agents and senior students, I began to grasp the pressures of application season. Despite thinking I was fully prepared, reality hit me hard. Disappointing scores in international exams, essays for universities in the US, UK, and Hong Kong, and unavoidable internal tests plunged me into deep exhaustion and weariness. At home, all I wanted to do was lie down and scroll through my phone, lacking motivation for anything else. Yet, the experiences from A1 indeed equipped me with resilience to face more challenges. After completing applications and taking a brief Christmas break, I resumed my efforts to meet the admission requirements set by universities.
In closing:
Amidst the cheers of “We graduated!” I approach my final moments at this school. What seemed like an eternity four years ago is now right before my eyes. Every path and corner of the campus holds countless memories for me. Even the ordinary classrooms have been lit up by our youthful energy. I’m grateful that I never lost my way, steadily moving towards my dreams. Now, I understand that living is about meeting a better version of myself.
With this piece, I express my gratitude to the family, friends, and teachers who have supported me all along. I embrace the ever-evolving self of these four years of youth and dedicate this to all of us who are slowly but surely becoming better.
- Article / Candy Feng
