Dear holey polo,

I remember yearning for you my freshman year. I showed up on my first day of high school with my skirt pleated and a notecard’s length from my knees and my white polo gleaming and new (and without sweat stains in the armpits). When my mom and I discussed what color and style polos I wanted that previous summer, we both settled on white, short sleeve shirts. It was what everyone had worn in grade school and I might as well continue wearing what I thought I was comfortable in, right?

I had always wanted to go to St. Teresa’s, and in my first year at the beloved Academy I realized two things: not everyone wears a short sleeved white polo and high school, especially at STA, is a lot of hard work.

I soon noticed how the uniform polo choices had broadened since grade school, how it wasn’t the custom to wear a bright white shirt, and instead girls wore black and white, in both short and long sleeve options. Each student had their personal preference and wore what they were comfortable in.

A few months into my freshman year, I decided I needed long sleeves for the next year. I also noticed quite a few upperclassmen had something in their wardrobe, this thing soon became what I thought of as the embodiment of the STA girl I always dreamed of being. This thing was you, holey polo.

As soon as my freshman year ended and the order forms were sent out for new polos, I demanded my mom buy me a few of those coveted long sleeve shirts. I walked into sophomore year waiting for those holes to sprout through my shirt.

In this year I realized another thing – those holes require work, work that only a true STA girl can achieve. School only gets harder from freshman year, and I realized this as I tackled essays, tests, and hours of homework thrown my way as I struggled to find my place sophomore year.

But, finally, at the end of that year, the stress and workload upon me splintered the elbows of my polo shirts and the holes emerged. With this breakthrough came a comfort at STA that I had only previously found at home, a thankfulness for the workload that has made me believe I can really achieve anything, and an appreciation for the hard-working girls surrounding me. So, here’s to you, holey polo.

Love,

A Really Thankful Girl