2026 – Madeline Morris – Carbon High School HS

Refinding Belonging

Going into my freshman year, I was alone, I was frightened, and I didn’t know who I was. I spent the next two and a half years working to fix that. I involved myself in programs, I reached out and made new friends, and I was accepted into groups and circles. I made many strong friends; I lost others. Like everyone else, I fought through challenging teachers, deadlines, and heartbreak. The spot I found myself in my junior year was one of stability. I had finally found my place. I had found my friends, my confidence, my identity. I felt like I could walk into any room in the school in any outfit I wanted, in any mood I was, and be as truly me as I was, and I felt comfortable in that. I had friends that meant the world to me, underclassmen that looked up to me, and teachers that relied on me. I knew this would be the year I’d get the leading roll in shows for the drama department to which I had dedicated hours of my life. My band was learning challenging and exciting pieces, as was my choir. At the high  school, I was in my element. It had taken two and a half years to get there. 

Then, in what felt like almost overnight, I lost it all. My family had made the decision that we needed to move – move a thousand miles to a new school, a new city, and a new state. Price, Utah. None of my family had ever been there, so I would be starting completely over. 

We needed to move as soon as possible, so I left with my mom in the middle of the school year. We would go down, try and find a house, and I’d start high school at the start of fourth quarter. My dad would stay behind with my two brothers and try to sell our house. Hopefully soon, they too would be able to join us. 

March 17, 2025, I drove with my mom seventeen hours with an uncertain destination ahead of us. I had to say goodbye to people that meant the world to me, and I lost everything. That entire drive down to Utah, we either cried until we couldn’t see, or laughed until we couldn’t breathe. 

We had no home and no friends. The only people we knew were the in-laws of my cousin who had been married less than a year. They were kind enough to offer us a place to stay, and so we lived in someone else’s basement. We had few of our own things, and little room in which to keep them. We lived in a limbo of hiding in their basement and being included in their daily activities. Nothing was certain; nothing was secure. My family was split apart, and everyday that went by I ached for what I had lost. Meanwhile, everyone I had left just went on without me. At times it felt like I didn’t matter. No one in this new place knew me. I felt insignificant. 

My biggest fear was that in addition to losing everything I had, I would lose everything I had become as well. I didn’t want to revert back to that frightened, lonely girl who had started freshman year. So I made a plan. I would join all the same programs I had been a part of before. I would push past my fears and talk to new people. I would look for friends and not stop until I found them, until I found my place. And I would hold onto my identity with all the determination in me. 

Concert band was hard. Jazz band was hard. Choir was hard. Drama was hard. Starting up classes in the middle of the school year was hard. Friendships were hard. 

After the first day of school, I already had multiple tests covering subjects for which I had not been in class, and three concerts I was expected to perform in as part of my grade. I spent hours learning music and memorizing songs so that I could participate. I wanted so badly to feel like part of the group. I wanted to belong. 

Every day was a battle. I struggled in band because I had come from a school where my talent was essential and relied on, and now found myself forgotten in the back row of my instrument’s section. I felt unimportant. I struggled in choir because I missed the music I had been learning before and grown to love. I felt discouraged. I struggled in drama because I lost the assurance that I would finally get the leading role I had dreamed of and was cast as ensemble. I felt untalented and unexceptional. I struggled in my regular classes because I didn’t know what was going on and I didn’t understand school culture. I felt lost. I struggled with friends because I didn’t know where I belonged and I longed for true connection. I felt homesick. 

Amidst all of these swirling feelings, I knew that I was the one with the ability to get all the things I wanted – to refind all that I had lost. Just as in every struggle before, I knew I could press through and achieve my goals because that is what I wanted. My determination is one of my greatest strengths and with it comes the mindset that I can achieve anything I dream of because I refuse to give up until I do. So with every day that came, I kept fighting. I came back, I showed up, and I put in all my effort and all that is me – and I did so with a sparkle and a song.

I became flute captain in band because of my dedication and reliability. I belong. I feel like an integral member of the choir and act as a section leader because I am willing to work hard. I belong. I have a place in drama and strong connections with the other students, and I even got a leading role in the next play because I kept coming back. I belong. I have maintained my 4.0 and feel comfortable in all my classes because I was willing to put in the work. I belong. I have found myself surrounded by an army of friends in every class because I allowed myself to open up to the people around me, because I went and sought out connections, because I chose to interact like a friend. I belong.

And it’s more than just belonging. In just a short amount of time, I’ve built my life here. I am a firm believer of success. I am a firm believer of joy. These things are not dependent on the circumstances or even the opportunities of our lives. These things rely on what we are willing to put in and on our focus. Know what you want to do, discover who you want to be, and work towards those goals. All it takes is a little determination, effort, and optimism to create the world in which you want to live. 

 

After all is said and done, I choose to belong.