This is a weird one. This is my last assignment in high school. This blog post is, I mean. As I sit here writing it, once again way too close to the deadline, I think about the five years I’ve spent in this school and the three hours I have left. This blog post is supposed to be a reflection on our last project, Extreme!, in which we studied cults and the psychology behind why people join them. I’ve already been accepted into my program for university, so I’m just gonna talk about the bare minimum of this project and then touch on some more sentimental things.

Our driving question was “What psychological, social, and cultural factors drive individuals to seek belonging in groups with extreme or radical beliefs, and how do these groups fulfill needs that mainstream communities may not?”

Max L and I studied two groups, one of which was a cult, and the events that led to their demise. These groups were the Branch Davidians and the infamous ATF/FBI siege at their Mt. Caramel compound, and the Weaver family and their violent deaths at the hands of US Marshalls at their home in Ruby Ridge, Idaho. For our final product, we presented pieces of “evidence” from the two events, that we had made ourselves.

To read more about this project, I’ll link our research document.

https://clubs-send-hsx.craft.me/Fb2HG2LGPw1Q62

Here is our “evidence”

Now, onto the real stuff.

I’ve spent the last five years of my life in what a lot of people would argue is also a cult. PLP has been my family through high school, and leaving finally is bittersweet.

Most of my identity has been formed in this program. From what happened in New Mexico not staying in New Mexico to what happened in Loon Lake thankfully staying in Loon Lake, every stupid decision I’ve made in high school has brought me to this point, yet again crunching three hours before a deadline on an assignment I told my parents I did last week. I’m gonna miss this being the most stressful experience of my week. Good lord, I am NOT ready for taxes.

The friends I’ve made here and the lessons I’ve learned from both them and my teachers have formed me into the human being I am today. This is the end of my last assignment in high school. I’m wearing the same hoodie I wore on my first day of grade 8, and this will probably be the last time I wear it. It doesn’t fit me any more, like all of my clothes from then. My cousin bought it for me in Boulder, Colorado, where my now best friend (who I also met in PLP) was born. The kid who was given that hoodie no longer exists. He may as well be an entirely different person. Now, I’m growing into a young man, graduating high school today. Just like this tattered old hoodie, I’m ready for a new life.

Thanks for reading all these blog posts,

Over and Out.