High school sucks. The early wake-up, long classes, bland lunch food, after-school activities, and a pile of homework to end your day can weigh down the soul, especially when you finally crawl into bed and realize that it’ll all repeat tomorrow.

But amidst that stormy outlook, there’s no shortage of silver linings. The alarm clock’s early ringing is forgotten as soon as you get out of bed. Your tedious class is prime ground for making lasting memories with a friend. The lunch food isn’t bad at all, compared to what it could be—especially considering that it’s complimentary—and getting in the habit of finishing homework as soon as you get it is extremely beneficial in preparation for a future job.

Even apart from all of these eye-rolling-ly pragmatic reasons, simply attending high school offers you so many opportunities you simply wouldn’t have access to if you just stayed at home all day, getting Cheeto dust on your phone screen. Through Monarch programs, you can fly real airplanes, meet celebrities (see The Mix’s Coach Prime interview a couple of years ago), and travel around the world with your favorite teachers. You can play unique sports like rugby, field hockey, or ultimate frisbee at a high level. Our teachers are great, our location is advantageous, and we’re considered a nationally prestigious school.

All of this opportunity is there for the taking! There is no one stopping you from taking advantage of it. Monarch is a lucky place to be a student in terms of its academic prestige, location, and network of teachers. And this is all coming from me, who used to go to Centaurus—and had a burning hatred for all things black and gold. I don’t regret my transfer.

Not to say that Monarch is a perfect school, though. I do think Centaurus is a more social and “fun” school to be at (which is debatably important when it comes to a learning environment), but even with the awful HVAC, obvious drug use, and other assorted issues, I would stack MoHi against any other school in the state, if not the entire region.

These kinds of problems are also unfair to blame on Monarch because concerns like these will be present anywhere you go. Even kids at Peoria High in Arizona (the so-called “best” high school in the nation) will complain about what food is in the vending machines.

All this to say, I encourage you to stop for a moment to look around at the lucky environment you happen to be in and to engage in school activities wherever you can. Involve yourself, and make your face known around the school. Form friendly relationships with your teachers, and use the resources around you to make your hopes and dreams into a reality; you’ll regret it later if you don’t (if you plan to submit college applications, these things are paramount). I’m only now, as a senior, looking around at the posters in the halls and open clubs and appreciating them for what they are. I joined The Mix on a whim, and now I’m writing something that YOU are currently reading, and I’ve never even met you. I’d have met you sooner if I had then practiced what I now preach.

I’m going to college next year, where there’ll be an ocean of clubs, student organizations, and opportunities, but that’s normal for the course at any sizable university. Monarch’s activities are free—not including the relatively small fee for sports, or the costs of class trips—while those undergraduate classes cost real money, no matter how niche, under-the-radar, or up-your-alley they are. College students are adults, which means they have to worry about things like taxes, quotas, and quicksand (probably, I wouldn’t know). Nobody has time to go hang out with Mr. Mainland in Sarajevo with those things on their mind.

So face the monotony. Face the blank, gray canvas and fill it with the things that will make the gray fade, until over time your day-to-day is as colorful as you deserve for it to be. Embrace the enthusiastic people and open doorways around you, strive every day to further your perfectly unrelated passions, and move with the current that pulls you to what you truly want to do.

Don’t be a spectator in your own life. Be the pilot.