For all the time I’ve been happily involved in Archer’s Ambassadors program and orchestras, for every second I spend laughing in Creative Writing, I sometimes forget that I used to be very, very lonely at school, especially during sixth grade.

In fifth grade, my teacher asked my mom which middle schools I was applying to. My mom listed several public schools, not even considering private school at all. But when my teacher introduced Archer to my family, and I stepped onto campus for the October open house, I fell madly in love with Archer.

I had never seen anything like the fireworks activity, where I heated chemicals over a Bunsen burner to change the color of the flame. Even walking through the Courtyard and watching water shoot up from the fountain in graceful arcs filled me with such joy that, on the drive home and throughout the application process, I couldn’t stop thinking about the prospect coming back to campus as a student, as an Archer girl.

One day, my mom carefully told me that even if I were to be accepted, I wouldn’t be able to attend Archer if I wasn’t granted enough financial aid. Of course, my 10-year-old self didn’t question it much; it was obvious I had to be realistic about the whole ordeal.

So when I was accepted and finally set foot on campus as a tiny, excited sixth grader with her skirt down to her shins and her polo buttoned up all the way, I told myself that my experience at Archer would be perfect. I’d make lots of friends, I’d do well academically, I’d be involved in as many clubs as I’d like and I’d love every minute of it.

Reality came crashing down once more when the first part didn’t work out so beautifully. I just couldn’t fit in. I was afraid to open my lunch in front of other people and let the pungent smell of kimchi or marinated pork waft through the air, lest I see someone pinch their nose and comment that it smelled. At my elementary school, I had plenty of friends of color and was shocked to arrive at Archer and find that I was the only Korean in my grade. In a school of mostly white, well-to-do girls, I, as an Asian, low-income student with first-generation immigrant parents, couldn’t help but stick out.

At Fall Outing, my classmate whispered to me that she had heard another classmate call me a dork. Later on, I saw three girls glancing at each other and giggling after they made eye contact with me while walking past. Eventually, after more similar incidents, I decided that it was fine if I had no friends, so I ate lunch accompanied by only my laptop, trying to quell my loneliness with television.

But it didn’t work. I felt further isolated. One day, I cried in the car while begging to my mom to let me transfer. I guess you could say I focused too much on my differences, but how could I not?

Now, as a 12th grader who has gone through many formative experiences at Archer and can be found either napping on the Library couches or laughing with friends in the Courtyard at lunch, I think those hardships were necessary.

The negative times were actually pretty positive learning experiences. Not fitting in forced me to think about ways I could fit in, leading me to view my differences as my identity, as a good thing. Spending time at Archer inside and outside the classroom with honesty, respect and responsibility as my guiding principles, living and laughing in a supportive sisterhood and being encouraged no matter what helped me grow as a student, as a citizen and as a person.

I know it’s only November, so this column can probably be considered an extremely premature thank you letter. But there will be more thank you’s from me to share throughout my last year. I am grateful, and I will always be grateful for what Archer has done for me.