This week marks the ending of AP exams, a two-week process consisting of 10 days of testing. For some, this marks a much more significant matter: the finish line. With curricula winding down, AP testing signals the last few weeks of the school year. Most students find themselves antsy to conclude, as the summer entails an absence of stress and a lack of a set routine. Students have remained disciplined for nearly 180 days.
Another phenomenon plagues the air of the Green Level hallways, an epidemic: Senioritis. According to Google, this is defined as a supposed affliction of students in their final year of high school or college, characterized by a decline in motivation or performance. This is quite apparent in the 2025 class of Green Level Gators, who took on the liberty of recently celebrating National Decision Day.
In the midst of excitement for a new beginning, we attempt not to wish time away. Valuable years we will never again live. Time can be a thief, and nostalgia a painful force. Illuminated on the graduation countdown clock, gifted by the class of 2023, is 30 days. Despite this number, there are only 13 regular school days left for seniors.
Students have worked hard for the past 3.5 years, balancing APs, extracurriculars, leadership roles, and athletics. With college decisions finalized, many feel a temporary lack of purpose. A multitude of students have mentally moved on to what lies ahead: college, the workforce, trade school, and so on. However, senioritis isn’t just about losing steam or burning out; it can also stem from anxiety, sentimentality, or even grief about leaving. There’s a strange guilt that follows not caring as much when you know your time is running out.
Eddie Wasdell teaches Economics and Personal Finance at Green Level. This entire senior class aims to prepare individuals for their plans beyond college, which also happens to be a graduation requirement. I was curious to gauge his view on this, all-senior class period, and their work ethic. Wasdell concludes, “I’ve definitely seen a drop off in focus and even a more flippant attitude towards school in general.”
After inquiring about the nature of senioritis, Wasdell emphasizes, “I think there are multiple facets to it. Obviously, it’s a big moment, right? Getting out of high school. I also think that the exemption policy doesn’t help at all. Ten absences are excessive in my opinion.” Wasdell discerns that the Green Level absence and senior policies largely enhance students’ desire to skip class or fall back on work. However, he is also sympathetic to the students’ realization of the anticipation that stems from this big life transition and how this might fuel the infectious phenomenon of senioritis. He denotes that students are susceptible to “feeding off other students’ energy.” As a teacher, he has tried to remain upbeat to keep students motivated and encouraged.
All of this is to say, senioritis isn’t just about slacking or losing interest, but rather it reflects something a little more human. Something deeper. It is the body and mind’s quiet response to years of pressure, striving, and being constantly evaluated within the academic setting. For many of these Gators, it marks the first time they are allowing themselves to breathe, pause, and reflect.
Beneath the complaints, apparent whining, and late assignments, there is something that can only be described as tender: an emotional unraveling that began in year 1. Kindergarten. Letting go of high school entails letting go of a version of ourselves we’ve spent four years building. It’s saying goodbye to people we’ve grown beside, even if we have yet to cross a superficial barrier of acquaintanceship or friendship, routines that felt endless, and places that have become second homes.
Senioritis, in its truest form, is not apathy. It is a transition. Growing accustomed to change. It’s finding peace within the war of anxiety in our minds. It’s the realization that we’re on the edge of something bigger, but that this step forward means leaving something behind. Though I believe the things we love never truly leave us.
In short, maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to judge it. Instead, we should recognize senioritis for what it is: a rite of passage. It does not signal the end of caring, but the beginning of letting go. Instead of shaming senioritis, let’s rebrand it as a natural coping mechanism for saying goodbye to all we’ve ever known. Our small words are getting ready to grow a whole lot bigger.
Sincerely,
A senior who caught the senioritis.
