Editor’s Note: Molly Wetsch is a senior at Lincoln High School and the editor-in-chief of the Statesman. She has agreed to periodically share her experience this year as a high school senior.

I just realized it was exactly five months from the day we were all given the news that we would be out of school because of the pandemic until the day I was back at Lincoln High School for my last high school orientation day.

March 13 to Aug. 13. I don’t know what it felt like, but it wasn’t five months.

In between those dates was a huge shift in learning and a summer unlike anything I’ve experienced. Ahead is a senior year that — let’s be honest — is going to be difficult.

I grew up in Sioux Falls. I went to the Challenge Center for elementary school and Edison Middle School. When I’m not writing, you might find me singing with the choir. I go to the football games, homecoming and try to be part of Lincoln as much as I can.

But every experience I had come to expect for my senior year over the past three years has been upended so far and likely will continue to be.

When I went back Aug. 13, instead of mingling with friends that I hadn’t seen all summer, I gave them a wave from a safe 6-foot distance. I couldn’t shoot a smile at my favorite teacher from behind a mask; rather, it was reduced to a squint of the eye that probably looked more like a glare.

First, let me tell you what it was like getting to this point. It was a whirlwind. On March 13, we were given the news that we would be out of school for two weeks. We celebrated and assumed we’d be back by the end of the month.

Instead, we were shoved into a remote learning environment that was a huge shift from our previous in-person schoolwork. Unfortunately, there was an adjustment period for many to get used to — being responsible about homework and learning from our bed instead of a desk. And this adjustment period, for some, lasted through almost the end of the school year.

Teachers were, thankfully, very lenient and understanding — they were going through the same problems we were. Another huge change at the end of last year was our AP testing situation. Advanced Placement tests typically take place in May and are a nationwide three-hour standardized test, including questions, from essays to multiple choice. Your results can earn you college credit.

This year, the AP coordinators had to take a different approach and use an online version of the AP tests that were only 45 minutes long and, for most classes, had only one or two questions. Virtually every AP student was upset at this announcement. Honestly, it’s hard to assess your mastery of a class through two questions.

Despite these changes, I am excited and hopeful for the year to come. Senior year is supposed to be one of the most memorable of your educational experiences, and I’m ready to grasp it in any way I can. I’m grateful that I’m even getting the chance to return to Lincoln one last time, no matter how odd it may be; thousands of high school seniors across the country aren’t getting that chance.

Our return-to-learn plan is strict but necessary. Mask wearing is expected, one-way hallways will be enforced, and all of our desks will be 6 feet apart. I probably won’t get to make new friends in my classes — how am I supposed to even meet them? I’ll have to rely on my independence a lot this year — no group projects, no study sessions at the end of class.

There are a few things, however, that won’t change. No matter remote or in-person, I will be cheering on our football team so they can — finally — win the state championship. I’ll still sneak texts to my friends in class about how boring the subject matter is. I’ll still get to write for my school newspaper.

My hope is that I get to experience all the classic high school senior moments like prom, graduation and the senior party. I don’t know if my last day of school will actually be inside the school I’ve attended and loved since I was a freshman. I don’t know if I’ll be handed my diploma by my principal on graduation day or if I’ll pick it up from a sealed box outside on a random day in June. I don’t even know what tomorrow looks like.

All I know for now is that I just have to take it one day at a time and that nothing is ever promised in this day and age, so I have to take each curve ball with my head high and my backpack on my shoulders.