Reaching into my closet, my hand brushed a well-worn St. Teresa’s Academy tartan plaid uniform skirt, gravitating towards it simply by habit. Moving past it, I grab a stiff grey kilt and put it on for the first time. I looked at myself in the mirror one last time, absorbing how strange it felt to be wearing a Sion uniform, completely unaware of how much this kilt would change my life.

This was Aug. 9, 2012 – the day Notre Dame de Sion officially became a part of my world. I recall my dad’s first of many jokes upon my arrival to the breakfast table wearing the Sion uniform.

“What on Earth are you wearing? You know, it’s not Halloween.” Yes, dad, please continue to remind me that I am breaking the mold of multiple generations of family members who have graduated from STA and switching to the rival of my entire extended family. Great way to start off the day.

He was clearly joking, however, and I have now come to love the jokes made by family members about my Sion “rebellion.” Those jokes provide a perfect opportunity to brag about how awesome Sion is.  Not that they would have any firsthand knowledge on that.

I remember the sea of faces I saw on Aug. 9 at junior orientation, and my anxiety grew as I realized that these girls already had their place.

They knew who their friends were, they knew where they belonged and they definitely knew the difference between the New Grand Salle and the Old Grand Salle (that difference took me longer than I care to admit to figure out). As I stood up in the bleachers to be introduced during orientation that morning, this realization smacked me in the face and terrified me. Little did I know the sea of faces would quickly morph into the familiar faces of my sisters.

It wasn’t as if I walked into Sion and suddenly knew everything there was to know about the place. The year definitely had a few awkward I-feel-like-a-freshman-but-I’m-actually-a-junior-and-have-no-clue-what-is-going-on moments. And by a few, I mean hundreds. Maybe even thousands.

For example: the first STA vs. Sion volleyball game. This already would have been an awkward experience but my journalism teacher, Alison Long, forced me to videotape the game for Le Journal’s website – leading to multiple STA girls questioning 1) my attire matching Sion’s theme and 2) why I was filming the opponent and 3) me having to nicely inform them I no longer attended their school. If that isn’t awkward I don’t know what is.

Or that time during spirit week when a senior yelled at me to put my beanie on because they thought I was a freshman. Yeah, that happened, too.

The first grand assemble? My English class refused to tell me what it was and convinced me it was a HUGE secret and something I should be very, very fearful of.

“Oh no, Kim, you’re a transfer, watch out. We can’t tell you much but we can tell you that there will be Rockhurst boys and we are so sorry in advance.” Alright, cool, thanks guys, I almost stayed home from school that day and was slightly let down when not one Rockhurst male made an appearance that morning.

Another fond memory is from my first ever Le Journal worknight. I was getting ready to leave the publication lab when I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was in the building or how to get to my car in the parking lot. Charitable seniors Maura Eveld, Emma Eveld and Meg Cowan were so kind as to give me directions.

Only their directions didn’t take me to the parking lot. No, their directions had me standing in a maintence closet. Honestly I should have had a GPS to get around the first month of school because I had no clue where I was 99 percent of the time. Directions from jokesters such as the Le Journal staffers only confused me more. But hey, if anyone ever needs directions to the maintenance closet, I got your back.

“I’m just an innocent transfer, I don’t know anything,” became the best used excuse in my book.

These fresh moments of naivety only enhanced my first year at Sion. I viewed every day with a fresh set of eyes and a fresh perspective.  I was eager to learn more about the place that was quickly becoming my second home. By the end of August I decided there was something contagious in the air.  It was called pasSION.

My pasSION grew with each passing moment and I was eager to get back to school every morning – something most teenagers don’t say about their school. But then again, we are not like most teenagers. We get the ultimate privilege of attending Notre Dame de Sion.

I looked forward to even my toughest classes, because it was an opportunity to spend time with, laugh with, and create memories with the amazing role models that make up the Sion student body.

School each day meant hugs from junior Mary Sizemore, random laughs with junior Olivia Enright, smiles from junior Amelia Jones, hiding from Long under Cowan’s desk, tears over Algebra II with junior Kristine Sullivan, head nods with random freshman and all the other little moments of bliss that make Sion what it is.

School each day also meant getting deep insight about life from Kram during my study hall, whining about my overload of homework in counselor Erika Ellwanger’s room and stopping by Mama Koehler’s office for candy during a passing period. The little moments such as these quickly became big moments and piled together to define my first year at this school.

However, I could sum up all the moments in one word: community. Sion is a supportive, loving, hilarious, united community.

I will never forget the feeling that I had as the final buzzer sounded at the last home game of Sion vs. STA basketball. As I stormed the purple court alongside my best friends in the world, it finally sank in.  I was finally on the right side of the court. I truly belonged at Sion and I might even say I was the happiest a human being could possibly be.

Or the feeling I got when Emma Eveld gave me my very own junior class ring. I still catch myself staring at it dreamily (and guard it with my life after it fell into a McDonalds bathroom toilet – but that’s another story). I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that no other school ring would feel as good as the Sion ring does on my hand.

I have heard the phrase “there are no perfect schools, only perfect fits” repeated many times before, but at these moments that statement became true. Sion is the perfect fit for me.

I now know my way through the halls like I know the back of my hand, I scream at the top of my lungs at Sion sporting events, I belt the lyrics to the school song with no shame (even though I am unsure on a lot of the actual words) and I have hashtagged “vive” on an insanely large portion of my tweets.

I walk the familiar halls with the confidence that Sion has instilled in me in one short year and I feel at ease entering the school doors each morning. I have even found myself subconsciously driving to Sion when school is out and sitting in the parking lot just to enjoy a few peaceful moments in my own personal heaven (this may be borderline creepy).

It’s hard to believe that a year ago I was not even an enrolled student at Sion. Three hundred and sixty-five days later and I can’t imagine my life without it.

It’s hard to believe that grey kilt felt strange on my body and I was nervous about finding my own group of friends at Sion. I now wear my grey kilt with pride and every single student that owns one is a sister to me.

It’s even harder to believe that my first year at this school is officially completed and that my time at the greatest place on Earth is halfway over.

As I place my grey kilt in the back of my closet for the summer months, I can’t help but smile recalling all the hilarious times I had while adorned in it. And as I approach my senior year I can’t help but burst with excitement for the millions of memories that are to come. I can’t wait to continue my career as a Sionian and I can’t wait to help lead this school as not only a senior, but as a scream team leader.

I may have started the 2012-2013 school year as nothing but a transfer student, but as it ends I find myself relabeled as a true and pasSIONate member of the storm who feels like she’s attended Sion her entire life. Oh, and you might even hear me bragging that I bleed purple.

Regardless of whether someone is a transfer student who has only attended this school for one year or a legacy who has been here for four, Sion welcomes all people. Sion celebrates each individual’s strengths and weaknesses. Sion embraces our differences. You cannot tell the difference between the transfers and the students who have been here from the start because we are all key components of one community.

And for that and many other reasons, Sion will always remain number one in my heart.

Until next year Sionians… Stay classy.

Vive.