One of Blue Valley High School’s many traditions is to roll out that pretty red carpet for the incoming freshman class. All of the freshmen walk down an aisle of teachers, administrators and mentors welcoming them to their new school.

I, however, was one of the few, maybe even the only one, to trip.

And that’s kind of a depiction of how the rest of my high school career has gone — one big, awkward and disappointing stumble.

I bombed a lot of tests.

I got caught up in the “cool crowd.”

I turned in far too many assignments far too late — or not at all.

I burned bridges.

And I fell for the wrong boys — we’re talking the ones who never take you on an actual date and only really text you past 10 o’clock — shoutout to that one upperclassman who broke my little freshman heart.

I want to say high school has been great.

I want to be able to conform with the majority and say high school has included some of the best years of my life.

I really do, but know that if I ever do say that, I’ve probably fallen and smacked my head on the pavement — hard.

What I can say, though, is that these four years of high school, although pretty brutal to say the least, have been some the most important years of my life thus far.

I’m not saying I have it all figured out — that I’ve cracked the code to life — or anything along those lines, but I have learned some extremely valuable lessons that I’d be crazy not to share.

Throughout these four years many of my teachers and mentors have thrown out several aphorisms of their own.

One in particular being the standard, “No question is a dumb question.” I was always thinking, “Haha, well, clearly you don’t know the questions floating around in my head right now.”

Whenever I heard the cliché, “Be yourself,” I thought, “Trust me, no one wants to see that.”

I was too engrossed in what everyone else thought of me.

But last school year, around this time, I came to this big realization — why does what others think of you even matter? I mean, aside from maybe a higher GPA, superior test scores or in this area, your daddy’s credit card, we’re all just…high schoolers.

And I hate to minimize the achievements of our overall intelligent and talented class, but in the grand scheme of things, as terrible as it sounds, we, as well as our problems, achievements and mistakes, are all, to some extent, entirely insignificant — and that fact will remain for the rest of our lives.

It sounds like an extremely pessimistic way of thinking, but there truly are a lot of good reasons to recognize your complete and utter insignificance.

There’s a famous Calvin and Hobbes comic that reads, “If people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, I bet they would live a lot differently.”

I mean, think about it, in 100 years, even 10 years probably, no one will remember what you did in high school. Even now, no one (who I know of) remembers that mortifying fall I had freshman year.

Believe me, I’m still trying to obtain the seemingly unachievable “significant” just as everyone else is. It’s just important to remain humble in doing so.

Because at the end of the day, you are who you are, not what you did, especially not in high school.

So, ask “dumb” questions. At least you’ll get an answer.

Stop trying to achieve some image of what you think everyone wants you to be, and just be who you really are. That’s how you find your real friends anyway.

Trip in front of the whole school for God’s sake!

It’s just high school.