
[EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is a Letter to the Editor, written and submitted by a verified Burien resident. It represents the opinion of the author, and does not necessarily reflect the views of South King Media or its staff.]
Graduation season is often dressed in bright smiles, proud speeches, and a cascade of congratulatory social media posts. Caps fly, tears fall, and camera flashes capture milestone moments that, for many, are supposed to symbolize joy, pride, and the promise of a bright future. But what is rarely captured—what lingers in the quiet spaces between celebration and departure—is a profound grief that many high school seniors experience, one that is too often dismissed or ignored. In a culture obsessed with positivity, especially during transitional milestones, we are failing a generation by not acknowledging that for some, graduation feels less like a beginning and more like an ending.
Toxic positivity—the insistence on maintaining a relentlessly optimistic front no matter how dire or complex the emotional reality—runs rampant during graduation season. Phrases like “You’re going to do amazing things!” or “The best is yet to come!” are said with good intentions, but they can feel suffocating to students who are grappling with fear, uncertainty, and a deep sense of loss. For many graduates, high school is more than just a place of learning—it’s a community, a source of structure, and in some cases, the most stable environment they’ve ever known. To leave that behind isn’t always exciting; it can be terrifying.
The reality is that high school graduation often triggers a unique kind of grief. Friendships that once felt unbreakable begin to dissolve. Teachers who were mentors suddenly become distant figures of the past. Routines vanish, and the safety of familiarity is replaced by an overwhelming unknown. For students with unstable home lives or mental health challenges, the transition can be especially brutal. Yet rather than give space for these emotions, we bombard teens with pressure to be grateful and excited. In doing so, we silence their grief.
The consequences of this silence are not abstract. According to research, the transition from adolescence to adulthood is one of the most emotionally vulnerable times in a person’s life. Suicide remains the second leading cause of death among young people aged 15 to 24. Substance use—often a form of self-medication—frequently spikes during this period as young adults struggle to cope with emotional turmoil. When we gloss over their pain with platitudes, we deny them the opportunity to process it in healthy, meaningful ways.
The mental health connection is clear: when grief goes unrecognized, it goes untreated. And when young people feel they must smile through their sadness to meet societal expectations, they internalize the idea that their pain is abnormal or shameful. That loneliness only intensifies, and in that isolation, destructive behaviors often take root. It’s time we stop pretending that graduation is universally joyful. It is not. And that’s okay.
We need to replace toxic positivity with emotional realism. This doesn’t mean abandoning hope—it means redefining it. Hope is not pretending everything is fine; it’s believing that we can get through things even when they’re not. It’s acknowledging fear while still moving forward. In uncertain times—when the job market is unstable, college debt looms, and the world feels increasingly chaotic—our young people deserve more than a highlight reel of clichés. They deserve truth, support, and space to grieve.
Graduation can be a celebration, yes—but it can also be a loss. Both can exist at the same time. By embracing this duality, we give our young people permission to be human. We give them tools to navigate life not with denial, but with courage and clarity. And in that honesty, we plant the seeds for a more compassionate, resilient future.
– Danielle Stubblefield
EDITOR’S NOTE: Do you have an opinion you’d like to share with our highly engaged local Readers? If so, please email your Letter to the Editor to scott@southkingmedia.com and, pending review and verification that you’re a real human being, we may publish it. Letter writers must use their full name, as well as provide an address and phone number (NOT for publication but for verification purposes). Read our Letter to the Editor policy here.
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