Simone

The end of school seems so inconceivably sudden. Instruction ends with a week left to take finals, followed by two or three days when no one shows up. I don’t know why we have these days. Maybe to clean gym lockers. And then school’s just over.

I’ve accepted that I’m going to have three Bs this year, and that three Bs are not the end of the world, and that I don’t want to take a math or science class over the summer just to impress college admissions people at Harvard, and Columbia, and Oxford. I’ve also accepted that I’m probably not going to Harvard, or Columbia, or Oxford. And that’s OK.

I’m thankful to go to school, and thankful that I do well in school, but I am so happy to be done sleeping six hours every night but the weekends. I’m done waking up Saturday with a sense of freedom I know is fleeting, and waking up Sunday with a draining feeling of responsibility in my gut. For the next three months, I won’t wake up on any weekday knowing that school was the reason I got up.

When I was 13, Hurricane Sandy happened and my family lost power for 10 days. School was canceled for two weeks, and every night was an adventure, choosing whether to sleep in our heatless home, or to stay with family friends. There were blizzards, and floods. For a lot of people, it was horrible: They lost their homes, or loved ones. For my parents, it was a nuisance. But I saw that my existence transcended eighth grade, and history notes, and impressing my crush, and choosing classes for high school. Nature was powerful, and superseded society. I felt alive.

During that time, I read Palo Alto. It’s about bored teenagers doing destructive things to feel alive. One crashes his car into a wall repeatedly, and drives down the wrong side of the highway. Another inflicts physical pain upon herself. A lot of them do a lot of drugs. I loved the book so much because I wanted to feel alive too.

In summer, you don’t have to drive recklessly, or feel pain, or even euphoria, to know you’re free. This summer, I will still spend three months submersed in suburban monotony, but nearly every decision is mine. ♦