As I am writing this, it is day two of the state mandated extended spring break. In the past five days, I have witnessed my senior year and life change in ways that I could have never fathomed. Friday was one of the most chaotic days of my life.
As the hours rolled by, I watched my senior year slip further and further away from me. School was canceled, Prom was postponed, my spring show lost it’s venue, rehearsals where canceled and dance classes were canceled. Each part of my life was immediately and drastically changed.
I’m devastated. I know that the shut down of schools and canceling of events is ultimately the best solution our government has right now for stopping this disease from advancing any further than it already has. The last thing I want to do is disobey the government’s orders and compromise someone’s health.
It’s heartbreaking to know that the precious little time I had left at Scottsboro High School has been, quite frankly, robbed from my peers and I. A lot of my peers are upset about the postponement of Prom but it’s not just about Prom. It’s everyday moments that we take for granted. That’s what I’ll miss the most.
In January, I wrote about the expectations that people have for their senior year. I pondered if my last semester of high school would meet all of my preconceived notions. I think that a small part of me knew that in some way those expectations would not be met but I didn’t think that would an abrupt stop to life as I know it. I’m not panicking about the disease. I’m panicking about lost time.
After my last day of school, my dad asked me if I had considered that I might have just experienced my last day of high school. Though it’s unlikely that this thought is true, this moment made me realize just how little control I have over my life. Nothing is guaranteed.
For four years I have maintained roughly the same schedule: school, dance, homework, rinse and repeat. I’m the type of person who craves schedule and routine.
I’m trying to stay faithful to my normal schedule but it’s been difficult to be motivated to study or keep up my ballet technique when there is no promise that I will be able to return to school or dance. That is the scariest part about this situation–the uncertainty.
Not knowing how long it will be until life returns to normal (whatever that means) is terrifying. In truth, life will probably never completely return to the way it was before the outbreak.
Maybe this view is selfish. After all, there are people sick and dying. I should consider myself lucky that my biggest concern is missing out on my senior year. However, I can only offer my own personal experiences and I believe that, in this case, I am not alone.