Saturday, August 1, 2009

Where were you then?

There are many "big" events where almost everyone seemed to know where they were, what they were doing, and who they were with. It might be because my memory is not as great as it could be, but I don't remember many of these moments. I could maybe remember 3. One of which doesn't count as it's a situation that's only big to me.

The first would be 911. I knew what I was doing; sleeping. I was too young to really understand all the implications of the event, but I knew it was a big thing. I went into my school, where the teacher decided that we needed to have a discussion about this major current event. We moved all the tables to the side, moved our chairs into a circle, then the teacher started briefing about the event for those of us who were not caught up. Obviously the briefing was very PG, since even as the vice principal the teacher could be fired if the conversation was too explicit. The class then all shared their views, before ending with a minute of silence.

Then comes HSF. As probably is the case with the other 9 finalists, I was at school when the phone calls were made. I dropped by home during lunch to see the answering machine blinking (well, it was blinking, but I was directed to it by my mom). I was freaked out (and evidently misunderstood the phone call) after listening to it a few times. I went back to school, explained the situation to my teacher, and excused myself for the afternoon. Apparently I looked pale; I definitely felt it. I had to psyche myself up (like I do with many many circumstances). I even had to phone one of my references to ease my nerves. After I felt that I've done as much nerve prepping as I could, I called Mr. Sommers. What came after is all over facebook.

Lastly, Obamamania. The mood that night was very weird. I was in Woodward, and was feeling really disappointed by the information night that was being held there. My future career looks more shrouded and bleak than ever before when I left the library. But as I walked out of the campus that night, getting ready to head home, the atmosphere didn't feel right. There was electricity in the air. I could not go a block without someone overhead yelling or some drunk pedestrian looking ecstatic. I had a hunch about what happened and sent a text to my friend from Chicago: "Did he win?" The affirmative answer explained my feelings as I crossed the campus that night. It seemed funny how the night that is marked with hope by millions of people around the world was so bleak to me.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It appears that we share several common grounds