Summer break not what it used to be
Highlands TodayOne of the most ironic things about childhood is the fact that we never truly appreciate being a child. When I was younger, I couldn't wait to grow into that elusive stage of adulthood, the time when I could single handedly have authority over myself. Yes to ice cream for dinner and no to unloading the dishwasher.
Published: June 30, 2009
Published: June 30, 2009
Adults, according to my perspective, had a wonderful carefree life of doing whatever whenever. Plastic cards that were like free money, cars to drive as fast as was wanted, and parties to attend that didn't end until dawn; the life of the glamorous was the life to envy.
The only bargaining chip that we had was the guaranteed 10 weeks off from school that were the oasis in the dry succession known as the school year. Summer was a time for us to unwind and settle into the comfortable crook of our imagination that tided us over until either boredom set in or the next school year started. The malignant alarm clock became irrelevant as time was measured in days left until the start of school.
During summer, there was finally time to bury that time capsule and make that pretend carnival in the backyard. All the big plans and fantastic ideas somehow seemed possible when the magical aura of summer cast its glow. There were no limitations, until now, that is.
Because all that wanting and wishing has come true and cast an ugly reality over my summer, I'm growing up.
What once seemed to be out into the far off future, a land of eventually and "when you're older" is now fast approaching. As I ascend to that magic number, I look back and realize that as much as I tried not to, I fell into the cliché. I frittered away my precious summers, thought of them as expendable extensions of youth, and am now left with 10 weeks to finish reading lists, packets and projects for next year. What's left of my summer is like a favorite old sock riddled with holes. I am spending less time envisioning the future than I am preparing for it.
And while it is inconsequential to lament over what was and what could have been, it's all a part of growing up. I had my chance as did many others to make the most of the hiatus. What's left to do now is to embrace the future and bend to the beckoning harbinger of change.
As I compartmentalize my to do list and figure out what book I forgot to read and what activities to plan for summer camp, I will watch the ones that have their whole summers ahead of them, the ones with possibilities, the ones I now envy.
The ties of childhood that I tried to sever and stretch away from are now the roots to which I so desperately cling. Both my childhood and Alice Cooper's song "School's Out For Summer" are fading to black.
Suzannah Beiner is a junior at Sebring High School