Column: Walk at Your Own Risk in High School Hallways


Ashlyn Jacobs, Editor-in-Chief

Without a doubt, high school boasts many wonderful opportunities — for anyone from the high-achieving advanced student, to the gregarious socialite, to the tireless athlete — and yet, each day the attendees of high schools across the nation must endure the unfortunate experience that spares no man or woman of misery. This everyday unavoidable task ,this nuisance of an activity, can only be described as the horrible passage from one end of the school to another — or, in other words, walking the hallways. 

Sure, getting from one classroom to the next may seem like a simple task, but the everyday vexations of crowded corridors only add to the toppling tower of student stressors teen-agers must face.
To begin the exasperating journey, the unlucky student must first don the appropriate apparel: tight shoes to avoid the inevitable flat-tiring of the heel, warm layers to evade the frigid, wintry airs, and, the greatest of all, the 20-pound joy-draining leech also known as a backpack. Atrociously heavy, full of oversized and unnecessary textbooks, this modern wonder holds all students will ever need to hopefully, maybe, if he is lucky, succeed at their high school endeavors. Remember to zip it up; any attempts to recover spilled items may result in injury.

Now, with the battle armor in place and 10 minutes on the clock, the time has arrived to brave the treacherous passage. First, the student must employ all of the possible strategies to weave, dodge and maneuver around and through the various packs of slow-moving chatterboxes. To successfully pass such a gaggle in the Link, he must hover awkwardly behind the troop and, at a time when fewer passers-by are careening in the opposite direction, speed forward and around. The student, now ahead, must repeat this routine like a moped rider in a slow-motion Formula One race in hopes of reaching the next class on time.

Meanwhile, amidst the high-action, densely overcrowded hallway hiking, an impressive array of intriguing sites may present themselves to the scene. Chief among these is the all-but-elusive public display of affection, familiar to all but pleasant to none. While the degree of intensity correlates with the level of viewing distaste, none have their place in the halls of high school. Thus, he is wary, and dons blinders when necessary.

The unpleasantries do not stop there, nor are they limited to only eyesight. Ears, too, must bear the pain of absorbing the sounds of nearly 2,000 peers. Unwarranted speaker-blasted music, high-pitched shrieks of unknown origin, and thoroughly deafening decibels of loud conversations all blend into one melodious cacophony sure to annoy any innocent walker. Do not even mention the scents which emanate from those who possess an apparent aversion to showers and surely plague the noses of other (sufficiently groomed) students. No, the hallway experience does not discriminate against only one of the five senses — it equally aggrieves all.

And so, if the student effectively manages to surpass these various obstacles, he may now arrive at the next class and ungracefully heave the backpack-leech onto the floor and unpack its contents. He has survived the odyssey. He can sit back, exhale a sigh of relief, and proceed with the necessary class participation. He may now relax . . . that is, until the bell rings again.