X-Block from Hell

Last Thursday in homeroom, my homeroom teacher was passing out our schedules for next year. Upon receiving mine, I quickly examined it to see if there were any problems. My heart stopped. There were. Not only did my schedule have problems, but the two problems had to do with English and physical education, the only two required classes for seniors (the rest are just for fun, or more importantly, to get into college). I was even more dismayed to find out over the next few hours that nearly everybody else that I knew had schedule problems. Maybe it was because of the override not passing, so classes were cancelled? Of course, our school has developed a system for fixing schedular problems, a mass schedule-fixing party in the cafeteria during X-block (a period after school ends on Mondays and Thursdays when many clubs and meetings are held) the next Monday, called Arena Scheduling. I had been to Arena Scheduling once before, in June of Freshman year, only to find out when I reached the end of the line that there was nothing wrong with my schedule. I didn't remember the details, but my general intuition told me that if this many people had schedule problems, Arena Scheduling would be pretty bad.

And, sure enough, when I reached the atrium in Red just after school today, there was already a long line winding around Main Street just to get into the cafeteria. By the time I made it through the doors and down the cafeteria stairs, the line was going faster, and at first, I was elated to see very few people in the cafeteria, with the department heads just sitting at desks, waiting for someone to come. But then I turned a corner and was dismayed; there were many people, but they were all waiting to get their yellow "Course Request" Correction Forms (don't ask me why the "Course Request" is in quotation marks) from their guidance counselors. Now, the last three days have been hot and humid, and this is bad enough. But picture near shoulder-to-shoulder contact with sweaty people in an overcrowded high school cafeteria in such weather, and you have something of an idea of what it was like. I couldn't even see the counselors, because there were so many people everywhere. I tried to squeeze my way between people to look for my counselor, which was a very slow process, and I often bumped into people, who luckily didn't seem to notice (I suppose everyone was bumping into everyone else, so it didn't matter). Finally, I saw a male figure sitting at one of the tables, and thought it was my counselor, so I got on line. A little while later, the crowds parted enough for me to see that it was not my counselor that I was waiting on line for. So I was lost in the crowd again, occasionally conversing with my fellow lost-people about the dreadful situation. At one point, I happened upon Sachi, and mentioned that I couldn't find my counselor. "Who is your counselor?" she asked. When I told her, she said, "is that him?" I looked to my left, and saw my counselor right there, in plain view. "Yes," I replied sheepishly, and got on line.

Now, it so happens that the line that I got on was not a straight line, but more of what looked like a U shape. Or so I thought. After a while, the girl who I thought was ahead of me told me that I was in front of her. Confused, I asked for clarification about the meaning of "in front". "Do you mean I am behind you, or ahead of you?" I asked, awkwardly. "Ahead," she replied. Strange, I thought. She continued, "the line is snaking like this," and showed me with her finger in a meandering line that I could make no sense of. But who was I to object? I was apparently ahead of so many people who had gotten on line before me. So I went along with the absurdity as if I understood, and reached my counselor pretty soon. There, I told him my problems, and he filled out my form, and I was off to the department heads to get my classes changed.

First, I went to the English department head, who didn't have much of a line, and I got that taken care of. Next came physical education, which had a monstruously long line. I don't know why it is, but P.E. classes are the ones that the most people have problems with. So I waited, and waited, and waited. At one point I saw Rebecca get on far behind me, and then a while later, Sachi. I couldn't help but grin to myself at how I had managed to get so far ahead of them. When I reached the end of the line, I was greeted by a cheerful female gym teacher, who tried to convince me not to take the wellness class that my counselor had written on my form, because I had taken it before. First, she tried to get me to register for PGA, or Personal Group Awareness. When I hesitated to agree to this, she had a renewed burst of excitement, and said, "How about Aquatic Instructer Certification" or something like that, "You could become a lifeguard! It would be such a useful job after college..." What an awkward position I had gotten into! I showed some interest, but mentioned that alas, I didn't want to have to bring in a bathing suit twice a week, and wash it, and all of that. She replied, "Oh, you just stuff it in your locker, and that takes care of it!" I still was hesitant. Yes, it would be interesting to learn to be a lifeguard, but...that dark, smelly, over-chlorinated Newton North swimming pool.... Eventually, the gym teacher said, "Don't be pressured. I'm pressuring you." She then asked if I really only had one block open to gym. I didn't know, but I pointed out that I was scheduled for three AP classes, and that would limit my options. Seeing my point, she grudgingly signed me up for wellness, and accused me of being an over-achiever. Now really, anyone who knows me knows that I am no over-achiever; I just enjoy learning. How insulting. But then, I was free! No more Arena Scheduling for me. It had taken me just over an hour. How lucky I was! Filled with the joy of freedom, I made my way to the cafeteria stairs, and after looking back at the poor students who were still waiting in lines, I skipped happily up the stairs.

-Philip