Feature Post
By 12th-Grade Blogger Melina Brodeur
The school grows crowded with students by about 8:45 a.m. People who I have seen for years but never spoken to walk inside the big building–backpacks slung over their shoulders. Some of them are out of dress code. I should get out of the car and join them, but I don’t. I continue to look down at my phone.
The small screen that I hold shields me from the world right in front of my eyes. I swipe and swipe on my phone. Minutes pass. Five minutes, maybe even eight. I tend not to pay attention to the time. This is a pause I make every day. It’s almost even a routine, a moment not big enough to be remembered, a moment that happens almost every day. But one day I notice there are many other students who do the same. Many students around me in the parking lot also sit in their cars–some scrolling on their phones, others sitting and listening to music; some even sit there and stare until they’re ready to walk inside.
We are alone, all in our own cars with the same little pause in the morning. This is the time we take to get ourselves ready to get out of the car and start the day.
We define high school as this huge moment that shapes who we are. But high school is made up of these small, unnoticeable moments too: the time it takes to walk from class to class, the minute before the teacher calls your name for attendance, or the moment before you open the car door. Waiting isn’t anything dramatized, nor is it meaningful.
But waiting takes up our lives. Waiting makes up moments that may feel empty and mean nothing.
In these moments, we think about things that we forget the next second; we worry about the day; we wonder what people think of us, maybe even wonder who we may be in the future. Sitting in the car for me is a moment to understand and brace for the day. It is the moment when my private life switches into my public life–outside that car door stands every expectation.
These moments are not the person we present in a class environment, not the one posting on social media, but instead the person alone in their thoughts. And tomorrow morning, everything will continue; students will sit in their cars, looking at their phones, looking around, and listening to music all over again. And these moments will be overlooked.













