Joined: 8/7/2009
Posts: 39

For the past 2 years, when it came to college, I’ve been like a dog eagerly waiting for his master to take him to the park. “Hey hey hey are we gonna go now? Can we can we can we huh huh huh pleeeeeease?”

No doubt some people think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. Ever since day one of junior year, I’ve just wanted to be done with high school and leave for college. Previous blogs will confirm that I’ve basically hated school for a while. This past year, as graduation kept getting closer and closer, I wasn’t at all apprehensive. All I said to anyone about it was, “I can’t wait to get out of here, I’m so sick of this place,” because that was how I honestly felt.

I only had one fear going into graduation, and it was that sometime during the ceremony, I’d take back everything I’d said about being eager to get to college, and I’d start crying as soon as we threw our caps into the air, and my friends would look at me and say, “I thought you just wanted to ‘get out of here,’ but look at you, you’re crying harder than anyone here.”

Hey people, understand that I have a reputation to uphold.

But as the ceremony kept going, and going, and going… and going, and as I watched each of my friends and classmates pick up their diplomas, I still wasn’t feeling any nostalgia at all. I just wanted it to be officially over so I could go to college. To the park.

But it wasn’t possible to just “go” to the park. If you’ll allow me to continue with my analogy, I had to take a few trips to the vet first. And, like all dogs, I hated going to the vet.

No matter how badly I didn’t want to go, my master- the public school system- made me. Sometimes if I struggled enough, I could work the collar over my ears and avoid the trip, but that just made the next time all the more painful.

The routine was the same each time though, which probably helped me stay sane. Once I got to the vet, (am I seriously using this analogy?) I was reminded that not every aspect of it was bad. I got to see other dogs - my friends - and bark at them, and have them bark back. And through the exchanging of barks I realized they were all in the same boat as me; unwillingly dragged here by their masters. So things didn’t seem so bad. At least I wasn’t alone.

However, the inevitable was only put off for so long, and before I knew what was happening they took me into that back room and stuck the thermometer up my ass, which was as unwarranted as it was unwelcome. My master kept a firm hand on me the whole time, assuring me it was going to be over soon, but I knew he was only trying to temporarily appease me. The shots were still to come.

The shots- in this case, my classes- each had something different to offer me. This shot fended off this disease, that shot guarded against that one, but none of that mattered while they were sticking me with needles, while I was sitting in class. I didn’t care what effect the shots, the knowledge, would have on me in the long run; right now- they hurt, and I didn’t like it. But still, my master was right there, over my shoulder, saying we were almost done.

I knew he was telling the truth this time, so when he clipped the leash back on my collar I pulled him out the door as hard as I could. Out in the lobby I saw some of the same dogs as before, and we barked at each other again, complaining about how much our rumps hurt, how much we hated high school, and how we hated our masters, hated the system, for putting us through this.

While we were waiting to check out, I heard my master say, “Wanna go to the park?”

And of course, at those words my drooping ears perked right up. So I started jumping up and down, barking for no reason at all, while the other dogs looked at me like I was an idiot. I didn’t know what their problem was; I was gonna get to meet new dogs, sniff new trees, and stretch my legs. It all sounded so wonderful, how could anyone think I was crazy?

Because they were comfortable right where they were- not at the vet, but at home, with those who loved them. They had doubts about what would happen when they got to the park. They thought the other dogs would growl at them, that the trees would smell too different, and that they’d get hurt if they ran too fast.

I understood their concern, and recognized that their fears were very real ones. But it didn’t stop me from wanting to go. The park still sounded every bit as good to me.

But I couldn’t help but wonder, why didn’t I have any of those fears?

Look, I know it’s a ridiculous analogy that lasted way longer than I intended it to, I really do, but it works for what I’m trying to say. For the past two years I’ve been that dog, suffering through vet visits and what I thought were pointless shots wanting nothing more than to just go to the park. To graduate and get to college.

And I’ve wanted it so badly I didn’t shed a tear at graduation. I was rock solid.

I’m still just as eager to meet new dogs and stretch my legs. And if they growl at me, I’ll growl right back, and if I get hurt, I have no doubts I’ll heal.

Can we please go to the park now? I really wanna go to the park.