Time is a peculiar phenomenon: Days and years pass by way too fast and yet when you're actually living each day and hour they pass so slowly. As I look into my not- so- far- off- future, many questions start to flood my mind. But one seems to prevail over all: “Am I in over my head?” From where I sit now, writing this blog, life seems easy. It's like a trance where I just write what I feel at the moment, but soon the trance is broken and reality hits me like a frying pan to the back of the head.
    When I look at my transcript from Kenny Lake School I know I have succeeded at being a “book smart” student. But as I go to apply for college and for the Free Application For Student Aid, I realize I have not been so successful at learning how to live in the world. I have applied for college and have been accepted, but what is my next move? What do I do when I get there? How do I even get there whether that is money or even transportation? Do I even know how to get around? How do I fill out taxes? How do I do anything besides schoolwork?
    School has become my life for 13 years, and it's as if I have been brainwashed to do nothing else. School is all about learn this and do this math equation, but where are the practical lessons we should learn? In class you follow what a teacher tells you to, you sit quiet and answer questions when called upon. But in life there will be a time when you have to come up with something without instruction, when you have to speak up, and when you need to do the opposite of what you are told. Have I been prepared to leave this school in less than three months and succeed at whatever I want to do? Do I even know at all what I am supposed to do? I feel like a lost puppy drifting through the sands of time, not really knowing what to expect when I leave here. So I pose the question for many of us “Am I in over my head?”

“These butterflies just won’t go away! Come on Mariah you can do this; you've said these words a million times! Oh man the lights just went off! Get ready! Don't fall over, these shoes hurt. Lord please don't let me mess up! Oh man, you have forgotten to breathe, BREATHE! I can't speak”... “By my troth Sir Toby… you must come in earlier o' nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.” The words came spilling out of my mouth, like word vomit. I could not control what came out; luckily they were the right words.

My freshman year I decided challenge myself by taking drama. Ever since I was little I had sat in the bleachers and loved the productions that the drama class would put on. I always wanted to try it out. Little did I know that it would be so much hard work, but so much fun. Blocking, or figuring out where you are going to move and when, has got to be the best part of preparing for a play. I remember Adrina wearing a fat suit that she could hardly move in. Not knowing this, I tried to help her off the floor like normal, to our surprise I ended up dragging her across the floor.

December 2008 seems like a long time ago, but I remember it so well as the week of Mr.Voley's class performance of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. Havoc ran amuck! The sound had failed the night of dress rehearsal, costume pieces were missing, and finals needed to be taken. Backstage was like a menagerie at a circus, people running everywhere. Over there you had mustaches being glued on, over here you had the sound being fixed, and over there is where you went to take you finals. Not to mention that while the clothes were being ironed, the iron melted the carpet. Everything was falling apart.

We had not worked four and a half months through blood, sweat, and tears for nothing. The old saying “the show must go on” was completely relevant here. The show had to go on. After everything had finished falling apart, a wonderful performance blossomed. Never had I thought that our drama class could pull together and actually make it through a scene without messing up or talking. But the performance was wonderful, the sound worked, costumes were right, and scene changes were prompt.

To the younger generations at Kenny Lake School, you should be begging Mr. Voley to teach you drama. Not only is he a great drama teacher, but he lets you stand on your chair and say your lines with emotion, and if you’re lucky he might just teach you to play with swords. Thank you Mr.Voley.