By Esther Zuckerman

Two weekends ago I had my last IEL show. Okay, most of you probably don’t know what IEL is. It’s the “Interscholastic Equestrian League” which runs the competitions that the school equestrian team competes in. It is commonly known as IE-hell and the shows consist of getting up at ungodly hours to go spend an entire day at a dusty show. In other words they can be tedious and tiresome and not that much fun.

Still, when I got to the show I found myself doing something I feel like I’ve been doing a lot lately. Worrying. Over the past three years I’ve never really cared about doing well at IEL or at any horse show recently for that matter. And yet at this show something was different. It was my last show. I had to do well.

The last IEL was my first “last.” The first thing that was significant in my high school career that came to an end. And the emotions I felt going into that last show have been plaguing me. I’m worried about doing well on essays and tests because they are my last high school essays. I’m worried about going to and having fun at events (Fashion for Action, the Film Festival) because these are my last high school events. I desperately want to make my last days at high school good because I have this eerie feeling that even though I will be technically “done” in three months I am leaving this school and my high school career virtually unfinished.

Take prom for instance. I haven’t gone to semiformal for the last two years and while I like getting dressed up, I feel virtually apathetic towards the whole concept of boy asks girl, boy and girl organize limo, boy and girl get drunk and hookup at after party. But prom. Prom is a big deal to me. Prom has to be done right. I have to find a limo.

And for God’s sake I have to have some frickin’ fun. Seriously, I already have the dress because that validates the fact that I will actually be going. (It’s 1940s vintage, just in case you were wondering.) And it is because it is the last time I will ever be in this situation. It’s like that Joni Mitchell song that says, “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone,” and I’m not talking about the degradation of our environment or something relatively important like she was. I’m talking about high school.
It’s not that I’m necessarily going to miss it when I’m gone. High school, frankly, can suck. But now that it’s starting to be “over,” I’m starting to get worried about what I might be missing.
And now to my inevitable moral conclusion. A few months of good fun is not going to change what I’ve made of my time at this school. Sure I can try really hard, but I may just end up ruining it by worrying.