And here’s what we did the past 24 hours. We did what we loved, and stopped what we hated.
Dr Benjamin Lee
The morning of November 5 begun in downpour. Sheets of rain assaulted students who The morning of November 5 began in a downpour. Sheets of rain assaulted students who braved the elements––some barefoot, some in flip-flops, and some unabashedly in soaked sports shoes––as they walked around the track. One lap meant one popsicle stick given to them by an NHS member, who huddled inside whatever sweatshirt they wore, which meant one more point for their Relay for Life team. In certain classrooms, duffel bags piled on top of each other and signified all the worldly possessions that would sustain one team for one night. They were full, with everything from sleeping bags, to decks of cards, to extra socks and sweatshirts. As soon as the bell rang in the afternoon signalling the end of classes, hordes of students made their way onto the tracks despite the wind and the rain. “Dancing Queen” by ABBA started playing on the field speakers, and the baskets began filling up with popsicle sticks. Later, boosters run by the PTSA stacked instant noodles one atop the other, and the smell of grilling burger patties filled the air. Students returned from the track, each one more soaked than the next, and were soon sat near tables with cups of steaming noodles in front of their faces.
In the evenings, students improvised an indoor track. Cones spanned the inside of the HS big gym and lined the underclassmen Flex area, and NHS students––looking drier than when they were outside––handed out popsicle sticks by one door of the big gym. Some students jogged the laps, while others walked with their friends––some all throughout the night. While the big gym had cones, music playing, and rogue basketball and volleyballs to play with, the side gym was reserved for girls to lay down their sleeping bags, blankets, and bean bags, while boys set up camp in the mat room downstairs. Sometime in the night, a game of musical chairs commenced, emceed by one of the NHS students. However, a ring of bean bags substituted chairs, which made for added comedic value, students diving into the bags as soon as the music stopped. An hour before midnight, the Luminaria ceremony commenced. NHS students dispersed brown paper bags with LED candle lights across the big gym, the lights were shut off, and as students slowly walked a lap around the lights, three students sang “Amazing Grace” at the centre of the gym. Although some of the designs on the bags were hard to discern, given the flicker of the LED light within and the darkness of the gym, the Sharpied word on one bag stood out. It spelled out “Hope.”
When the wind and rain picked up in the late afternoon, and again when students were either delirious with sleepiness or excited from the mystery of the school at nighttime, parts of the ABBA discography or the bounce of a basketball always accompanied them. One way or another, an upbeat rhythm urged students to keep going. During Luminaria, with the MSG of the instant noodles and the adrenaline of diving for beanbags simmering lower in their bloodstreams, the students made their way around the big gym guided by the slower tempo of “Amazing Grace” and brown paper bags flickering with light.
Several hours after midnight, most students were asleep. At 6 in the morning, Ms. Dickhaut flipped all the lights on in the side gym where the girls slept and told them to start packing their things. After the initial grogginess, accompanied by a reluctance to leave a sleeping bag finally made warm, the girls were up and helping each other stuff their sleeping bags into the tarp sacks that they came in. Heavy feet made their way downstairs, where tables of juice, coffee, bagels, and cream cheese awaited all the students alike. Most students crashed into their beds for a second bout of sleep as soon as they got home.
They saw blue skies when they woke up.