Spring break, which lies somewhere between mid-March to early April for most Los Angeles teens, is a time normally known for relaxing. But for most juniors, and even some sophomores, this is never the case. I’m currently writing from Brentwood… Tennessee (yes, there is another Brentwood!), where my family and I will visit the very last college on this 11-day long journey that was jokingly dubbed by my brother, the “Bellapalooza.†We’ve traversed most of the Atlantic coast, visiting every state from Massachusetts to Tennessee, all by car.
Mid-route, we decided that after visiting two colleges a day, we deserved a little down time. And what’s the most perfect way to spend that free time? Perhaps some shopping, sightseeing, or just lounging around your hotel? No, that’s what normal people would do. My family went to a
NASCAR race… because honestly, what else sounds more leisurely? Clearly, my parents were really into getting the whole “Southern experience.â€
As it turns out, I loved the race, probably because I was under the false impression that racers only had to complete 50 laps, which seemed like nothing. So there I was, jumping up and down on the 49th lap, cheering as loud as I could for the drivers to finish. It wasn’t until one shirtless, sunburned, tattooed, race fan actually yelled at me to sit down when I learned that the race consisted of 500 laps, not 50 (in other words, three hours).
We watched people unroll carpets in front of their RVs, in order to set up barbeques, flags, and plastic chairs. These people arrived days before the race even started, traveling from all parts of the country to support the drivers they admired. It struck me that their journeys were not so different from mine, as we were all explorers heading toward unknown results.
One of our pit stops was our Nation’s great capital, and from the Washington Monument to the White House itself, there was a profusion of cherry blossoms, which made one proud to be visiting the seat of Western power. Other people, who were also not sitting poolside in the Caribbean, were fellow students from Archer, troops of sophomores from Marlborough, juniors from Brentwood, Crossroads, Windward, and so on. Most daunting, of course, were the college information sessions, where most of us felt the smack of instant inadequacy for not having perfect SAT scores, gathered any Nobel Prize trophies, or even stuck with those tuba lessons since seventh grade. Oh well, there’s always the Peace Corps to consider!
My friends and I agreed that even though our Spring break was spent exploring our future educational possibilities, we were all really grateful for the time we got to spend with our families – with whom we got along with at least 65% of the time. 2,500 miles later, I was sad to see our odyssey end, because I knew it was time to hit the books again to become worthy of the fine establishments we visited.
Thanks to all the Moms, Dads, and siblings out there, who put up with all the “hotels, motels, and Holiday-Inns,†in order to bring our college counselors’ advice to life.
