What Goes Up, Must Come DownMonday, March 12, 2012 By Maria McDonald
So you’ve broken a leg, twisted an ankle, been placed in a wheelchair, or have done something to hinder your walking abilities. Thus, your biggest fear becomes...(cue dramatic music)...the school stairs. How are you supposed to climb the two-flighted mountain that leads to your upstairs classes? Better yet, how are you supposed to do that two or three times a day? The answer is, clearly, the wonderful and magical school elevator. From personal experience, I know how exciting the prospect of the elevator can be. Having never broken any lower limb bones, there had never been any reason for me to receive the powerful elevator key. I had never even ridden the elevator to help a friend with an ailment. Therefore, you can imagine the ecstasy I felt when I fractured my ankle. Not. Ecstasy was definitely not the feeling I was experiencing the moment I tripped over a field hockey stick in a game. But, hours later, I did remember that my loathsome crutches would hold the pass to the elevator key. It was a little day-brightener to an otherwise nightmare-ish day. On Monday, I signed out my very own elevator key for the day and went to go practice using the magical transporter. I twisted the key, waited a few seconds, and the green arrow lit up. The doors slid open, revealing the inside of the oh-so-wonderful elevator. It was a box. When I say box, I don’t mean a nicely decorated square, I mean a box. A plain, brown, on-the-small-side box. Comfortably fitting two students (one with crutches), the elevator functioned properly and was clean, but still a box. I’m not sure what I expected, or why I would expect something different than a plain elevator, but it definitely was a shock, and not magical at all. I think I expected the elevator to be painted a nice shade of Spartan blue, with some Christmas lights hung up, and soothing music playing in the background. What made me think that? I couldn’t tell you. Perhaps I thought that it would be the school’s way of cheering up us injured students, but that was delusional. It was just a box. So for those of you who are intrigued by the prospect of our school elevator, the students who beg us injured kids to carry our books just to see what the elevator is like, don’t get your hopes up. In case I didn’t get the point across, it is, really and truly, just a box. But hey, it does the job!