Brown Bananas
By: Karissa Edmunds
Tags: Pandemic, Time, Metaphor, High School

Every Sunday, my mother takes time out of her busy schedule to go grocery shopping for my entire family. Yet every Sunday, like clockwork, my mother buys far more bananas than we could possibly ever need. Accustomed to buying enough food for a family of six, she has yet to adjust to only feeding a smaller family of four, after two of my siblings moved out. Every morning, as I walk downstairs to gather my belongings for school, I notice this weeks’ bananas getting more and more ripe. From Sunday to Saturday, in the blink of an eye, they transition from a pristine yellow to a dreadful brown. Every Saturday, I marvel at how quickly the bananas lived out their brief life span on my kitchen counter.

As my fellow seniors and I near the end of the first quarter, I realize how fast our time in high school is coming to an end. Like green, unripe bananas arriving on the kitchen counter every Sunday, we drove through the gates in freshman year alongside our parents, not yet privy to the adventures and experiences that awaited us in our upcoming four years. Unaware of the limited time we had at our favorite place, we took Sundays for granted, much like we always do, knowing we had the rest of the week to make the most of our experience.

Come sophomore year, we began to ripen, more aware of the inner workings of high school and more aware of how to manage our precious time. We grew comfortable, basking in the familiarity and opportunity that Monday and Tuesday always offer. And much like Monday and Tuesday, the time flew by rather quickly. We breezed through our second round of school traditions and end of the year celebrations, knowing we still had more time to accomplish all we set out to do.

Beginning junior year, we embraced the mentality of being an “upperclassmen,” more yellowed and worn by time than ever before. Wednesday and Thursday, as always, bring the knowledge that the week is soon to come to a close. Stressed to complete all the work we were assigned and earn the highest grades we could, the year flew by. Similarly, junior year reminded us of the impending end of high school and consequently, our careers at our favorite place.

Finally, we as a class have reached senior year; Friday. So often Friday is romanticized and sought after, the excitement of the weekend to come creating mystical anticipation. However, we cannot ignore the browning and ripening of our high school experience. Each tradition is our last, flooding us with emotion and perhaps a sense of resentment at the less-than-optimal circumstances of the time.

In these conditions, I feel compelled to remind my fellow seniors of the opportunity of Saturday. Following every Friday is a Saturday, the day that I take the old, brown bananas from the previous week and turn them into banana bread. Like Saturday and the opportunity that I get each week to make a delicious loaf of bread, college is the exciting experience that lays beyond our time within the beloved walls of our school. We have grown comfortable within these halls, the acceptance and love of our community giving us a warm feeling as we drive through the gates each morning. While our last year may not be ideal, we must embrace the memories and lessons of Friday with open arms to prepare ourselves for the opportunities that lie beyond the gates, lest we forget about the promise of Saturday.