I’m a sophomore in high school and it’s that time in the semester when we need to sign up for next year’s classes. The two guidance counselors talk to us about the process and what classes we’ll need to sign up for online sometime during the coming weeks, especially considering what career path we want to follow. One of the counselors mentions that if a student wants to go into a scientific field, they’ll need to take an Advanced Chemistry class instead of the normal class. I want to go into psychology, but since it’s a health science, I’m not sure if it fits my school’s definition of a science field and resolve to ask my assigned counselor later, since I’m too shy to ask in front of my entire class.
This turns out to be a mistake.
I first try to see if I can catch the counselor during at the start of the lunch period, but she’s nowhere to be found. Oh well, I figure, and go eat my lunch.
The next morning I email her and set up an appointment at the end of the day, which she agrees to. Later I try to catch her directly after school—barely five minutes after the final bell. I catch her on her way out of her office. She apologizes and says that her schedule changes suddenly and she has somewhere to be before running off. She’s a very sweet lady and I know she’s not purposely trying to blow me off or be unhelpful, so I assure her that it’s all right and go out front to wait for my ride, a little dismayed that I couldn’t get my question answered for a second time, but understanding.
I try again two days later. The teacher is absent and the sub is letting us have a study period, so I ask to go to the counselor’s office. I am given the okay and am sure that nothing can stop me from getting my question answered, since it’s mid-morning during class and the counselors have to be here all day.
When I am less than ten feet from the office door, another student darts in and rushes into the guidance office before I can. I briefly consider saying something, but stop when I catch a glimpse of the other student’s face and realize that she’s crying.
I wait outside the office for the other girl to come out. I’m not too concerned about time, since we’re only about a quarter of the way through the class period, so I occupy myself with schoolwork. After twenty minutes I get bored and antsy, so I decide to head back to class and try again later.
The next time I attempt to ask, the counselor is already meeting with someone else. I’m a little frustrated by the sheer number of times I’ve tried to get this question answered even though every delay has been for a perfectly valid reason.
I wait outside the office for a while until the other counselor pokes his head out of his own office and asks if I need something. I tell him that I’m not sure which science class to sign up for, but I haven’t been able to talk to my counselor yet.
He ends up bringing me into his office, even though I’m not one of his assigned students, and listens to my question. He tells me that I’ll be able to take the normal chemistry course instead of the advanced course. The entire conversation takes about thirty seconds.
Persistence is key, I guess.
