Composition 1 - Week 3, Observing a Scene Essay

In the Career center at Warroad High School, in which I sit for four hours each school day partaking in PSEO classes, I witness a wide variety of people, events and conversations. I sit in the large, comfortable chair, lined up against the wall with a few others. My fingers scan the keys on my laptop, the sound similar to rain falling from the sky in smooth, light streaks. I sip my coffee slowly, savoring each drop and dwelling on the aroma of freshly-ground coffee beans that sting my nose with each sniff.
To the front of me, there are two rooms – one with a man and the other with a woman. Both have similar jobs, to counsel and simply help students in need. The man, although actively engaged with each student that enters his welcoming room, is not quite as fast-paced and busy as the woman. Observing facial expressions, I see that the woman has a large load on her mind. It’s as if she can’t decide what to do next because there are so many things to be done. The man seems fairly calm and sure of where he is currently at in his day-to-day plans. As the woman bustles around from one location to another, I smell her perfume as it whizzes through the air with each fast-paced step. It’s a light, yet bold perfume with a hint of spice. I hear the file cabinet that is pushed up against the wall to the right of me continually opening and closing as she searches for files that hold some importance to her at that moment.
In the man’s room, I hear the telephone ringing constantly. His loud, yet comforting voice fills the room when he answers the call. Once he is finished with his call, he sets back to work on the computer. While doing his work, I hear him talking to himself. Each sentence ends unfinished, making you dwell on its meaning, wondering what sort of work he could be engaged in.
Looking behind where I sit, windows line the walls, peering out over the hallways of Warroad High School. Each student looks somewhat determined and in a hurry to get to a certain place at a certain time. The hallways are filled with all sorts of emotions. One girl is angry because she is struggling to open her locker. She repeatedly attempts her combination and checks the clock, obviously hoping that time will stand still so she is not late for class. Another boy, across the hall from the girl, doesn’t seem to bother himself with the time in which he arrives at his next class. His mind seems to be set on the girl down the hallway, in the pink t-shirt and white skirt that falls just above her knees. Her blonde, shiny hair falls halfway down her back and her thick mascara draws much attention to her fiercely blue eyes.
The walls are not quite sound-proof enough, for I can hear bits and pieces of the conversation between two girls that are standing together, just outside the window. Simply by hearing some of their conversation, I can imagine the smell of their expensive perfume on their brand-name clothes. One girl is talking slightly more than the other and the word, “like” seems to be the only one in her vocabulary. The other girl, of approximately five feet, four inches, is listening, just not intently, while blowing bubbles with her gum. Her eyes tend to dart here and there while her friend continues to talk. Using stereotypical judgment, I predict the conversation to be something on the lines of clueless, insensitive guys and the most recent drama on campus.
Then, the bell rings and everyone who had been oblivious of the time runs to class. The door to the career center, in which I am indulged in my Anatomy and Physiology text book, opens and a young man, approximately seventeen years old, steps in. He drags his feet and sits in the seat next to me. He smells as if he has spent most of the day in a work shop of some sort. My first guess being that he is in Welding class. His fingernails are slightly coated with dirt underneath the tips and his skin still holds the glow from the summer sun. The boy seems to be here for no particular reason, possibly trying to avoid a strongly disliked class. He sighs loudly, rests his head on the back of the chair and delivers the feeling of complete boredom into the room.
The environment in which I have become accustomed, is filled with many different people, each with a different dominant emotion. Each emotion is released in the setting, mixing and churning together to create an atmosphere of randomized thoughts and feelings.
I lay my head back, take a deep breath and smile, placing my Anatomy and Physiology textbook back in its correct place, at home in my backpack. I push the small, round headphones that are attached to my Ipod into my ears, play some quiet, calming music and carefully take out my Composition book from my backpack. This is where I feel at home and acquainted with my surroundings. This is the place where motivation strikes me. This is the Warroad High School career center, a truly interesting place where I feel strangely comfortable.