In a devastating blow to senior culture, autonomy and the American teenage spirit, senior skip day at Staples High School has officially been overscheduled out of existence.
For decades, we seniors have honored the sacred tradition of skipping school for one day each semester, united in the time-honored act of coordinated truancy and asserting our senior aristocracy with a ritualistic mass absence. Skip day is not just a day off; it’s a statement, a protest, a collective shrug at institutional authority.
However, this year, Staples Superfans attempted to expand this historical tradition into a multi-day festival, announcing three skip days within a little over a single semester. As a result, my brethren and I have begun to do something unthinkable: go to school.
The most recent incident followed what many described as one of the greatest fortunes Staples has ever received: a half day Friday, a snow day Monday and a delay Tuesday. Never in my life have I seen such a lethal combo of blessings; some might even regard it as a federally declared miracle.
In a bold assertion of power and authority, Superfans declared on their Instagram that Tuesday would be a skip day, creating a four-and-a-half day weekend and a brief illusion of anarchy.
Seniors responded by setting their alarms. Mine, 8:45 a.m. sharp.
At this point in time, I felt that senior skip day was less of an exertion of my authority and more like a showing of my unemployment. There is an unspoken rule in the universe: when given a half day, a snow day and a delay, you do not push your luck. To skip on top of that would be to invite cosmic retribution in the form of a pop quiz, a Schoology post or a Google Classroom assignment at 11:59 p.m.
And so, that Tuesday, none of my classes were missing a single senior. After further investigation, I’ve identified a new condition I’m calling “Skip Day Fatigue Syndrome” (SDFS), where students grow so exhausted from skipping school that they start longing for bell schedules and fluorescent lights. Symptoms include: voluntarily entering the building, making eye contact with teachers and not skipping their unit quizzes.
Despite this large turnout, Assistant Principal Christine Cincotta released a heartfelt letter later that day on Jan. 27 reminding seniors that attendance is, shockingly, still required.
“We do not condone senior skip days,” she wrote, in what historians will remember as the most polite crackdown in Staples history. She also noted that “the building is a little brighter when you walk through the door,” a claim later verified by the automated lighting system.
With the amount of senior skip days that have happened so far this year, I’ve heard my teachers and classmates considering the possibilities of a Senior Skip Week, Senior Skip Month and Senior Skip Year, though to that I have already RSVP’d “I have a lab.”
