On Monday I find myself packed in—”for participation”— a lecture hall of brightly colored students. On one side of me, a Kadel paper is writing itself; on the other, the fateful battle of Candy Crush vs. IMSA Student ensues to a chorus of “Merry Rishmas!” The girl sitting in front of me has her hair braided into a million rainbows. I idly wonder if I can sneak out of another door.
Tuesday night, I join in the merry-making: the cheers and the standing ovations. On Wednesday, I’m shaking on the stage because, this time, the cheering is for me. By Thursday night, every thought I have is red, and my screams mingle with the electrifying cacophony that is Clash of the Halls. The exhilaration may pass, but these insane memories will be sticking around for awhile.
Criticizing Clash is not difficult. Yes, it is overly competitive and resource-intensive. I won’t deny that there is peer pressure accompanied by an all-consuming mob mentality. However, Clash does something incredible for IMSA students that easily outweighs these consequences. Clash brings IMSA students back to life.
For a few days, we can assume new identities, representing our halls and becoming something that we are all proud of. We are given a new sense of direction by the well-crafted Clash programs, and waking up isn’t shabby at all when it’s the morning of pep rally. And when everyone is cheering and screaming and jumping, it seems as if we are normal teenagers again. Kudos to Student Council and all of the halls—I don’t ever want to grow out my colored tips or stop wearing red or have my voice back, because Clash will easily be one of the best experiences of my journey through IMSA. Because of Clash, it’s good to be a Titan.