All I want for Christmas is... extra credit

Last year, I experienced what many may call a “Christmas miracle.” As someone with a rocky track record of responsibility for my belongings, I agree with those miracle believers. From third grade to present, I have misplaced four retainers and two cell phones. Thus, one can imagine the horror I faced when I realized my current phone disappeared from the pocket of my ski coat somewhere along my twists and turns down a trail of Holiday Valley. Frantically, I urged Anna McCuaig and Mairin Magnuson to help me in what I thought was a helpless rescue of my little black Samsung. As they followed in discontent, I attempted to identify which amateur ski tracks belonged to me. Long story short, I thought I failed. So, naturally, I fell to the ground at the thought of trying to convince my parents someone had “stolen my phone from my pocket.” I began to shovel in the snow with my arms without purpose, like I’d seen on TV. And miraculously, below the surface of the random location I chose to dig, the screen of my phone lit up. My previous luck fostered the notion that I would never again receive a Christmas Miracle. But, I stand corrected. This year, my miracle represents one of hope… three possibilities for extra credit in AP English. Come winter, I possess a lack of motivation to do just about anything besides Christmas-themed tasks. My ambitions include pinpointing the perfect gifts for my family and friends, baking superfluous amounts of desserts for each of my four “secret santas,” and listening to the “Love Actually” soundtrack until I become physically sick of the repetitive love anthems. However, as my holiday enthusiasm snowballs day by day, my academic promise wanes. My Infinite Campus epitomizes the sickness traditionally given to those seniors who have temporarily (or in some cases, permanently) misplaced their sense of commitment. For me, Senioritis commences upon returning from Thanksgiving break and lasts for a dreadful twenty days until winter break. The worst part remains that those twenty days begin only four days into the advent calendar, prolonging my Christmas yearning. The unfortunate display of work ethic I have showcased these past few weeks do, in fact, have a silver lining: a Christmas miracle in the form of multiple potential extra credit opportunities. So thank you, Ms. Serensky, for re-instating my hope in attending those colleges who require my first semester grades, much like Santa used to fulfill my Christmas wishes. However, unlike Santa, who I lost all faith in when I didn’t find a Felicity American Girl doll under my Christmas tree in 2002 (I expected that the elves would pull through for me despite the fact that these dolls remained discontinued for the past two years) Ms. Serensky remains. She offered us three opportunities for extra credit, which any sane AP student considers the Holy Grail. First, students competed through our artistic abilities in attempt to create collages of characters in The Great Gatsby. Next, students will compete for a spot in the master data sheet with their writing partner. And lastly, students will take the AP multiple-choice test that looms at the end of each quarter. Whether or not Ms. Serensky actually rewards me with those coveted extra credit points, I remain thankful for the possibility of improving. The incentive provides me with hope of success on the one day of the year where hope can triumph all else.

Crying tears of joy after miraculously finding my misplaced phone.