“Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock ... Summer, summer, summer ...”
In High School Musical 2, the students dance and sing out of excitement when they hear the last school bell ring before their summer break. The beginning of this scene starts with a shot of the clock ticking until the last school bell rings. This part of the scene, although seemingly unserious, has always been powerful to me. It made me realize how grasping the concept of time has played such a significant role in the memories and experiences I made in my life. These memories and experiences carried the feelings and emotions that the clock of my life created:

Comfort. One of the first memories I can recall from my early childhood was from New Year’s Eve, watching the Times Square Ball drop on TV with my family. I remember looking outside the balcony of my old house and watching my neighbor’s holiday lights shimmer from a distance. The snow-covered trees on my street were rustling, and there I could hear fireworks. Our kitchen smelled of the chocolate chip cookies that my family and I baked while wearing our cozy holiday onesies. The digital clock underneath our old TV set showed the time in big blue numbers. I remember looking at that clock—ten minutes to 12:00—and feeling so grown up as I stayed up way past my bedtime. I felt closer to my family as I spent time with them during the night time—this brought me comfort. When the clock finally hit midnight, my family cheered and made toasts as the sounds of the fireworks outside grew louder. I remember the strong sense of comfort that day. I was surrounded by my loved ones on one of my favorite holidays. I felt so at home.

Excitement. My kindergarten classroom was one of my favorite places as a child. It was a large classroom with a playroom full of toys, a reading area with tall bookshelves, colorful desks with matching colored chairs, and a fluffy white carpet covering most of the floor. There was also a small clock with a pink frame above the whiteboard. At that age, I wasn’t used to reading the clock so I’d always rely on my teacher to notify me when the next activity would start. Every time my teacher would look at the clock, I would feel a rush of excitement. When the clock struck 10:00 a.m., my teacher would look at it and announce that it was playtime. When the clock struck 12:00 p.m., my teacher would look at it and announce that it was lunchtime. When the clock struck 1:00 p.m., my teacher would look at it and announce that it was time for recess. That clock brought me so much excitement because I knew that every time it hit a new hour, I would get to enjoy a fun activity. I felt sensations in my stomach, feeling so excited, every time a new friend played with me during playtime. I felt the pace of my walking increase when heading to the lunch line excited to eat some of my favorite food of the day. I felt the nice breeze dry my skin while I played outside with my friends during recess. That small pink framed clock brought me so much excitement.

Sadness. Every summer during my middle childhood, I visited my grandparents and the rest of my dad’s side of the family in San Francisco. California is my second home and having to leave it takes a toll on me. Every visit to California, no matter how long it was, always seemed to go by so fast. Some of my favorite memories were made in California. I loved waking up to watch the sunrise outside my grandparents’ front yard. As a child, the park near my grandparents’ house was my favorite place to go to in California because it had many playgrounds, a huge field of grass, and a small dog park. I especially enjoyed the warm weather and being able to swim every day at the local pool. I remember one night after coming back from the pool, my grandparents taught me how to read Roman numerals from a huge Roman numeral clock that hung above a cabinet in their dining room. As a child, I never grasped how important time was and how every second counted until I had to leave California after visiting one summer. At one moment, I was in my grandparents’ dining room watching the hour hand on the clock strike the Roman numeral V; the next thing I knew, I was watching the airport clock with the boring numbers strike 5:00 p.m. as I was waiting on the TSA line sadly waving goodbye to my family. I was leaving my family and my second home. Seeing them once a year made the goodbye even harder.

Happiness. When I first started high school, I lived far from my school, so my commute was over an hour long. Although this sounds draining, I looked forward to the hour-long bus ride. I never listened to music as much as I did in the beginning years of high school. I have these long commutes to thank that for. One evening, I remember leaving a long volleyball practice after school in a bad mood. Once I got on the bus, I put my headphones on and looked at my watch which read 6:00 p.m. I had an hour-long bus ride ahead of me. This meant that I could listen to about fifteen songs which immediately shifted my mood. At 6:00 p.m., I started to listen to Adele’s “Set Fire to the Rain” while watching the bus window fog up as it began to rain. I looked at my watch again at around 6:25 p.m. and had already listened to five different artists whose songs made me feel serotonin all in different ways through their different but enjoyable lyrics, rhythm, and beats. After listening to more songs, I looked at my watch, surprised, as it read 7:00 p.m. The bus ride went by so fast because I was listening to music the whole time. Having this time to myself brought me so much happiness because I had the time to choose what songs I wanted to listen to, therefore choosing the mood and setting that music shifted me to. With my watch, I was able to track these “moods” and “settings” and was able to almost “control” the time within my bus trip based on how long the songs were.

Adrenaline. “Curtains open in one!” Every time I heard my high school theater director say that I would look at the clock and immediately a rush of adrenaline. The clock covered in paint splatter from the art backstage read 7:59 p.m. It was a minute before the curtains opened. My director’s words didn’t feel real until I looked at the clock. The moment before the curtains open on opening night feels the most nerve-wracking, but thrilling at the same time. My heart would always beat so fast because of the adrenaline. Theater is one of my greatest passions and being a part of the theater productions at my high school has been one of my favorite experiences. The traditions that my cast and I would keep also hold a great connection to time: one or two days before the opening day we would share the speeches we wrote for each other. I would always feel shaky before giving my speech because it was hard for me to say how I felt to such a large group of people. Thirty minutes before call time, we took pictures and videos of the whole cast in our costumes. Five minutes before call time, we shake our hands and legs as a good luck ritual. Then, we go out for a cast dinner after our show ends at around 9:00 p.m., feeling the same bump in heart rate as I did before the show. The adrenaline rush that theater brings me is one of my favorite things about it. It occupies me throughout the entire night.

Pride. Similar to how the students were counting down the time until summer break in High School Musical 2, I was counting down the time until my last bell of high school rang. I remember sitting with my friends in my final class staring at the clock. This clock hung above a whiteboard in the same spot as the clock in my kindergarten classroom. This small coincidence symbolizes how much I have grown throughout the years and represents how I will always be connected to the clock. Although the sounds of the school bell annoyed me at times throughout high school, hearing this last bell ring brought me no complaints. Growing up watching the High School Musical movie series prepared me for a moment that I didn’t think would come so soon. In the third and final High School Musical movie, the students graduate high school. As a child, watching the scene where they graduate made me dream of the day I would walk across the stage. When I finally did, I had never felt prouder of myself. Getting through the many obstacles that life threw at me during high school was a huge accomplishment. I achieved many goals throughout high school and grew in so many ways. The night before my first day of college, I was planning my outfit, preparing my backpack, and getting ready to go to bed. I couldn’t believe that time flew by that fast. I am officially an adult. As a child, college felt like a whole lifetime away. I looked at the clock on my nightstand and it read 12:00 a.m. I no longer have a set bedtime. I no longer “feel” grown up, I am grown up. I felt a sense of pride before I fell asleep. My childhood self would be very proud of all the things I have accomplished.

All these feelings and emotions, I felt through the experiences and memories I made from reading a clock have made me into the person I am today. All the things that are or have been a part of my life make me the unique individual that I am. The clock has written a story for me that has not been written for anyone else. Through every part of that story, I have grown, learned, and persevered. Although I have changed throughout my stages of life, the feelings and emotions that I gained as I grasped the concept of time will always remain. As Van Leeuwen claims, “...something can be called ‘authentic’ because it is thought to be true to the essence of something, to a revealed truth, a deep sentiment, or the way these are worded or otherwise expressed” (Van Leeuwen 2001, 393). The clock brings out my genuine truth. It has made me be unapologetically myself. The clock connects me to my most authentic self—it will keep on ticking and I will keep on growing.