Emma Philbrook: STUDENT LIFE

It’s human nature to want to leave a legacy of some sort after spending any extended period of time in a given place.

For example, after bidding adieu to my beloved Knowledge Bowl in March, I did so knowing that my team and I were responsible for two new additions to the state rules – the one about the audience keeping well away from the teams (aka the Onion Breath Amendment of 2014), and the one that says that if the question asks for a last name, a first name is offered, and the first name is incorrect even if the last name turns out to be right, you still get the question wrong. (David Livingstone? David? What kind of a name is Dav – oh, hi, Dad! Didn’t see you there!)

My legacy at Waitsburg High School, however, will probably be somewhat less tangible. Apart from the ten-foot statue slated for construction in 2025, there will be few lasting hallmarks of my time there. Twenty years from now, the name “Emma Philbrook” will mean nothing to the general student body at WHS.

So, given the chance to have something hanging in the hall with my name on it, I would naturally want this something to be as high-quality as possible.

Enter the senior composites.

These are basically pictures of all the seniors arranged in a big frame with “Class of 2015” (or whatever the case may be) on top and a name written underneath each picture. Composites of years past hang all over the school – one over the drinking fountain, a row of consecutive years along the back wall of the auditorium, more in the upper hallways. Everyone winds up looking at them, pointing out relatives, friends, teachers, and the one senior who invariably has a crazy hairdo on picture day.

Come to think of it, that last classification is probably how future generations will remember Emma Philbrook – “Dude, what is up with that hair?” ”Dunno, man. Maybe it’s alive or something. Hey, is she that one mad scientist who got herself blown up last year?” “Naw, that chick was in my dad’s class.”

So now I’m scouring my closet for something nice to wear. There’s my vintage Knowledge Bowl t-shirt…my more current Knowledge Bowl t-shirts…my Girls State t-shirt…my other Girls State t-shirt that I shredded and wore as a zombie costume…

What? We’re not allowed to wear t-shirts for senior composites?

Grrr…

What does that leave me with? Let’s see: A chicken suit, a frilly blue ball gown, my collection of funky sweater dresses, shrink-wrap-esque blouses from my fair court days, and the shoulder-padded 80s-era bridesmaid outfit my mom loaned me.

I think I’ll go with a funky sweater dress. Maybe it’ll make my hair seem less conspicuous.

Speaking of which, what should I do with my hair? I’m thinking a braid; otherwise people may not recognize me. Leaving it down is probably just asking for some tangled horror, and I’m not sure I trust myself to curl it. Braid it is, then.

As for shoes – well, the picture’s only from the waist up.

In that case, I’ll wear the legs from the chicken suit. Comfort meets utility meets impeccable taste – and the photographer, at least, will remember me for years to come.