This previously ran in our April 2024 issue.
When I first heard there was going to be a solar eclipse, I was — like most people — pretty excited. It’s not exactly a common occurrence, especially for Emmaus to be so close to the line of totality. I didn’t fully understand why or how it was happening, but I was glad I was getting the opportunity to experience it.
In my last period English class especially, everyone was talking about how crazy this eclipse was going to be. For the people who didn’t have the special glasses on them, including myself, there was this kind of fear that if you looked up for one second, you would just instantly go blind. This made walking out of school just a little more terrifying, thinking that I could actually harm myself just by looking up.
The bell rang, and I finally got to the doors to leave the school, expecting some degree of a difference in the sky or how light it was out, but there was nothing. It was cloudy out but still, there was no difference at all. If you would have told me the eclipse never happened, I would have believed you.
I expected that, for at least a small period of time, the world around me would go dark, and for it to look like nighttime.
But that’s not even close to what happened.
For the rest of the day I sat at work, looking out the window waiting for something cool to happen, but still nothing.
And it may be that my own wild expectations led to my main disappointment, but I can’t necessarily put the blame completely on myself. Everyone, including students and teachers, were hyping this eclipse up like it was going to be the most ludacris event of 2024. You couldn’t enter a class without both students and teachers talking about it, and how crazy it is going to be. During last block some classes even live-streamed the eclipse, just so everyone could see.
At first, I thought it was pretty strange when I found out people were driving all the way to New York to see the eclipse, especially when they called off work or skipped school, but now I understand. Here we saw the equivalent of jack-all. If I knew that, I may have considered taking the trek to the line of totality.
Again, you could blame that on my lack of knowledge on what an eclipse really means, but the lies and hype that were spread around the school made it seem like it was going to be way bigger than it actually was.
I think in the end, the idea of missing such a once-in-a-lifetime event was the most hurtful part of it. It technically isn’t “once in a lifetime,” but it may be numerous decades before another solar eclipse passes through this area. Whenever that ends up happening I’ll be sure to either make the trek to the line of totality, or prepare myself for the disappointment.
The only people that really got the true eclipse experience were those in the actual line of totality with their special glasses. The rest of us got served an underwhelming plate of cloudy skies and zero difference in the world. By the time it was over I had no idea it even remotely ended, and wished I never even knew of it in the first place — for my disappointment was somehow more extreme than my initial excitement for it.