The bell rings. You’re in the upper 600s hallway, and your next class is all the way at the other side of the school. Your backpack weighs more than a small child, your computer is at 2%, and someone just cut you off in the hallway. And you’ve got five minutes—five whole minutes—to make it from Point A to Point B without getting trampled or arriving late.

This schedule has zero chill.

It’s like being thrown into a battle for survival, except you’re fighting to get to class on time, not your life. The odds of making it to class without being caught in the hallway traffic are low, and the clock is merciless. Five minutes? Who thought that was enough time to pack my bag, maybe squeeze in a bathroom break, and cross the entire school without it feeling like an Olympic sprint?

I’m not saying I want school to be longer. Of course I wouldn’t want that. In fact, passing periods shouldn’t be long at all. All I’m suggesting is that an extra minute would make a huge difference. Not two or three minutes, just one.

The hallway arena: a place where time doesn’t exist

Let’s talk about the hallways. Whoever designed the layout clearly never considered how real humans move through them. Some hallways are narrow, so you’re practically shoulder-checking strangers just to get by. Others are wide enough to be “free-for-all zones,” where students just decide to stop and talk in the middle, like they’ve never heard of a schedule. Don’t even get me started on large groups of people who don’t walk single-file, but take up the whole hallway. 

Getting to the building alone feels like a quest, and that’s before the bell even rings. It’s a long walk from any parking lot to the front of the school, and with how short the passing periods are, it feels impossible to get anywhere on time. You’re basically speed walking through a maze, hoping you don’t get stuck behind a group of people who forgot how to walk in a straight line.

The bell is your countdown to doom

You know that moment when you realize you have two minutes left and you’re nowhere near your destination? Yeah, that’s your personal “countdown.” The closer you get to the class door, the more the clock feels like it’s ticking louder. You know you’re running out of time, but so is everyone else, so you end up running into people instead of past them.

You finally make it to your class a minute after the bell rings, breathless, only to be greeted by the teacher’s sympathetic look and the gentle reminder that “you need to go back to the office and get a pass.” You know, no big deal—just a reminder that the universe is out to get you.

The walk – and – talk: the art of multitasking

Surviving the passing period requires mastering the “walk-and-talk.” You have no time to stand still and chat. You’ve got to keep moving, updating your friend on the latest gossip, while simultaneously dodging people who are walking at a pace only sloths can appreciate. At the same time, you’re mentally preparing for the next class while still trying not to bump into every person on the way. It’s a skill, really.

Trying to stop for a full conversation? Good luck. If you’re not paying attention, you’ll miss the bell and walk into class late…and let’s just say the look your teacher gives you isn’t exactly welcoming.

The bathroom break: the holy grail of passing periods

If you’re lucky enough to sneak in a bathroom break, it’s like finding a treasure chest in the middle of battle. But you can’t dilly-dally. If you’re not back in time, you’ll be late, and we all know what that means. You have five minutes to do everything: hydrate, potential bathroom break, get to your next class, and pretend like you’re not stressed out about everything. 

Is that even possible? Probably not. But we try anyway.

And it doesn’t help that some teachers won’t let us use the bathroom during class, telling us to go before or after instead—as if passing periods aren’t already a minute too short to get anything done. Personally, I don’t want to miss part of a lesson just to use the bathroom. Passing periods are the best chance we have to take care of basic needs, whether that’s grabbing a drink of water, finding a moment of calm, or using the bathroom.

A call for change (or just one more minute)

I’m not asking for a miracle. Just an extra minute. One more minute between classes could change everything—bathroom breaks without the stress, time to actually talk to my teachers away from other students, or simply less hallway sprinting like we’re starring in a low-budget action movie.

And if adding time isn’t possible, then how about a little leniency? Not for students who are late all the time, but for the ones who usually aren’t. For the ones who just got stuck in a bat

hroom line longer than my will to live.

A short grace period would show understanding. It’s not about lowering standards—it’s about making space for the kind of everyday challenges students actually face.

But until that happens, we’ll continue doing what we do best: racing from one end of the school to the other, dodging obstacles, and praying to make it to class on time without being marked absent when you’re literally there.

So, next time that bell rings and you find yourself sprinting down the hall like your high school career depends on it, just remember that you’re not alone. We’re all out here in the passing period trenches together. 

May the odds be ever in your favor.