"Time Is A Construct"...Or is it? by Abbigail

"Time Is A Construct"...Or is it? by Abbigail - July 2025 Scholarship Essay

The concept that "time is a construct" was first introduced to me by my 7th-grade humanities teacher, Mr. Engelhardt, who once told me to take all the time I may need on a project because, to him, time was of little importance and due dates were subjective. At the time, I understood his point in context with the situation, but I have lived the entirety of my life in total disagreement.
I could read thousands of studies arguing the existence, subjectiveness, and understanding of time as we know it; yet, terms such as "early" and "late" continue to hold value in my life. Some advice my past self most needed to hear is that time is of measurable importance, but it is how we measure it that determines our perspective and understanding of it. I left for high school each day at 6:45 AM, knowing it would, at the longest, take me thirty minutes to arrive there, only for the bell not to ring until 8:00 AM. After being in the same building for 4 years, I STILL sped walk to each class, typically arriving out of breath because I couldn’t bear to walk into a classroom as the bell was ringing.
Even as a child I spent my life driving my family and friends insane with my obsession over time. Although I have now learned to find comfort in my internal clock, it wasn’t always a source of joy for me. As a kid it was frustrating to watch how other people’s definition of “going with the flow” differed from mine. No matter how much I tried to defy my own schedule, doing so only brought me more anxiety. Although it sounds cliché, there were definitely times that I beat myself up over the fact that despite my efforts, I could never truly implement the concept that "time is a construct" into my own life.
It is only after years of reflection that I have come to have a little understanding of how my very prominent internal clock has significantly shaped my life. Despite Mr. Engelhardt’s words of wisdom and the teasing I received each morning from my peers, teachers, and parents, I left for school at 6:45 AM because I enjoyed the morning karaoke parties my sisters and I had in the empty parking lot. It was important to me that each of my sisters had the opportunity to pick "one last song" before we headed into school. "One last song" before they spent the next 8 hours of their day stressing about whatever essay or test they were tasked with completing. “One last song” to prepare them for the best and most fulfilling day that they had the potential and capability to lead. I sped walk to class because I needed 1 minute before the bell to discuss with my best friend what pen color combo I would be taking my notes with, 1 minute to select the sticker we would gift to our teacher, and 1 minute to ensure that no one was having a mental breakdown over the test they took in the previous period. Those minutes to some may seem better leisurely walking to class, however, looking back on my four years of high school, I know three-minute intervals, such as those spent waiting for the bell, include some of my most cherished memories. I know now, that as a college student, I have deeply missed those early morning car parties with my sisters that I once took for granted. And I can confidently say that I have learned so much about myself and my friends in the minutes spent chatting amongst ourselves prior to the beginning of classes, and that, to me, is worth all the time in the world, and a good cardio session in the sprint to class.
I would tell past Abbi that her disagreement with Mr.Engelhardt was not a point of weakness but rather a quirk that she would later learn to admire. A quirk that would lead her to build countless memories because of the strict schedule she held herself to. I have learned that time is not just a daunting, limiting, and confining concept but one of great opportunities in which we should be appreciative of . Mathematically, time tells me that I was forced to leave for highschool by 7:30 AM, and yet I choose to leave at 6:45 AM. The minutes between 6:45 AM and 7:15 AM were a gift of measurable importance. I measured that time not by 30 minutes but rather by the smiles, laughs, and conversations that those 30 minutes had the potential to contain. I am lucky to say that it didn’t take a near death experience or the loss of a loved one for me to understand how truly precious time is but rather a few years of reflection over the words of my seventh grade teacher. I do live with the “shackles” of time, but I have learned to love them. I know now that I hold the power to determine exactly what those “shackles” are, and no matter how much stress they may bring me, I am sure it will forever be worth it for all the memories and experiences I have gained as a result of being "early".