In Four Years Time

In Four Years Time

Reese Levine, Editor In Chief

Four years is a long time. It’s the length of one presidential term, but it’s also the extent of high school, college, and the time it takes for an adorable baby to grow into a screaming, annoying toddler. The recent elections have got me to thinking; where will I be in four years?

The first step in predicting the future is always to look towards the past. Four years ago, I was in eighth grade, at the top of the middle school hierarchy. Compared to the decisions I’m making now, anything that happened then seems trivial and unimportant. Making sure I didn’t miss the bus and wondering what was packed in my lunch were the extent of my worries. All my teachers told me that eighth grade was preparation for the monster that was high school, so I figured why not have a good time. Obama getting elected was a big deal, and it’s amazing to think that I’ve grown up so much since he first took office.

Going back another four years, we come to fourth grade. This was the first time I knew or cared anything about politics. We had a mock vote in my class, and I voted for the Green Party candidate, just to be different. If there’s one thing I remember from fourth grade, however, it was how we had to be dismissed from our lunch tables before we could go to recess and play. It was absolutely infuriating watching other tables getting let out before mine just because we had one missed straw wrapper floating around. How can elementary schools be allowed to get away with such totalitarian rules? I guarantee that if I am ever put in a position of power that will be the first thing I change, and you can hold me to that.

Now we start getting into the fuzzy formative years of my life. Four years before fourth grade was kindergarten. Sleepy Hollow had a completely different schedule for kindergarteners and we barely ever saw any of the other classes. I remember absolutely nothing from the election from that year, and most of my memories are images of me running around or sitting in a circle, although I’m not sure where this circle was or why I was sitting in it.

In 1996, four times four years ago, I was one year old. And that’s about it.

Alright, here we go: 2016. I’ll be a senior at a prestigious university that makes the rear of my car look good, my Rhodes scholarship application will be completed and submitted, and I’ll have signed a big contract with a professional cycling team. And unless the revolution promised by Donald Trump does take place, I’ll have just placed my vote for who will become president for the next four years (Colbert 2016).

How can I be so sure of where I will end up? It’s simple probability, and I’m in AP Statistics. After taking a random sample of everything in the universe, I am left with three subjects. First, President Barack Obama knows where he will be in four years—beginning the process of packing up to leave the White House. Second, any squirrel anywhere—dead, flattened by a car tire. Third, the Earth—in the same position relative to the sun as it is today.

100% of this sample, which is representative of everyone and everything, knows where they will be in four years. Therefore, I have a 100% chance of knowing where I will be in four years, with an error of 0%. Statistics always conquers logic.

In principle, the journey to 2016 should take a long time, which is unfortunate for many Republicans in this country and me. Yet in reality, it’s quite different. Today passes slowly, a sequence of infinite moments, but yesterday passed in the blink of an eye, and tomorrow will do the same. Four years from now is a long ways away, but only for the next couple days. So while all of you are slowly trudging down the path towards 2016 and the next election cycle, I’ll already be there, basking in my fame and fortune.