Emily Hales

Schrödinger’s cat. 

By Emily Hales

Schrödinger’s cat. A simple thought experiment, elementary in design, created to disprove an interpretation of quantum physics. Simply put, in this hypothetical experiment, a cat is placed in a box equipped with a timer, one that may or may not release poison. Each event is equally as likely to happen as the other, despite leading to drastically different results. The cat dies, or it doesn’t. The experiment then concludes that until the box is opened, since either option could have occured, that the cat is simultaneously dead and alive. 

The designer of the experiment, physicist Erwin Schrödinger, was attempting to challenge the theory that all possible outcomes for an event exist alongside each other until a singular outcome is observed. Schrödinger believed that since clearly a cat cannot be both dead and alive, the theory must be incorrect. However, upon applying the concept to real life, it seems as though the idea that an infinite amount of possibilities exist at the same time is even more true. 

Despite our best efforts, the end of the year looms ever closer, graduation dutifully accompanying it. June 7th, us seniors will stand and throw our caps, placing immeasurable faith in a future that has yet to be discovered. I will stand, just like every other graduate, on the brink of Schrödinger’s box, eagerly awaiting the results inside.

There exists a world where I fail, where my non-existent cat dies. Of this I am sure. I feel it in the quickening of my heart rate, in the quaking of my hands, of the tears that prick and poke my eyes when graduating comes to mind. This future has manifested itself within me, this future where I am alone, where I lose myself, where I cannot accomplish anything I set out to do. It taunts me, gently placing its hands upon my shoulders, the pressure a constant reminder of what might happen in the years to come. It begs to hold me in place, to stop me in my tracks, to prevent me from moving forward. There exists a world where the manifestations of this future become my reality.

In equal measure, however, there is a world in which I succeed. Where my cat survives. I hear it in the stories of others’ time at school. I see it in the smiles of my friends who have since graduated and moved on. This future whispers to me in the dead of night, assuring me that it cannot be discounted. I am here it murmurs, the voice so quiet it could easily be missed. It promises me the friends of a lifetime, inimitable memories, and a range of achievements so vast that everything before it seems irrelevant. This future contains a permanent home in a place I have yet to comprehend. 

There is a world where all of this happens, and a world where none of it does. Despite every attempt I have made to look forward, a thick fog still thunders over what is yet to come, obscuring my vision completely. There are versions of me that have walked across the graduation stage, left for college, and been destroyed by the things they encountered. Their cat has been killed. There are versions of me that have done the very same thing and gotten everything they’ve ever dreamed of. Their cat has survived. I sit on the cusp of all of them, anxiously waiting to observe my particular future, the air so thick with possibility it could be pooled in one’s hand. 

In this moment of infinite uncertainty, there is nothing I can do except hope that my cat survives, and that even if it doesn’t, I will find my way back to where I need to be. Anything could happen, and I must come to understand that as a privilege rather than a burden. I could become practically anything. Regardless of the short-term outcome of this moment, I will be able to keep going, be able to find a way to thrive.

I know I will be okay.

Author’s Note: Recently, I have been extremely anxious about what is to come after graduation, and my brain kept circling back to an experiment I randomly read about late in middle school, Schrödinger’s Cat. Anything could happen after I leave, and as terrifying as that is, I have come to realize that the potential this gives me in life is a privilege. I have come to trust myself enough to know I will be okay.