At North Atlanta High School, the parking deck isn’t just a structure, it’s more of a battleground. Every morning feels like a chaotic version of musical chairs where the music never stops, the rules are made up, and the consequences get realer and realer every day. Each grade level has an unofficially assigned section, and although these aren’t official rules, they are unspoken rules that have been followed by generations of North Atlanta students, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. But as more students get their licenses, especially sophomores with shiny new keys and oversized confidence, our unspoken deck boundaries are constantly crossed. And not all the issues in the deck are territorial problems; some drivers in this deck park like they’ve never seen a white line in their life, which adds more chaos that, trust me, we do not need.
The deck is pretty much divided into 4 sections, and while there are no signs strictly enforcing the rules, everyone knows where they’re supposed to park; it’s just a matter of whether they listen or not. The first floor is reserved for teachers, understandable and reasonable, no issues there. The first floor ramp and half of the second floor are for seniors, they’re the top of the food chain, so sure they get first pick after the teachers. The other half of the second floor and the second floor ramp are for juniors. And then there’s the third floor, the sophomore zone, a rite of passage, a hazing even. Those are the rules of the deck, and they’re supposed to be followed. But this year, something changed.
Once the sophomore class started getting their licenses and rolling in with their permit papers still warm, they decided the top floor wasn’t good enough. They began helping themselves to the closer, more convenient spots that have already been claimed by the upperclassmen for months. To some, it seems like a case of entitlement, and to others, it could simply seem like a miscommunication. Either way, it’s worsening the already delicate parking system of NAHS. Juniors arrive only to find their spots taken, which then leads them to take someone else’s spot, and then it becomes an endless cycle nobody is happy with, except the stealing sophomores.
But what makes the deck even worse? The parking jobs themselves. Crooked, diagonal, over the line, or way too close, it’s a miracle some of these cars passed their driving tests. People will swing into a space like it’s their driveway at home, not caring if they’ve taken up two spots or parked so close to someone they can’t even get out of their car. You can always tell the experienced drivers from the ones who just got their license by the way their car sits, either perfectly within the lines, or embarrassingly awkward, wheels turned like they panicked mid-park. You can sometimes feel a sense of entitlement to the parking jobs, too. People in their nice Broncos or precious trucks park them in 2 spots so no one can even get close enough to breathe near them if they wanted to.
The truth is, the NAHS parking deck is more than just a place to leave your car; it’s a social experiment. Whether you’re a senior claiming your seniority, a junior fending off spot thieves, or a sophomore trying to sneak into a better spot, one thing’s for sure: parking at NAHS gets personal.
