When suddenly you’re no longer ‘sixteen going on seventeen’

Adulthood hits you hard once you’re older than all seven Von Trapps.

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by Mary Hilliard, Editor-in-Chief

The first time I saw the classic film “The Sound of Music,” I was five years old, sitting in front of my grandmother’s ancient television surrounded by my rowdy cousins. When the soft crescendo of flutes leading into strong strings began, everyone quieted and focused on the lush green hills and a whirling Julie Andrews. I watched the first few scenes, confused as to what an abbey was and only vaguely engaged, until Maria arrived at the Von Trapp’s to meet the children. The youngest, Gretyl, too frightened to speak, held up five fingers to represent her age.

“I’m five too!” I exclaimed, much to the annoyance of my fellow audience members. The rest of the film I concentrated on Gretyl, not at all concerned with the serious historical drama taking place. By the time the credits rolled over the Von Trapps climbing the Swiss Alps, I was enchanted by the film.

“The Sound of Music” is an institution in my family, and just like my first time watching, I always focused on the child my age. At seven, I noted Marta’s girly taste and how her favorite color was pink, but mine was green. At ten, Brigitta strongly resonated with me because she was always reading a book. Plus, her biting wit makes her my favorite child to this day. Like eleven year old Kurt, I was proud, enthusiastic, and eager to prove myself. Louisa and I were both rebellious thirteen year olds, defying authority figures and being rather mischievous. I started high school at fifteen and, like Friedrich, my parents definitely would have called me “impossible.” At sixteen, Liesel, who had always seemed the epitome of grown up, was now my contemporary. I admired her determination, but rolled my eyes at her naive romance. Not to mention, the iconic “Sixteen Going on Seventeen” finally applied to me.  

At seventeen, after so many years of relating to each child, I could only see echoes of my stages of childhood.

I grew up with the Von Trapp children. I related to their everyday antics and saw them as peers, and evolved into a new character each time I fired up our VCR and sat back to watch their story for two and a half hours.

Senior year brings about many milestones marking the transition into adulthood, from the last first day of school to the last high school dance. However, the moment I realized I had truly grown up was not a school event, a specific birthday, or an increase in responsibility. My moment was when I watched “The Sound of Music” at seventeen years old, at last older than the oldest Von Trapp. Not only could I no longer see my present self in the Von Trapps, but the innocent glasses through which I had always seen the film shattered. At seventeen, after so many years of relating to each child, I could only see echoes of my stages of childhood.

So who was I supposed to relate to as a seventeen year old? I found myself drawn to Maria and realized her difficulties paralleled many of my own. The anxiety leaving her home, the self doubt when her life plan was thrown off course, and the confidence she eventually discovered mirrored my senior year of high school. I was panicked to leave the city I called home and lost as to what I was to do in “the real world.” But I, like Maria, found my worth, ready to face the world and any challenges I might encounter with confidence. As Maria sings, “I’ve always longed for adventure, to do the things I’ve never dared,” and thanks to the lessons I’ve learned from “The Sound of Music,” I’m prepared to climb every mountain.