Jun 7, 2020 | Brynn Weisholtz, Senior Reflections
By Brynn Weisholtz
In this time, we are surrounded by unknowns, unsure of whatever comes next. The media outlets have analyzed this pandemic from every angle, scrutinizing each viewpoint… except, it seems, the positive one. It is with this sentiment I find myself longing to share what I believe to be Pingry’s greatest quality: its deep commitment and dedication to the student body.
As I walked out of the clocktower on March 6th, my backpack filled with books, I was prepared to depart for my final Spring Break at Pingry, ready for the exciting conclusion to my senior year. However, this year, that anticipatory aura was not present. Preparing for COVID-19, teachers and administrators instructed us to bring everything home. When my extended Spring Break turned into a permanent quarantine, I feared this marked the end of high school. Nevertheless, while my time inside the Pingry walls came to a close, the faculty, staff, and administration refused to allow this to be our official end of high school. Even apart, we were able to stay connected as a class and community.
From this point, we went online. Teachers willingly made adjustments to their disrupted personal lives. The Pingry family grew, children and pets being a welcome inclusion into the virtual classroom. They helped us retain a sense of normalcy, even from our bedrooms and kitchen tables. Outside of the classroom, we were still able to participate in quintessential senior events. From the comfort of our homes, the Virtual SAC Assembly was as humorous and witty as ever. Dressed in spirit gear in our living rooms, the athletic awards were a welcome reminder of all we have accomplished over these last four years. The Pingry faculty and staff was instrumental in allowing us to keep these traditions, but that was not all these wonderful individuals did for us.
We, the Class of 2020, will go down in history for the world we are graduating into, but in our minds, we will fondly remember the special gifts and events we got to have, unique to our class. On the morning of May 1st, each senior woke up to balloons on our front steps, commemorating our final day of classes. Later that day, we were welcomed back to the Pingry parking lot, social distancing from our trunks and sunroofs. We received surprise packages, filled with bookstore memorabilia and graduation regalia. The Pingry community ensured that I could still display the Pingry colors proudly.
The teachers gave us lasting memories, bringing the student body and faculty together in unity. Whether the special videos with messages, the college shirt video, or the advisor Spotify playlist, we were able to get a window into the lives of our beloved teachers. No other class had received these special senior gifts, and they are ones my peers and I will continue to cherish.
Then came the senior picture day on campus. My family packed into our car and made the journey west on Route 78, perhaps for my last time as a high school student. We turned the corner past the stone entrance, and were met with familiar faces: ours, smiling back, all together. The car slowed to a crawl down the driveway as I scanned the images of my friends and peers. This was quite the surprise, and such a special one at that. The Pingry community had given us this treasured gift, one even my brother, Class of 2016, laments he did not receive. Although we missed out on the last few months in Basking Ridge, we received innumerable and immeasurable gifts, specially curated for our class, that we will take with us forever, uniquely ours.
There is a theme throughout these activities: connection and community. While we certainly did not envision ending our Pingry career this way, we, the collective Pingry community, have not allowed quarantine to rob us of our traditions. From the award ceremonies over Zoom to the senior photos on campus, we maintain a positive and unified group. The Class of 2020 will certainly be remembered, and the teachers and administration are sending us off with unprecedented fanfare that will propel us into our future colleges with courage and resilience. Things may be more different now that ever, but we are still going out strong. Thank you Pingry and congratulations to the Class of 2020 once more.
Jun 7, 2020 | Senior Reflections
By Emily Sanchez
I have a vivid memory of sitting in the senior area as a newly accepted eighth grader and listening to a panel of students talk about Pingry. It was the first time I had ever actually visited Pingry, and knowing absolutely no one, I was nervous out of my mind. I remember a parent asking a question along the lines of, “What are easy ways to make friends at Pingry?” My interest piqued as I started to take mental notes of everything that the students said. One student’s response stuck with me throughout high school. He couldn’t think of any additional thoughts that were not already mentioned by his peers, so all he said was: “I don’t really know exactly how I made my friends. All I know is that one day I looked around and realized that I finally belonged.”
As freshman year rolled around, I kept reminding myself that I just had to wait out the awkward part. Everything would eventually come together before my eyes, and I’d just belong. Although admittedly a little bit slower than most, I joined clubs, played sports, and found my friends. However, the moment promised to me by the student on the panel did not come until my senior year.
I’m sure the rest of my grade would agree when I say that we always felt like a lesser grade than those before us. The grade directly above us was considered one of the smartest to ever go through Pingry, and we were the grade that had a Juul scandal and two kids who were expelled. While other grades generally got along with each other, our grade was very cliquey. This all changed senior year.
For some reason, our grade really flourished this past year. We consistently went to sports games and theater performances, the cliques faded to simply groups of friends, and we helped each other through the college process with hardly any sense of competition.
Cut to February and there had been a string of suicides at various surrounding schools, some of which deeply affected members of our class. A lot of us felt like the school wasn’t doing enough to address it, so the peer leaders decided to organize a form meeting in which a handful of students sat on the edge of the stage in Macrae and shared their stories regarding mental health. Usually, there is a slight hum during form meetings due to the large number of people in a relatively small space. But this time, every single person in the theater was absolutely silent. The vulnerability from the seniors that spoke and the respect from the rest of the class created an atmosphere in the room that everybody involved will never forget. There was an unspoken sense that we were all struggling in our own ways, but that everyone in our grade was there to help us get through it.
After the seniors who shared their stories were finished, we did something that the peer leaders call “shout-outs,” which is exactly what it sounds like. People started standing up, without any prompt and thanked somebody else in our grade for something small that they had done in the past. Seniors from every friend group in our grade ended up shouting out their friends, or sometimes people they barely knew.
In the middle of the shout-outs, the student from the panel popped into my head. I found myself looking around the room and thinking that I could, with one hundred percent confidence, say that I felt like I belonged in the Class of 2020. That feeling has not left since.
Jun 7, 2020 | Senior Reflections
By Burke Pagano
When I look back on this past year, one memory of our grade comes to mind before any others. The grade began to funnel into Macrae Theater at 10 o’clock for a routine form meeting. A few seniors had the idea that we should get together as a grade to talk about mental health; it was a pertinent topic. It was a stressful time for everyone. The semester was ending, anxiousness about college was growing, but more importantly, there was a tragic, unexpected stress that loomed over the community. Over the past month, there were a series of suicides among seniors in the northern New Jersey area. Many in the class knew or knew of these students and felt we needed to address this as a whole senior community at Pingry.
The leaders of the meeting were brave. They opened up about personal experiences with mental health and emphasized the importance of supporting one another. Their message was clear: we have an obligation as seniors and members of a community to look out for each other and lift each other up. The student leaders challenged us to move outside our friend groups and show that we appreciate those that might not even know it. To put this in action, they asked anyone who was willing to stand up and give a shoutout to someone who had a positive influence in others’ lives. For the next ten minutes, dozens of students shared what other people in the class meant to them. It was the epitome of a community supporting each other. It was a genuine experience, and the grade carried a new energy from that point on.
This moment together in Macrae showed the growth we had as a class. During our freshman year, the only reason we would have had a form meeting in Macrae was to be lectured after making a mess in the freshman area. Now, we entered Macrae in support of our fellow classmates in a forum, where we sought to improve the culture of our school. We could have ignored this challenging subject and continued with our lives, but we addressed it head on. This is the character of the Class of 2020. We started high school with teachers and administrators asking, “What are we going to do with this grade?” and by the end had them asking, “What are we going to do without them?”
We did not get the ending to high school we were hoping for; that is obvious. But the Class of 2020 is undoubtedly leaving a legacy at Pingry. Throughout our four years of high school, and even just six months as seniors, the ability of this class to come together when times are tough and shape better versions of ourselves and our communities is truly remarkable. They have made a positive impact on the culture at Pingry and will surely continue to do so in college and in life. Congratulations to the Class of 2020.
Jun 7, 2020 | Senior Reflections
By Brian Li
I did not want to come to Pingry. When I first received the phone call from the Admissions Office as an eighth-grader, I was ambivalent. The thought of being a new student in a new school in a new town was an incredibly daunting one. I remember the first night in a new home, the surprise of seeing bookbags strewn across the floor, and the angst of finding a seat in the lunchroom. My freshman advisor Ms. Lily Wang noted bluntly to my family that I had a penchant for isolating myself in the library during my free time, where I could slide into a cubicle and go unnoticed.
For the longest time, I struggled to identify with Pingry, and there were many nights when I questioned if the Admissions Office had erred. A friend once commented that I am an introvert who acts like an extrovert, and so it was extremely uncomfortable to feel like I could only see the community through a window. “People at my old school aren’t like this,” I would quietly think to myself. Although I am loath to admit it, there was a bitterness within me that bordered on animus.
Without realizing it, I had squandered my first weeks at Pingry making three foolish mistakes: first, I had a deep-seated impatience within me which desired for everything to happen instantly; second, I thought that I could become a part of the community without effort; and third, I was blind to the deep-seated humanity present in Pingry at large, as well as in the Class of 2020 in particular.
Pingry is a fast-paced community, but amidst our impulse to reach our goals, we often forget to appreciate that which can be gleaned from the journey. Like I said at Convocation, failures and setbacks are not frightening—they are fertile experiences for positive personal growth and transformation. My advisor Mr. Drew Burns’ exhortations to “slow down” and “run your own race” has become a calming mantra that has accompanied me during the stresses of junior and senior year, and I wish that I had known that as a freshman. It takes courage to see beyond the diktat of unchecked and half-baked ambitions that run on unreasonable schedules, and I lacked that as a freshman.
Despite my impatience, by Thanksgiving, I had found my people. I still vividly remember those people who welcomed me into the Pingry community as soon as I began to branch out: my freshman Art Funds class with Mr. Peter Delman, English 9 with Dr. Reid Cottingham, World History 9 with Dr. Ryan Staude (where I dropped an f-bomb after a very bad review Jeopardy bet), and the Quiz Bowl team.
Becoming a part of any community takes a bit of effort and a leap of faith. I have a calligraphy scroll hanging over my desk which reads “盡人事 順天意”—do what you must and then follow the will of heaven. Everything happens in due course, and with a little bit of patience, I was able to find a community which was teeming with humanity, spirit, and compassion. I have been so privileged to serve our community as a member of Student Government and to have come to personally know so many other amazing people through the other hats I wore over the past four. I am ever grateful to my peers and teachers for accepting me with my eccentricities, clumsiness, and flaws, and for motivating me to work hard to better myself.
The Pingry Record has asked me to think and reflect on the defining moments of my time as a part of Pingry and the Class of 2020. I find it difficult to do so, as the friendships and bonds we share are a constant presence in our lives, even when we are apart. Pingry and the Class of 2020 have created a dynamic and resilient community which has celebrated each other’s successes, comforted each other during setbacks, and bravely weathered both the Pingry Plague and COVID-19.
This is a community which has squashed my naïve skepticism with its warmth. This is a community which seeks out the most meaningful and unique parts of each person who has passed through its doors. And, over the past four years, there have been all too many moments when the members of this community have looked at each other with a mix of disbelief and pride at the ways we have enriched each other’s lives, created lasting memories, and grown in ways we could have never imagined.
I did not want to come to Pingry. When I first received the phone call from the Admissions Office as an eighth-grader, I was ambivalent. The thought of being a new student in a new school in a new town was an incredibly daunting one. I remember the first night in a new home, the surprise of seeing bookbags strewn across the floor, and the angst of finding a seat in the lunchroom. My freshman advisor Ms. Lily Wang noted bluntly to my family that I had a penchant for isolating myself in the library during my free time, where I could slide into a cubicle and go unnoticed.
For the longest time, I struggled to identify with Pingry, and there were many nights when I questioned if the Admissions Office had erred. A friend once commented that I am an introvert who acts like an extrovert, and so it was extremely uncomfortable to feel like I could only see the community through a window. “People at my old school aren’t like this,” I would quietly think to myself. Although I am loath to admit it, there was a bitterness within me that bordered on animus.
Without realizing it, I had squandered my first weeks at Pingry making three foolish mistakes: first, I had a deep-seated impatience within me which desired for everything to happen instantly; second, I thought that I could become a part of the community without effort; and third, I was blind to the deep-seated humanity present in Pingry at large, as well as in the Class of 2020 in particular.
Pingry is a fast-paced community, but amidst our impulse to reach our goals, we often forget to appreciate that which can be gleaned from the journey. Like I said at Convocation, failures and setbacks are not frightening—they are fertile experiences for positive personal growth and transformation. My advisor Mr. Drew Burns’ exhortations to “slow down” and “run your own race” has become a calming mantra that has accompanied me during the stresses of junior and senior year, and I wish that I had known that as a freshman. It takes courage to see beyond the diktat of unchecked and half-baked ambitions that run on unreasonable schedules, and I lacked that as a freshman.
Despite my impatience, by Thanksgiving, I had found my people. I still vividly remember those people who welcomed me into the Pingry community as soon as I began to branch out: my freshman Art Funds class with Mr. Peter Delman, English 9 with Dr. Reid Cottingham, World History 9 with Dr. Ryan Staude (where I dropped an f-bomb after a very bad review Jeopardy bet), and the Quiz Bowl team.
Becoming a part of any community takes a bit of effort and a leap of faith. I have a calligraphy scroll hanging over my desk which reads “盡人事 順天意”—do what you must and then follow the will of heaven. Everything happens in due course, and with a little bit of patience, I was able to find a community which was teeming with humanity, spirit, and compassion. I have been so privileged to serve our community as a member of Student Government and to have come to personally know so many other amazing people through the other hats I wore over the past four. I am ever grateful to my peers and teachers for accepting me with my eccentricities, clumsiness, and flaws, and for motivating me to work hard to better myself.
The Pingry Record has asked me to think and reflect on the defining moments of my time as a part of Pingry and the Class of 2020. I find it difficult to do so, as the friendships and bonds we share are a constant presence in our lives, even when we are apart. Pingry and the Class of 2020 have created a dynamic and resilient community which has celebrated each other’s successes, comforted each other during setbacks, and bravely weathered both the Pingry Plague and COVID-19.
This is a community which has squashed my naïve skepticism with its warmth. This is a community which seeks out the most meaningful and unique parts of each person who has passed through its doors. And, over the past four years, there have been all too many moments when the members of this community have looked at each other with a mix of disbelief and pride at the ways we have enriched each other’s lives, created lasting memories, and grown in ways we could have never imagined.
Jun 7, 2020 | Senior Reflections
By Martha Lewand
In my first journal assignment for Mr. Keating’s Freedom-Honors class, I defined what freedom means to me and how I exercise that freedom on a day to day basis. I wrote:
“For me, freedom means having the ability to make choices. This feeling of independence and self-reliance intensifies when restrictions are lifted or when additional privileges are awarded. However, it is vital not to neglect the responsibilities that are attached to the privileges our freedom permits. The freedom to make decisions is ultimately bounded by responsibility.”
Nine months later, despite how much my life and the world has changed, I still agree with my definition. Further along in the journal, I spoke about how I did not have as much freedom a normal teenager should possess due to my hectic and restrictive academic and athletic schedules. However, considering how I have been trapped in my home for the past 2 months due to a deadly global pandemic, I realize I would sacrifice almost anything to return to the amount of freedom I once held.
Now that my senior year is completed, I can finally reflect on the past four years of my life with a more cultivated perspective. To be quite frank, my high school experience was definitely not like the movies. Transitioning from an average public middle school in a middle-class town, to the rigorous and demanding academics, along with a horrendous commute, of Pingry was difficult for me. I had and still have issues with the school and how they handle certain aspects. The exhausting demands of school and club swimming, among other things, took a heavy toll on my mental health and sleep schedule. I do not even know where to begin regarding the adversities of the college process either; taking the ACT six times in order to receive a manageable score was not the most enjoyable process.
My high school experience was not perfect, to say the least. Nonetheless, I learned a great deal from each moment of hardship, which I truly believe will greatly benefit me for the rest of my life. For example, there is no doubt I will be extremely prepared for college; if anything, I am probably over-prepared for the amount of studying and work I will have to complete over the next four years, which I am extremely grateful for. In addition, I was deferred from what I thought was my dream school back in the winter, which was a blessing in disguise. A week after my deferral, I was unexpectedly accepted into what would turn out to be my true dream school—the University of Michigan. Although cliché, I now understand everything happens for a reason.
However, it would be naive of me not to credit some of the amazing experiences during my high school career. I made some of my best friends and learned loads about the world during my time at Pingry. I have watched my friends, including myself, grow tremendously as strong individuals, prepared to conquer the world. I feel blessed to have created relationships with some superb teachers. I discovered my passion for journalism among other academic subjects. Last summer was easily the best summer of my life; I made so many friends and connections which will last a lifetime, through a journalism conference and summer program. I had the opportunity to be a captain of the almost 30 diligent and amazing girls of the Pingry Swim Team, whom I adore. I cannot discount the Snowball dances and prom either; those were undoubtedly a blast.
My high school experience was not exactly as glamorous as Ferris Bueller’s per say, but I am grateful for such life-changing moments and my growth as an individual. Obviously, I have had what seems to be an infinite amount of time to ponder about my future due to the fact that I have not left my house in a couple of months. The future is very uncertain at this point. In addition to blatantly freaking out over the uncertainty of in-person instruction at my university this fall and whether I will have the glamorous college experience I have always dreamt of, I have been able to not only reflect on my past but also reconsider my plans for the future. I am an organized individual who likes having a schedule or plan, but I also like change. COVID-19 has shown me that anything can happen and change within the blink of an eye. So, I must be prepared for adjustments in the future and be comfortable with them.
I have a plan for college and post-grad, but I have begun to consider different realities. In addition to majoring in International Studies, I might also major or minor in Criminal Justice, Arabic, Marketing, Statistics, etc. Maybe I will not be a journalist for my whole life. I might decide to take the Foreign Service Exam and see where that leads me, or even join the FBI.
In order to pursue such experiences and careers, I must exercise my personal freedom more than I ever have. Due to COVID-19, I have realized that I cannot take my freedom for granted. I must take advantage of every opportunity I want to take in the future, even if “the timing isn’t right” or “I’m too busy.” No more excuses to hold off my life aspirations and potential discoveries. Like Chris McCandless from Into the Wild, I need to live, not just exist.
Even though COVID-19 seized the only period of time in high school to relax with my friends and enjoy the events I have anticipated for a lifetime (i.e. senior prom, senior boat ride, a journalism internship for my ISP, high school graduation, and the last summer before I leave for college), I guess this is my cathartic way of thanking COVID-19. I, along with the rest of the world, have learned at least one significant lesson, positive or negative, from this worldwide tragedy. Although there is uncertainty in what the future holds, I am content with my reflection of the past four years and what the rest of my life will bring, while making sure to utilize and remind myself of the significance of my personal freedom along the way.
Jun 7, 2020 | Senior Reflections, Victoria Gu
By Victoria Gu
As an eighth grader at Pingry, my time management skills were particularly poor. I spent too much time procrastinating each afternoon, causing me to start my homework late at night. I have only myself to blame for these habits, but the consequences were rough. I had to fight to keep myself awake in class, as if dragging myself through some sort of syrupy, incoherent blur. I spent my flexes and any free time catching up on sleep. I think that’s where I developed the reputation that won me the superlative “most likely to fall asleep in class.” I’m glad my peers were generally accepting of this unusual behavior, but I felt out of place. I had friends from some classes, but I did not feel a part of any group of people; rather, I felt like an individual who happened to be in the same grade as others.
In the spring of that year, I met with Ms. Leffler, who had been both my science teacher and advisor for two years. I remember our conversation very well, especially that she seemed genuinely concerned about my sleep schedule and social life. I think it was at that point that I realized I needed to change myself. We talked about how high school would be different—I would have more work, but also more free time. I would have a conference period every day, but also join and invest more time into clubs and other school activities. She mentioned how I’d likely find more people with which I could resonate in that new environment.
What Ms. Leffler said came true, albeit not immediately. At the start of my freshman year, instead of sleeping between classes, I became overly focused on secluding myself to finish work during flexes and conference periods. At least I was sleeping more at home and less tired during the day. I think I started feeling I was a part of the Class of 2020 a bit later in that year. I got better at balancing my time; while I found time to talk to friends, I was still able to acknowledge when I needed to work on something urgent.
What truly made me feel a part of this class, however, extends beyond that. From old classmates asking how I was doing to 8:10 AM calls from students concerned I’d miss class, these little but not insignificant moments made me feel at home in Pingry. While our classes grew more rigorous, I was comforted by the collective support of my fellow classmates. I specifically remember throwing around possible essay ideas with Mr. Shilts and a few other students after class one afternoon. Hearing everyone else’s thoughts let me come up with the rather daring idea of proving that two canonically unlinked characters were the same person. Though I liked the concept, I wasn’t sure it would work, but the enthusiasm I received from everyone in the room convinced me to try. This, and many other moments from outside of class, helped to connect us. Though we struggled with schoolwork, balancing after-school activities, and finally our college applications and results this year, our celebrations and sympathies for each other made these endeavors more bearable. I’m sincerely grateful for the empathy and warmth this class has shown these past few years, and I hope that I’ll find something similar as I transition into yet another new environment next year.
Jun 10, 2018 | Opinion, Senior Reflections
By Michael Weber ’18
Wow… it’s over. One whirlwind year as Student Body President and four total years on Student Government, all done as of two weeks ago. The more time I’ve had to reflect on the past year in particular, the more I’ve come to appreciate just how fantastic it was. I’ve made many speeches to various groups, sat in on Board of Trustees meetings, and most importantly, collaborated with students in both the Middle and Upper School. My favorite part about the job was interacting with so many different people in the Pingry community, because it highlighted just how incredible the people in this very community are. Here are just a few examples to demonstrate just how unique Pingry is in being such a close community.
You have to form a relationship with your teachers. You see each other almost everyday for nine months, making it impossible to not have at least some type of relationship (the nature of which I can’t assume). This student-teacher dynamic, at its most fundamental level, is not unique to Pingry, although the strength of it is. What is special about Pingry is just how many teachers you will form lasting relationships with who never actually taught you. We all have at least a handful of adults scattered throughout the school who we never interacted with in an academic, athletic, or art setting with whom we are still friendly. For me, Mr. Burns, Mr. Coe, and Mr. Keating stand out as just three of the many teachers who never actually taught me but still interact with me as if we’ve been in class together for four years. It is easy for teachers to completely ignore students they’ve never had in class, because those students aren’t part of their job description. But at Pingry, teachers usually don’t make anything easy for themselves. They go out of their way to know most of the students, having taught them or not, and be cordial to everyone who they see in the halls. That is a testament to the kind of human beings that comprise our faculty.
Another element of Pingry that I’ve taken great pride in over my thirteen years as a student here is the Honor Code. The Honor Code is written, but its effects are felt far past the borders of the 8×10 piece of paper we sign at the beginning of each year. The Honor Code is why the Middle School can have no locks on lockers. It is why students can forget a laptop in their respective area in the high school and return confidently the next morning knowing it will be exactly where they left it. It is why a teacher can leave the room in the middle of an assessment. These are all things we take for granted because it is so ingrained in us as members of the community, but these things are not normal; they are unique to our community. The presence of the Honor Code is stitched into our moral fabric. I can’t tell you exact sentences or phrases written in its original document, but I can tell you that the thought of cheating on an assessment has never even crossed my mind, thanks to its constant, looming presence. For me, it was not because I was afraid of getting in trouble with the administration if I had violated the Honor Code. It was because I was afraid of violating the almost one hundred years of the Code, as well as the thousands of students before me that abided by that Code that strings generations of Pingry students together.
Most unique about the Pingry School is, of course, the students. At Pingry you have an all-star golf player who is an excellent student and is also on the very successful robotics team (Ami Gianchandani). You have an actor, Politics club president, and a member of the Glee Club (Calvary Dominique). You have a softball player, captain, and student government representative (Maddie Parrish). I could go on with 135 other seniors and their various impressive titles and achievements, and that is great. But what is truly different about Pingry students is their humility and grace. If a stranger walks into the school and begins to interact with the students, that person would never guess just how accomplished each of the students he or she is interacting with are. And the best part is, we are all always hungry for more. Ami, Cal, and Maddie, I’m sure, are happy with the many accomplishments they have accrued in high school, but they are in no way content. The same can be said for every other student in the school, and the success is contagious.
I consider myself extremely lucky to be around such talented, caring, and incredible people over the past thirteen years. Everything starts at home and with the family unit, but the Pingry community has been a close second in the formation of the person I am today.
It has been an honor getting to know all of you, and I look forward to seeing all the great that is done by the class of 2018 and beyond. I don’t know when, how, or under what circumstances, but we will meet again, and I know it will be just as if we never left. God Bless.
Jun 10, 2018 | Opinion, Senior Reflections
By Shruti Sagar ’18
A couple weeks ago, we had our final peer group meeting, and hidden in between a few different side conversations, I heard one of my peer groupies quietly ask how bad junior year really is. I started to talk to him about junior year a bit, and eventually all the side conversations died down and the whole group started to listen. I crave order more than anyone else I know, so I couldn’t just explain junior year without giving them my perspective on the rest of high school. I did just that—I sat down for around twenty minutes and took eight freshmen through my high school experience. I let myself be extremely vulnerable, which is probably why I remember none of what I said, except for what I said about senior year. I told them that above everything else, senior year is the year you realize things.
I think high school is one of the strangest concepts in the world. You enter as a scrawny but bright-eyed fourteen-year-old and you graduate as an adult, and the amount of experiences, opportunities, memories, and failures that happen in between those two milestones are so much more concentrated than those that people have prior to life before their first day of high school. Movies and TV shows paint high school as some sort of a quintessential coming-of-age experience full of drama, locker decorations, football games, and boring classes. The problem with that depiction is that a typical high school experience doesn’t actually exist. These fictional adaptations often forget to include the long nights where you can hardly keep your eyes open, the moments that you think are going to break you, or the unexplainable weight that comes from carrying constant stress. In other words, stereotypes of the high school experience often forget about the hardships because it makes the experience sound less frightening and more enticing, but I have realized that it is out of difficult times that a person grows, and how a person handles hardship says more about their character than any big win, good grade, or prom date ever could.
Pingry can be the worst sometimes. The rigorous environment we create for each other results in so many of these hardships in the first place because so many of us think that we need to be on top in every sense of the word—that we need to create that nonexistent “high school experience” for ourselves. For me, the college process was such a slap in the face because it made me realize how much is out of our control and that “normal” truly does not exist. So many Pingry students, myself included, push ourselves to beyond our maximum because we believe that every failure or success we experience is our responsibility, when in reality, it’s all just a part of life.
I mean it when I say that I’m nothing but grateful I didn’t get into the college I applied to early. Sure, it meant months of waiting, agonizing, and hoping, but more than all that, it made me step back, look at the bigger picture, and recognize that if being deferred from an incredible school was something to cry about, then my life is nothing but a blessing. It made me realize that when all is said and done, when I’m going through the motions of my freshman year of college, I’m not going to remember the statistics of the schools I applied to or the results I got from each, but rather the people who stood by my side—the ones who listened to me for hours and the ones that I listened to for hours. I became close this year with incredible people for several reasons, and a big one was because I didn’t get into college. I learned to check in on others, to put situations into perspective, and most importantly, to recognize that my life isn’t supposed to be a movie. We’re going to mess up, or life is going to mess us up, but it is how we emerge from these situations, and more importantly, how we support our peers and help others stay afloat that speaks to the way we carry ourselves.
Now that I’ve ended a paragraph I started with “Pingry can be the worst,” I think it’s only fair I address how this school has shaped my character and influenced me for the better. In the first few lines of Jack Garratt’s song “Surprise Yourself,” he sings: “Speak and open up your mind/It’s something you should do all the time/Keep exploring, seek and find/You know you might surprise yourself.” I promised myself I would try not to be tacky, but here I am quoting song lyrics, so I think I’ll just keep going with that theme.
Like I said before, I openly think high school is the weirdest concept ever, and I will never understand it. I always tell people that I don’t necessarily think high school is the place I am meant to “thrive,” but at the same time, I’m incredibly grateful for Pingry and all the opportunities and experiences that came with it. I’ll miss it so much because of the little things. I’ll miss the fact that I’ve slept in a tent on Pingry’s campus multiple times, that teachers want to have genuine conversations about things that actually matter and don’t discount your opinion, and that I can walk anywhere in the school at any time and find someone who wants to have a conversation. I’ll miss the field hockey team, peer leadership, and my IRT group—all groups of people brought together by common interests yet bonded together by so much more than just an extracurricular.
I encourage any underclassmen reading this to think about the lyrics I quoted above. The little things that make me love Pingry so much became such big parts of my life, but that wouldn’t have been possible if I didn’t learn to approach conversations with an open mind, get to know as many people as I can, and most importantly, listen to what other people have to say. I’ve realized that by doing so, I have, in fact, surprised myself—and I know this because, again, senior year is the year you realize things.
Jun 10, 2018 | Opinion, Senior Reflections
By Owen Wolfson ’18
About a month and a half ago, I was on a PSPA panel. One of the questions asked was focused on how to further integrate students into the community, and how to make them feel fully included in Pingry life. After Mr. Conard listed off community events that aimed to bring everyone together, he passed the question off to me in order to gain a student’s perspective. The first phrase that jumped into my head was something everyone has probably heard during their college process: “It is what you make of it.”
I had heard this from college counselors, teachers, peers, parents, and just about anyone else who has been involved in my life, and it allowed me to see that whatever college I chose, my experience is truly what I decide it will be. However, I had never really thought of it in the context of my time at Pingry. When this jumped into my head during the panel, I dismissed it at first, only to come back to it and realize its truth.
That truth is that Pingry is a special place, and I think we, hopefully, all see that. But Pingry can only be so special on its own; it evolves into amazing when every opportunity and resource is taken advantage of, like when a genius math student takes the leap into photography and a star lacrosse player joins the Buttondowns.
Personally, I realize that a lot of my defining experiences here have been so important to me because I have taken that leap and have embraced Pingry in all its specialness. One of my greatest experiences, my time on the soccer team, would not have happened without that leap into the unknown. While high school soccer may have been a natural progression for me, I can look at some of my fellow senior teammates and know that without the perfect combination of ambition and blind faith, high school would have been a completely different experience for them. I can look at the field hockey seniors, the drama cast, or the Photo classes, and see the same lesson mirrored throughout all these vastly different groups. Every single one of these people’s lives would have been different had it not been for some sort of step they took. They embraced the uniqueness and greatness of Pingry and allowed it to create a life-long, life-changing experience for them.
The cheesiness of what I just said was perfect for that stage and that panel, but some of you might be scoffing and thinking, “Tell me something I don’t know.” To that I would say, I hope you don’t know all of this already. I hope you aren’t reading this and already looking at the title of the next reflection because you already know exactly what I am talking about. I say this because if you know all of this already, then you are done with high school. I truly hope the only people that can empathize with these things are my fellow seniors, because if you aren’t a member of the Class of 2018 and you think you already know what I am talking about, then you are both wrong and doing something wrong.
If you are able to see all of this without having even entered your senior year yet, then I contest that you have failed at living by what I said above: you have not truly made Pingry all that it can be for you. I feel I can say this with confidence because the only reason I realize all these things is because my time at Pingry is now over. Now that my time as a proud Pingry School lifer has come to a close, I feel as if I have gained an understanding of the true power of being a Pingry graduate, and I know that for those who don’t see it now, they will see it five years down the road, when they are trying to get a job and their Pingry diploma is what gets them an interview. Or ten years down the road when they are wearing a Pingry hat in some exotic place and they meet a fellow alum. I know Pingry has provided me with a solid foundation for a great future, but I also know that I will treasure Pingry much more for the invaluable experiences and memories that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. All of these thoughts have come in reflection, and the weight of them has only truly struck me because I am now able to look back at Pingry, and not around at Pingry. That is one of many things that makes saying goodbye so sad—that my fullest and deepest gratitude and appreciation for this school has only come in hindsight.
Lastly, to the Class of 2018, I would just like to say thank you. Whether you know it or not, you have done more for me than I could ever tell you, and so much more than I could ever thank you for. I know you are all going to amazing things in your life. I could say a lot more in this time, but since I started this reflection talking about greatness and passion, I figure why not close on the same theme. I have always loved this Pat Tillman quote, and feel that it perfectly encapsulates my, and Pat Tillman’s, message for the future: “Passion makes life interesting, ignites our soul, fuels our love, carries our friendship, stimulates our intellect, and pushes our limits.”
Jun 10, 2018 | Opinion, Senior Reflections
By Jenny Coyne ’18
This year I started journaling. Every night, after I finished up my WebAssign problem sets, English poetry journals, and French causettes, I would crawl into my bed and begin my nightly reflection. My journal was not littered with earth shattering insights or existential truths. It was not filled with the emotional toil of a teenage girl living in the suburbs. It was not a collection of doodles. So, what was it? What did I commit myself to writing?
Every night, I wrote strictly pragmatic reflections that described my daily actions; sometimes, the opening lines became rather tedious. Here a collection of my best: “Wow, I hate Church” (sorry Mom and Dad!), “What a day. It was Tuesday, but felt like a Monday” (how insightful, Jenny.), “Today was my first water main day!” (remember that?). The following pages of handwritten paragraphs document my day, describing classes, free times, sports practices, and homework.
I began writing with the intention of reading my journal in the future, jumping back in time to any specific day and being able to relive it in memory. As I was writing, this seemed like a far-off and distant goal. Spending time every night to record what seemed like the basic motions of everyday life was hard to do. However, now I have one of the first chances to reap the benefits of my strictly pragmatic journal. I want to share my journal entry from one of my favorite days of senior year: February 1, 2018.
TODAY WAS MY JOURNAL CLUB PRESENTATION! I woke up at 5:55 AM because I wanted to get to school at 7:00 for a 7:25 start. So, I showered, put on my outfit, and ate breakfast with Mom. In my new business look, I felt like a put together boss lady. I got to school at seven and made some last-minute adjustments to my slides (I actually changed the entire group delay dispersion section). Then I went down to the lab to get a beaker for the bent pencil refraction example. When I got back up to the faculty lounge at 7:05 for a 7:25 start, the room was locked, and there was no journal club member in sight. Finally, a member of the kitchen staff came in, and I started rearranging the furniture. Too bad that wasn’t done earlier!
As 7:25 approached, people started to trickle in, and guess who was the first to arrive? Jamie! With minty mint tea! BOI! A lot of my other friends came too: Josie, Shruti, Alexis, Sana, Clyde, Helen and Kevin Ma, Kassidy, Naiyah, and more! It was so cool to have so many of my friends there to support me. Wow, I love Pingry. I really wanted people to come, but I didn’t want to seem self-important. The presentation itself went well. I started out with an Oprah meme and diffraction grating glasses. Then we talked about light as a wave, reflection and refraction, and finally the paper itself: “A broadband achromatic metalens for focusing and imaging in the visible.” My presentation was just about 30 minutes long, a little too long, but I had fun! I was so touched that so many of my friends came (and brought my favorite tea!).
After the presentation I was floating on a high. Mom, Dad, and I went out to Starbucks for breakfast. We saw Mrs. Simon, mother of Alli Simon, and we talked about Handbells. At school, I had physics, Chinese, and math, along with a credit union meeting, iRT, and practice. A long but super fun day!
Because I loved presenting at Journal Club so much, I think that I might want to be a professor when I grow up. So now, I have three things: work at NASA, be an architect, and be a professor!
There are a couple of conclusions that I can draw from this entry, most of which are fairly obvious and you, as a reader, probably expect to see in a senior reflection. 1) At Pingry, I fostered amazing friendships that grew into real networks of support. 2) Clubs at Pingry, like Journal Club, give us all opportunities to deeply explore our interests and share our findings with others. 3) Starbucks is literally a breeding ground for Pingry connections. Talking to Mrs. Simon about Handbells was a highlight of my day!
To me, this journal entry reveals something much bigger. This journal entry was just another day in my life. When I was rereading this entry, I was shocked by the tone of normalcy. Besides the capitalized introductory sentence “TODAY WAS MY JOURNAL CLUB PRESENTATION.” and the “Wow, I love Pingry,” nothing in the entry communicated anything extraordinary. I never once said “This was an amazing day.” To me, presenting on premier scientific literature at 7:30, going out to breakfast with my parents, attending classes, meetings, and swim practice constituted a standard day. Looking back on it, February 1, 2018 would be considered an amazing day under nearly any circumstances other than my Pingry student perspective. It was a day that I decided academia could be a career, a day in which I was able to spend time with my parents, and a day in which friends loved and supported me, but to me it was a day that was filled with what seemed to be normalcy.
At Pingry, the extraordinary experiences are so often that they appear normal and average. In what universe does a seventeen-year-old hustle from optical physics to millennium handbells to the financial world to cancer mutation to swim practice? At Pingry, you can do it all, and it seems normal. However, on February 1, 2018, I groaned as I sat in bed and dreaded writing my entry for the day. I did not consider that day to be particularly extraordinary, and I even questioned if anything noteworthy had actually happened. Today, I know the answer. It is only with the perspective of time—and those seemingly tedious and dumb journal entries—that I have been able to appreciate the extraordinarily ordinary life that Pingry gave me.
