A few weeks ago, I got to participate in my first Pingry Career Day; I found it to be just what I expected. The alumni were engaging, knowledgeable, and insightful, and my only complaint was that I didn’t get to spend enough time with them. Overall, it was a great experience.
But, as I left each room, I thought about the speakers’ thoughts on college education and the value of Pingry. Most said they did not learn the knowledge they use on a daily basis in college or at Pingry, but instead entirely on the job. To these speakers, their college education was more of a logic exercise than a specific skill-set.
Of course, this heavily depends on the line of work one goes into. Somebody interested in researching computer science would obviously find it beneficial to study computer science in college, while somebody planning to work in an oil field would find a chemical engineering major useful as well. Though, in the panels I attended—entrepreneurship, medicine, and management consulting—only a few of the speakers had degrees that specifically related to their fields.
The skills that were oft-cited by my speakers were logic, communication, and problem solving. While a college education can help develop these skills, they are learned through practice rather than lectures.
This made me think about the value of Pingry’s curriculum in a modern workforce from a student’s perspective. The number of fields that rely on technology to do the bulk of the work and calculations is already high and constantly increasing. The understanding of a process has become more important than simply memorizing the result. So, is the typical Pingry class supportive of that goal?
The answer is complicated and depends on who you ask. The College Board would probably wax and wane on how useful its AP Exams are, but given its insistence that the SAT is a meaningful predictor of student competence, I take it with a grain of salt. I took the AP World History exam last year, and I found that simply memorizing all the events and dates is much more helpful for the exam than understanding why something happened. If I had never taken World History 9 or 10, I would probably have an exceedingly shallow knowledge of World History based on the exam. My AP Calculus BC exam featured problems about counting the number of plankton in water; if a real ecologist was studying those organisms, I would hope they weren’t using vague estimation methods like the ones the AP asked me to use.
But does this formulaic learning extend to Pingry’s AP courses themselves? Some, perhaps, more than others. While AP Calculus BC is definitely a well-taught and engaging class, the curriculum is tied to the AP course schedule, which means the course can’t go into as much depth as I might have liked. In AP Physics this year, we glossed over some in-depth analyses of topics like rotation and air resistance because of the number of topics that need to be covered for the AP Mechanics exam. This is in no way the fault of the teachers; it’s just that the AP tends to reward specific application of knowledge (that often has little real-world significance) rather than sound logic, good communication, and problem solving skills that one might actually use in a job.
Pingry’s courses are meant to prepare students for specializing in college, but I often feel as if those courses ought to be more organic and less tied down.
Here’s a radical solution: get rid of AP-designation courses. Numerous independent schools have eliminated AP courses entirely, and I don’t think it’s too revolutionary for Pingry to follow suit. Pingry prides itself on letting teachers develop their own curriculum. Non-AP classes, such as Biology II Honors, tend to include case studies and real-world projects, while AP United States History has to speed through Reconstruction to get to the 1920s by March.
Pingry teachers could have much more control over their lesson plans and replace tests with papers, essays, and projects (as I discussed in my last opinion here). Pingry can still host AP exams for students who want to demonstrate their aptitude for colleges; it just shouldn’t have to teach to the test.
I don’t expect Pingry to drop all AP courses tomorrow and replace them with totally faculty-and student-driven ideas. However, I hope that Pingry takes note of the changing world and skillsets and ultimately realizes that the College Board’s outdated conceptions might not be sufficient anymore.
Four out of five people will be affected by a mental illness or neurological disorder at some point in their lives. Whether you or a loved one is affected, the mental health crisis has touched the life of every single human, placing mental disorders in the foreground of global health issues. However, despite the extent to which mental illness permeates our society, significant improvement will not be possible until we erase the stigma surrounding it. Mental illnesses aren’t uncommon, so why are we still speaking about them in hushed tones and behind closed doors? Why don’t we send our ‘thoughts and prayers’ to people suffering from debilitating bouts of mental illness? And why are we so afraid to speak up about our mental health problems?
The answer lies deep within centuries of cultural stigma. In the Middle Ages, mental disorders were thought to be a punishment from God or a form of demonic possession. People who displayed symptoms were burnt at the stake or locked up as a means to control them. Although science and philosophy have since shown that mental illness is a medical condition, thousands were still persecuted in Nazi Germany due to their condition. Even more recently, people with mental disorders have been cast aside and locked away in insane asylums because others were afraid of them. They were thought to be crazy, violent, and dangerous.
Since then, society has shown some progress. Doctors and medical organizations now recognize mental illness as a genuine health problem that can be treated using therapy, medication, self-help, and rehabilitation. Treatment and support systems are more available than ever before; and yet, the people who need them may never receive them because of this prevailing cultural stigma. The false perceptions and stereotypes surrounding mental illnesses isolates victims and only makes them sicker. This is common around the world, with the stain that mental illness carries making people afraid to disclose their problems to their families. As a result, they end up hiding symptoms and sweeping their illnesses under the carpet, which only hinders recovery. People are so afraid of being seen as “crazy” or “weird” that 60% of people with known mental health disorders never end up receiving help from a mental health professional (Worldwide Health Organization). This is even worse in developing countries, where that percentage reaches 90%.
In addition, media and popular culture paint a misleading picture, through fear-mongering movies like “Split,” which present a character with a dissociative identity disorder as dangerous, or shows like “13 Reasons Why,” which dehumanize characters with depression and glorify suicide. With negative portrayals consuming youth entertainment, there aren’t enough positive portrayals that accurately describe what it’s like to have or support someone who has a mental illness. Misrepresentation and underrepresentation are what leave people uneducated in the subject matter, making them perhaps more likely to distance friends who have mental health problems– as we are always scared of things we don’t understand.
So, when someone confides in a loved one that they are suffering, the reactions are often
insensitive. Even in families who understand and legitimize mental illness, there is hesitancy around getting professional help because it makes people feel that they have failed. In reality, mental illnesses are never a personal failure—they are real illnesses that reflect nothing about the character of a person. We must treat sufferers the same way we treat people with other illnesses: with kindness, empathy, and concern. But widespread change can only happen through education and awareness. The issue lies in a lack of knowledge and understanding, and teenagers are particularly afflicted. Especially in high school, the stressful atmosphere and clash of cultures creates a community where illnesses go untreated all the time. Therefore, it is our generation’s responsibility to help educate parents and students on the reality of mental illness. We must stop speaking in hushed tones and, instead, create an accepting and supportive community. As students, it is our responsibility to step up and be there for our friends when they need it, show empathy and concern, and foster an open dialogue between parents, students, teachers, and healthcare professionals about mental health.
“You shouldn’t go outside without pepper spray,” my dad tells me over lunch.
“Nothing is going to happen,” I say.
“Just be careful.”
I sigh, grab the small canister of Halt! that sits on my desk, and exit the house for my quarantine walk. I feel safe, because I know my new neighbors across the street are Asian-American, and so is the other house five doors down. There is a new house being built on the next street over and the new family stood outside their house admiring the construction, and I smile at them. However, the owners of that new house are not as kind, and throw me one of the nastiest looks I think I have ever seen.
I feel the can shift around in my jacket pocket.
I then see a mother walking with her children and a dog, and then one of the other neighbors steps out of her house with her dog, joins the mother and her children, and gives them each a hug. I laugh internally, thinking that they are breaking social distancing rules, but just as they noticed me they moved to the other side of the street. I tried not to notice the occasional glance back from the two adults.
I don’t take that route anymore when I walk by myself. An overreaction? Maybe. I don’t think they’re going to hurt me. I just don’t want to have to go through that again. The shame, the feeling that I need to somehow cover my face. These thoughts have become my new norm.
I have always believed in activism and utilizing our freedom of speech to speak up about topics which are important. While I have been lucky enough to be able to avoid the violent discrimination resulting from the coronavirus toward Asian-Americans, I’ve been pretty vocal about some of the hate crimes that have happened to members of my community, as well as the wider Asian community worldwide. There was the stabbing of a Burmese family in a Sam’s Club; a gun drawn at a Korean university student who had confronted someone for posting coronavirus pamphlets on his dorm room door; man killed as a result of suspected foul play from his neighbor; people beat up in Philadelphia and New York City for not wearing a mask; and the ones who got beat up for wearing one. Unfortunately, these instances only name a few examples.
Comments online about these hate crimes are dominated by people saying things like, “Wow, now you know how all the other minorities feel,” or my personal favorite, “You’re mad now that you got your honorary white person card revoked huh?”
This comment struck me. I think I always subconsciously felt it, but I feel like Asian-Americans aren’t always treated as people of color (POC) in this country. Rather, I view that we are treated as people of color when it is advantageous for a certain view, and viewed as beneficiaries of white privilege at other times. It’s why the system of affirmative action in universities goes against us, but also the same reason we are encouraged to “stand together as minorities” when other groups have their own activist movements. It’s also why politicians use us as a “model minority” for other minorities when those politicians cannot provide adequate support for broken systems.
A large part of this sometimes-POC sometimes-white-privilege dynamic stems from a certain Asian-American community wide unwillingness to “make trouble.” For instance, one of my Asian-American friends encountered a situation where a racist comment was made, and when I encouraged her to speak up, she said her parents didn’t want her to make trouble. This problem with being afraid of conflict is something I’ve heard countless times. It’s why a lot of the hate crimes that are happening now aren’t being reported on by major news media networks like CNN, MSNBC, or FOX. I feel like most of the country mistakes Asian-Americans’ unwillingness to bring about conflict with us not encountering any.
As a leader of the Asian Student Union, this time has brought many questions to me from other members of the community. “What should we do?” and “How do we stay safe?” are all things that younger students, and friends outside Pingry have asked me. I don’t have the answers, and part of me feels like I should as someone who is vocal about Asian-American topics. These aren’t questions I’ve had to ask myself until now. I started the ASU with my friends to enact dialogue and some shift in thought, even if it was just among members of our small Pingry community. I wanted to encourage my peers to recognize and stand up for discrimination, but most importantly to find the courage to stand up for themselves regardless of their identifiers. I never could have expected that the greatest test of my activism would come now. Suddenly, as if overnight, the sphere of these discussions have left the little safe haven that I have helped create in Room 310 at a small private school in Basking Ridge. They feel much more real now, which is scary at the same time as it is empowering. That call to action we’ve been waiting for, that spark that we’ve been hoping will ignite, finally came. It’s time for us to enact the change we wanted to see in our own communities.
I’ve faced a lot of criticism from those around me, those who think I’m being too vocal about the situation at hand, those who think my words aren’t constructive action against the crimes being committed. I’ve even been told that the racism that we are seeing as a result of the coronavirus is justified due to the horrible actions the Chinese government is taking against Africans in China. However, groups pointing fingers at each other is the thing that is least constructive. Racism is racism, no matter which group is committing it, and it should be condemned, not based on the political climate in which it takes place, but for the morals that we as a society have been trying to progress.
It’s February 1979. The phone rings. The clock reads 3 a.m. as my grandfather holds it up to his ear. It’s 11:30 a.m. in Iran, where the Shah, Mohammad Raza Pahlavi, had fled in response to insurgency a month earlier. At the time, my grandfather was working for American Bell International, an AT&T subsidiary tasked with facilitating the improvement of telephone and communication systems in Iran. However, with the overthrow of Pahlavi and the rise of Ayatollah Khomeini, AT&T’s project ceased. Over the next few weeks, my grandfather, who handled insurance for the company, worked to repossess valuables left by AT&T employees, who were forced to leave their apartments in Iran following the fall of the Shah. After finding where workers had left clothing, jewelry, pets, and more, my grandfather transferred that information to employees still in Iran, in hopes of reclaiming their belongings.
Prior to the winter of 1979, during the height of AT&T’s project in Iran, U.S. relations with the country were bolstered. The pro-Western policies of Pahlavi fit American economic interests, specifically in regards to the oil industry. However, to many Iranians, the Shah’s policies felt repressive and tyrannical. The “White Revolution,” a number of reforms established by Pahlavi in the early 1960s, implemented land redistribution, and the expansion of women’s rights. These policies were quickly met with popular dissent, as the poor found little relief. By the end of the Shah’s reign, the U.S. appeared to support a leader unpopular with his own people. Once Pahlavi fled, his favorable relations with the U.S. seemed to continue, much to the resentment of Iranians. U.S. President Jimmy Carter went so far as to allow Pahlavi into the U.S. to receive cancer treatment.
In November of 1979, in retaliation for Carter’s action, Iranian students took 66 Americans hostage at the U.S Embassy in the Iranian capital of Tehran. The crisis, which lasted 344 days but ultimately ended in the safe return of the hostages, began a long history of strained relations between the U.S. and Iran.
These historic tensions were in the spotlight this January, when President Trump ordered an airstrike that killed Iranian general Qasem Soleimani. After the strike, Trump threatened to carry out further attacks. On Twitter, he referred back to the 1979 crisis, noting that the 52 Iranian sites that had been identified as targets represented “the 52 American hostages taken by Iran many years ago.” Many Iranians, who considered Soleimani a hero, were quick to declare revenge and violence against the U.S. However, President Trump and his administration have continued to justify the act as a preemptive attack against a supposed plan of Soleimani to strike a U.S. embassy.
Over 40 years after the overthrow of the Shah and the consequent American hostage crisis, U.S.-Iran relations seem rockier than ever. Under President Obama in 2013, the countries attempted reconciliation through the Iran Nuclear Deal, which outlined that Iran would restrict their nuclear activities. In 2018, however, President Trump abandoned the plan, and the two countries have faced growing tension and subsequent violence over the past few years. Now, after Soleimani’s death, there seems to be no end in sight.
Thus, the question remains: is compromise between the U.S. and Iran possible? Is an amicable relationship on the horizon, or will we continue towards aggression and animosity? To me, the two countries have grown too divisive to ever find a real compromise, and the U.S. does not have a compelling reason to concede to the Iranian government. When President George W. Bush coined Iran one-third of the “axis of evil,” it was clear the United States viewed the country’s regime as radical and dangerous; the government has been accused of supporting terrorism and seeking to bolster weapons of mass destruction. Thus, our government doesn’t owe the Iranian government diplomacy, but it does have a responsibility to support the Iranian people. As a result of economic sanctions placed on Iran in 2018, its people have faced an economic recession, rising prices, and stagnant economic growth. As innocent people suffer, the U.S. government seeks to break a regime, without thinking of the consequences for the average citizen. So, while I believe I will never see a time like my grandfather’s, where the United States and Iran came together for economic gain, I do believe it’s possible for our government to protect itself against Iranian threats while still treating the Iranian people humanely.
I have a very close relationship with my parents. I’m open to them about almost everything, and they encourage and support me. Ever since I can remember, they’ve been drilling the importance of hard work, compassion, and virtue into my head to make me the person I am today.
However, almost every month, we get into the same argument. Tired from a long week of school, I decide to destress a bit over the weekend by taking a couple of extra hours of free time. My parents will notice, and tell me, “You never have time to finish your extracurriculars during the weekdays. Why not catch up now?” They inevitably bring up how friends from other schools are spending six hours a day on homework. “Don’t you think you’re too relaxed?” they ask. “You’re in junior year. You should be working harder than this.”
It’s not just my parents that have this mentality. Sometimes, when I go to bed, I’m tempted to bring my laptop with me and outline that essay due in a couple of weeks. When we get school days off, I finish all my work by mid-afternoon, but end up spending the rest of the day strangely tense. Why do I have so much free time? Was there something assigned in class when I wasn’t paying attention? Is there a project I can plan out? Am I too relaxed?
The thing is, I’m fairly happy with how my junior year is going. When I was little, I was always told to “work hard and play hard,” and I think I’ve found a good balance of both working and playing. I’m managing my time a lot better than I have in the past, and I’m finding it easier to maintain decent grades while keeping up with other parts of my life. Maybe I could put a little more time into clubs, or study a bit harder in a class or two, but overall, I’m satisfied.
Why, then, is being “too relaxed” a bad thing? Is it lazy or irresponsible to take extra time to unwind and just mindlessly lose myself in a movie for a few hours if I’ve finished all my work for the day? I could use that time to start future assignments, but am I obligated to? It’s like there’s a set bar of stress that I must be above; if I’m not stressed enough, no matter how well I’m doing in school, I must work harder.
This mindset is far from uncommon. At Pingry there’s a constant pressure to get ahead. Some of us jokingly compete over who got the least amount of sleep the past night. Some of us take the hardest classes we can, even if we’re not actually interested in them because we’re warned of the drop in rigor on our transcripts. Since when has stress become the determining factor for success?
Theoretically, there isn’t really a limit to how much effort I could put into studying. I could stay up a few hours later into the night reviewing for a test in order to get that perfect score. I could decide to go over my essay a couple more times over the weekend instead of spending time with a friend.
If I did, though, what would be the point? Neglecting my happiness in order to better my chances of getting into a good university might be more “productive,” but personal experience has taught me that I’d end up regretting it. A few years ago, I prioritized school over my happiness and my best friends. During that time, I lost sight of why I was studying in the first place, and I don’t intend on making the same mistake again.
This isn’t to say that we should all stop studying hard. We should, however, be able to set achievable standards for ourselves––somewhere we can stop and say, “good enough.” If we’re all just trying to live a happy and fulfilling life, is throwing away all of our current happiness really worth it? At what point do we stop sacrificing our present for a so-called “better future?”
“What’s even the point of history class? Nothing actually matters now.”
Last year, I took the World History 9 course, a survey of “history from the emergence of civilization in ancient Mesopotamia to the Age of Exploration.” I thought it was a fascinating class, but evidently, at least one other student didn’t share my sentiments. I’ve heard people call it “boring” or “not important” due to the “ancient” part of this ancient history class. Could a change of the time period remedy this issue?
The history curriculum at our school is now undergoing a complete overhaul, which began this school year. The first remake has been for World History 9, which now covers the years 1200-1914. Next year, World History 10 will pick up from the year 1900 and end in 2001. When asked about the reason behind removing ancient history from the curriculum, History Department Chair Dr. Jones said, “more modern history seems to resonate with students more, and we wanted to get students interested in the study of history, while ancient history, especially philosophy, doesn’t have as much resonance with students.”
Ancient history can seem boring or unimportant to some people, as what happened so long ago seems too far away to affect our lives. Written history was scant, leaving historians to search in vain for the next clue to unlock the secrets of an ancient empire. Modern history is much more recent and relevant to the present day because its revolutions and wars have shaped our lives. We can see the effects that specific events have caused, which can cause students to feel that modern history is much more important and pertinent. Students then may be more interested in modern history, increasing the amount of engagement and activity in class.
However, the revised World History 9 and previous World History 10 curriculums overlap significantly this year, with both courses essentially offering the same material as implementing two new courses within the same year is nigh impossible. Ancient history has been removed from the high school history curriculum, leaving students without the foundational knowledge of civilization and how the Western world rose to power.
Modern history is extremely relevant and is crucial to learn, but I believe that we cannot simply push ancient history to the side. The complexity of modern European history is extremely challenging and demands a thorough understanding. Without a foundational knowledge of how the West became the dominant power, students may not fully comprehend Europe’s reign of dominance and the events that occurred during this time.
Another key issue to consider is Eurocentrism, which is a major concern facing both teachers and students. From my experience in the now-defunct World History 9, the class did not overly focus on one specific country or continent; instead, it provided a broad but thorough explanation of early history. Indeed, according to its class description, the course focused on “developments in the Middle East, the ancient Mediterranean, Asia, Africa, pre-Columbian America, and medieval Europe, culminating with the European Renaissance and Reformation and the beginnings of the modern world.” In contrast, my experience in World History 10 so far is one that is primarily centered around Europe or the Western world. The revised World History 9 course now begins with the Mongol civilization, the bridge between the East and West, so freshmen will not be exposed to the many non-European civilizations, such as Mesopotamia, that preceded this era. Therefore, this Eurocentrism, or absence of the history of certain key regions and civilizations, may lead students to believe that Europe was always the dominant continent throughout history.
Fortunately, the History Department is working towards preventing the freshman history course from being too Eurocentric, with an explicit focus on the global aspect of World History.
The revised history curriculum is also beneficial in allowing students to pursue a more specialized education. Speaking on why the ancient history sections were removed, Dr. Jones said, “it’s always a struggle between depth versus breadth; if you cover a ton, can you study anything in-depth? It’s a constant struggle.” By removing ancient history, students will most likely have one more year or semester to take focused courses on specific topics, such as Asian History. This is a tremendous opportunity to learn something in-depth, once again going back to the depth versus breadth conflict. For those of us that truly are passionate about ancient history, an elective course on the topic can be created. This elective would cover the same time period as the old World History 9 course but in much greater detail. Therefore, students that are enthusiastic about this subject will have the chance to learn what they love, further increasing the engagement and involvement in history.
History is a subject that requires active student engagement. Despite my captivation with ancient history, I understand that many other students simply weren’t interested in the old World History 9 course.
Is ancient history necessary? I’m not sure, but I’m willing to put it aside for the benefit of all. Maybe it’s time we focus on the future instead of the past.
When I entered Pingry as a Form III student, I was excited to engage in the team-based, critical-thinking-style learning that Pingry has splashed all over its marketing materials. I bought into the idea of building my foundational knowledge of science and humanities in discussion-based classes. These visions were mostly fulfilled, and I distinctly remember bragging to one of my eighth grade buddies about how different the intellectual discourse was at Pingry.
Experiential learning manifests itself in different ways. From the classroom to research opportunities to global field studies, Pingry has put considerable effort into providing a different type of high school education. However, there is one factor that noticeably lags behind these advancements: tests and assessments. In freshman year, most students had seven final exams. In sophomore year, that number decreased, but remained relatively high (around four to six). Meanwhile, the Pingry Middle School has eliminated finals in favor of Project Week.
Of course, Middle School Project Week isn’t comparable to the capstone assessments needed in the Upper School. However, the concept of a group-based final intrigues me. It led me to think about the nature of tests we have currently at Pingry. While tests may vary by teacher and subject, most contain at least some amount of memorization-based questions. I find these questions, although easier, to be less beneficial to my overall understanding of material than a project or essay. In the internet age, memorization and the ability to recall facts are quickly losing their value. The internet can offer more information at a faster rate than any human can, and with fewer errors.
Because the College Board has completely missed the boat on understanding-based learning, drilling has become necessary in preparation for an AP course or an SAT Subject Test. Nevertheless, Pingry is supposed to be helming that boat, and I wonder what percentage of Pingry tests can be completed with a few Google searches. To better prepare students for the real world, research papers and presentations should replace at least a few tests in each subject.
My first suggestion, the research paper or critical essay, would be beneficial because it serves as a unique application of topics learned in the Pingry classrooms. For example, World History 10 papers are well-respected because topic selection, research, outlining, and writing is done entirely by the student. This allows the teacher to measure a student’s mastery, rather than their ability to regurgitate information. I also believe that the in-class essay ought to be phased out to some extent. Given the tight time constraints, a significant portion of an in-class essay is spent on collating the background facts, leaving much too little time to develop a complex and multifaceted argument. The in-class essay is further hurt by the prohibition of outside research. This forces the entire class to draw from the same bank of information, thus limiting the scope of their arguments.
My second suggestion, the presentation, is a useful tool because it requires brevity and strong communication skills. For example, a teacher could assign groups of students to different days in the homework syllabus, and that group would present the material. This would both demonstrate the students’ understanding and function as a transition into classroom material.
While these changes may seem too drastic to be implemented immediately, I think they should be kept in mind if Pingry wants to keep up its experiential and intellectual style of education. I don’t believe that Pingry’s current assessment system is problematic by any stretch; I simply believe that it is time for the traditional test to step back and let project-based learning have some time in the spotlight.
Last year, my history teacher started the year with a thought experiment. He told our class, “History is irrelevant. If the only reason why we learn history is not to repeat the mistakes of the past, then in today’s world, it is useless and everything you learn in this class is irrelevant. You’re much better off taking useful subjects like science and math.”
I was taken aback by this statement. History has always been one of my favorite subjects, and I have always enjoyed learning about various civilizations and how past events have shaped the world today.
Now, I was told, by a history teacher, that the subject I loved the most was useless. It was being slowly replaced by new cutting edge STEM subjects. In a similar vein, at the beginning of my English class this year, we discussed the waning role of English and other humanities subjects in our modern world, especially as STEM subjects take center stage in schools.
STEM is incredibly important in our world today, and it is crucial that students learn these types of skills in order to have success in our modern world. Pingry has recognized the importance of STEM subjects and has successfully created a comprehensive science curriculum, which teaches students everything from the mechanisms of cancer to advanced physics. Research opportunities also offer Pingry students access to cutting edge science, whether it be through their science classes, the molecular biology research class, or the many IRT projects offered. Pingry’s technology labs are also similarly well equipped, with brand new laser cutters, 3D printers, and VR tech.
Needless to say, Pingry’s investment in STEM has paid off. Pingry was ranked by Newsweek as 150th out of the top 500 STEM schools across America. Although this is great news for Pingry, much of this success has come at the expense of the humanities.
In our STEM driven world, the humanities still play an important role in the development and growth of human society. It was humanities that brought our civilization out of the Dark Ages and into the Renaissance with the re-discovery of Ancient Greek and Roman teachings. Humanities allow us to understand ourselves better and teach individuals how to think creatively and critically. Whether it is poetry or the arts, humanities allow us to learn more about the human condition. That is something STEM cannot do.
Pingry’s efforts to make sure humanities are just as important as STEM subjects have been successful this year. With the expansion of HIRT, humanities at Pingry are being refreshed. HIRT serves as a means for students to apply techniques learned from STEM subjects to humanities, which brings a fresh perspective to humanities at Pingry. New groups this year include Russian Literature, Gentrification in Jersey City, and many more new and exciting projects. As a member of the Children’s Literature HIRT, I have so far enjoyed this new approach to humanities, and together with my group, I have conducted intensive research into altruism in young children using stories collected from lower schoolers at Short Hills.
This new fusion of STEM and Humanities is an excellent model of how humanities can be taught to students effectively in the 21st century. By combining both techniques learned from STEM fields and applying them to humanities, this can be an effective way of teaching students the value of humanities through a new lens.
At the end of my freshman year, we did an exercise in my history class where we again discussed the purpose of studying history and other humanities subjects. My class decided that humanities are important because they enable us to understand other people and cultures through learning about the human condition and people’s experiences. Whether it is reading stories or poems, learning about history, or making art, humanities allow us to learn about what makes us human, and helps us discover the accomplishments of the past, understand the world we live in, and arms us with the tools to build the future. The importance of humanities cannot be forgotten as we move deeper into this century, and I applaud Pingry’s steps to teach humanities to students in a cutting edge and modern way.
When people found out about our plans to start the Asian Student Union, some had asked me why I cared so much or wondered if I only started the group to boost my college application. The truth is, I was upset that the issues I cared about were considered “unimportant.” There was one instance when I reported a student in class who was repeating random offensive syllables and asking me if they meant anything in Mandarin despite me telling them to stop. After my talk with the administration, I never even received an apology from the student.
Another time I felt that issues were cast aside was when the Asian parents at this school felt upset and met with the administration about an inappropriate book that was added to the English curriculum; their concern was mitigated and turned into a social media ploy, an Instagram post showing rows of upset parents on the official school page, captioned happily about how the diversity staff was meeting with the parents of the Chinese-American community. The post was promptly deleted when met with backlash.
Overall, I felt upset with how these issues had been ignored, and no one had tried to reach a true solution.
Unfortunately, ignorance from the administration has been a common theme in Pingry’s history, not with just Asian-American issues, but with issues regarding multiple communities. Instead of working to a solution, I have noticed that Pingry tries to reach “the most politically safe” answer instead. I recently found this trend has been happening for a long time.
About a month ago I stumbled upon a 1990 New York Times article, titled “Private Schools Wrestling With Diversity and Identities,” in which the author talked about diversity-based issues at a number of institutions in our area. A large portion of these issues were about Pingry. The article mentions one instance where the Jewish community at Pingry had wanted to light a menorah next to the yule candle at the annual Winter Festival, and how their request had been met with a “peace candle,” which was supposed to represent the yule candle and the menorah.
Lighting a peace candle didn’t really solve the issue, which was about truly representing the Jewish community at the school during the festival. Instead, this was the most “politically safe” response to the issue. People may ask, why would a politically safe response be bad? It doesn’t hurt anyone and nobody can be offended. While this may be partly true, the most politically safe response doesn’t solve the issue. Instead of figuring out how to make sure that the various groups will feel represented at the school, a politically neutral solution almost seems insulting. It is as if the problem is too insignificant to handle head-on. A neutral solution says, “we aren’t offending anyone, so will everyone get off our case?”
At a school that is as diverse as ours, it is very possible for a student to feel ignored, and their issues can slip through the cracks. Our school is proud that we have the GSA, the Black Student Union, and as of this year, the Asian Student Union. But what about all the identifiers in between? How will a student know where to turn to when they have an issue they want to share with the school that doesn’t fall within these groups? I realize that only a few months ago, this is how I felt at the school. Affinity groups keep the issue within the community, but those topics never get shared outside. Most groups are never covered by the various “diversity workshops” advisories must complete. There is no framework at this school to discuss many important issues that don’t fall within these pre-existing groups.
My co-founders and I started the Asian Student Union because we didn’t want future Asian-American students feeling that there was nothing to support them, as that is how we have previously felt. If Pingry wants to be a genuinely inclusive place, it needs to take its various communities’ issues to heart. For instance, when I reported a very direct act of prejudice, the school should have done its best to appropriately handle the situation instead of letting it go with no consequences. Pingry needs to fully address issues like these––otherwise, the school would not be supporting its students. Additionally, I implore this institution to genuinely solve problems, rather than finding a political “peace candle” solution that, in the end, makes nobody happy. Speak to students who have been affected one-on-one, reach out to the parents to gauge their opinions more often, and act on their feedback. Most importantly, though, encourage dialogue regarding all groups––not just a select few. And to you, reader, who potentially has something to say buried within the depths of your silence, my advice is to say it loud and clear. If there’s no framework here, build it. If it’s never been done here before, do it. Make it known that you will not be ignored and that you are the change we need at this school to truly make this community one that you are a part of.
As a Pingry student, I experience a lot of stress. From essays to tests to presentations to quizzes, the work never seems to stop piling on. However, there is a common theme in the stress that my peers and I experience: poor timing.
Over the past few years, I’ve started to notice that assessments come in big stressful waves, usually lasting a week or so. One week might be pretty uneventful, with a lull in big assessments and stress levels on the decline. Then, before you know it, you have six tests in one week, not to mention a paper due for English class. Looking at my planner, plenty of weeks are completely covered in the red ink that signifies a large test or essay, while others are almost empty of it. This led me to ask myself: why can’t all of this work be divided up evenly between the weeks?
Students at Pingry are constantly caught between two extremes– weeks packed with work followed by others with almost none – at the expense of their mental health, free time, and success in school. During busier weeks, the challenge for dividing one’s time among different assignments becomes greater than ever. Instead of being able to focus on one thing and achieve success in that area, students are forced to ask themselves: “Should I study for my math test or should I finish my English paper?” This conflict can cause students to do poorly on some assignments when in reality, they just didn’t have enough time. Some may argue that time management isn’t all that hard, and that students should just buck up and bear the weight of these stressful weeks. However, we are often given short notice about assignments, and even with proper notice, too many tests can still leave students in sticky situations.
If more consideration was put into the timing of tests, there would be numerous benefits for students and teachers alike. Students could put more attention into individual assignments and perform better, rather than just throwing as much time as possible into a heaping pile of essays and tests. Teachers would then see a more realistic evaluation of a student’s knowledge. Most of all, students’ stress would decrease if their large assessments were divided up more evenly.
To improve assessment timing, I suggest creating new rules similar to the Three-Assessment Rule (if you have three major assessments in one day, you can opt to move one of them). One possible rule could be: if students have more than five assessments in a week, they can opt to move one of them to the next week. Especially leading up to breaks, where students are faced with six or seven assessments in a week, this rule could benefit the community greatly. Another possible addition could be a universal day each week where assessments are prohibited. This would give students a “day off”, allowing them to study up on assessments they have in following days.
With the faculty’s goal for this year being student wellness, poorly timed assessments is a problem that needs to be solved. However, if given enough attention, addressing this issue has the potential to benefit Pingry as a whole. It would certainly be a big step towards improving the mental health and wellness of students.
