Mar 24, 2019 | Editorial, Opinion
By Rashida Mohammed ’19
The widely-known novel Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain has recently been eliminated from Pingry’s American Literature curriculum. Additionally, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, which was on the book list for World Literature sent out this past summer, was not taught in any of the World Literature periods. This is following what seems to be a rising trend in the United States of removing books from English classrooms. Many complaints about the appropriateness of these texts or those similar often come from black parents (such was the case in The Duluth school district in Minnesota), black students (like those in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania), or the NAACP, which has labeled Huckleberry Finn’s use of the n-word over 200 times as offensive, a stance they’ve held since the 1950s.
In trying to understand these complaints, I thought perhaps that people felt uncomfortable with students reading what they considered to be a problematic piece of literature or were uncomfortable with students and teachers reading derogatory terms in a classroom setting. After some thought, I think that there is a common theme related to all these qualms about reading such books: the inability to embrace discomfort. This idea became better fleshed out after reading an interview with Jocelyn A. Chadwick, President of the National Council of Teachers of English, in which she said, “[Huckleberry Finn] goes where Americans really don’t want to go. We talk about race and racism and acceptance and inclusivity and equity…but we don’t really listen and engage in a real substantive conversation.”
In the past few years Pingry has seen progress on topics of race relations in the form of its affinity groups and Black Student Union. Between these groups and our many advisory meetings, SDLC-hosted events, and leadership trainings, several conversation norms have been impressed onto us as important skills in school and in life. One of these norms is to lean into discomfort. Regardless of why Pingry made the decision to alter the curriculum, I hope that leaning into discomfort doesn’t leave the English classrooms as a skill. I cannot emphasize enough that it is not okay to feel unsafe in a learning environment, but the ability to disagree with and analyze multiple perspectives, even if it’s one that you may find offensive, is vital. I hope every school that removes books like Huckleberry Finn from their curriculum considers this opinion.
Arguing that other works like The Secret Life of Bees and The Lord of the Flies could replace these novels and convey the same sentiment is valid, but we need to be careful with where we draw the line. Living in such a vocally polarized country, we are more grounded in this debate about race now more than ever. So, why not let the discussion start in the classroom?
Mar 24, 2019 | Editorial, Opinion
By Aneesh Karuppur ’21
Pingry is known for a lot of things; just head over to a website like College Confidential or NJ.com and you’ll find many different opinions and rankings of the school. People always seem to compare our academics to Newark Academy’s, or our athletics to Delbarton’s, or the Pingry experience to the Lawrenceville experience, but Pingry’s broad variety of club activities are rarely mentioned. Why aren’t clubs more prominently featured? After all, any college counselor will tell you that colleges value extracurriculars in addition to academics or athletics.
Pingry’s profile on Niche.com, which features rankings and information about nearly every K-12 school in the country, tells us an interesting story. Pingry earns a high A in every category on everything except – gasp – clubs! Pingry’s clubs earn a mere, shameful A- according to Niche, but no reasoning or justification is provided. Are Pingry clubs really so much less impressive than the other things the school has to offer?
The answer is no. Of course not! Pingry’s clubs are certainly high achieving– Pingry’s QuizBowl team, for example, has more trophies than can fit in Ms. Smith’s room, and the Model Congress club regularly collects gavels during trips.
But the impression that Pingry clubs stink seems to come from people’s reviews of the school. According to one anonymous Niche user, “I was not involved in many extracurricular activities at Pingry. In my experience, clubs and organizations are put on the backburner and academics are more valued. It seems to me that if a student is looking for extracurricular experience, they will participate in something outside of school.” Ouch.
But this user is not the only disgruntled person who is unsatisfied with Pingry’s clubs: “Great if the school cares about it” says another user. In general, the consensus seems to be that Pingry doesn’t put enough emphasis on clubs.
In a sense, this is true. Many clubs in Pingry are essentially autonomous, meaning they run without significant intervention from teachers or administration. This is especially true with clubs that don’t spend too much money.
Now, this is not necessarily a bad thing. But, what ends up happening is that clubs are running completely on individual student knowledge and initiative, which makes it difficult for the club to grow together because students have many other responsibilities to tend to. After a certain point, students cannot offer the same amount of knowledge that a dedicated coach or advisor can. However, the club’s advisors often have other responsibilities as well: advising plays, teaching students, coaching sports, running publications, and a whole host of other jobs that make it very difficult for them to put in the time needed. It simply doesn’t make sense for the club to expect its already burdened advisors to develop a level of understanding that is sufficiently greater than that of the students and help the club to grow.
Ridge High School has one of the top forensics programs in the country, in part because it has a dedicated coach who visits weekly to run the club meetings. Without that kind of teacher intervention, students are less motivated to join and, without enough students, the cost of a dedicated teacher becomes too high. It’s a vicious cycle of stagnation.
Even from a monetary perspective, the “let the kids deal with it” attitude doesn’t seem to work well. Without sufficient support, clubs won’t be able to reach their potential or win accolades for the school.
Pingry definitely supports its clubs in terms of facilities. Clubs (usually) have the tools and equipment that they need to function, but what is missing is that last link of a fully invested, dedicated, single-job teacher that would allow Pingry’s clubs to be as successful as the sports teams, at least in the eyes of the administration. Some clubs are now defunct because there was no advisor to continue their existence.
It is quite likely that other members of the community have brought up this suggestion in the past. Nonetheless, the idea is intriguing for future implementation, and could move Pingry’s club score from an A- to an A+.
Mar 24, 2019 | Editorial, Noah Bergam, Opinion
By Noah Bergam ’21
Ask almost any Pingry student who Billy McFarland is, and the response is quick: he’s the Fyre Festival guy. The fraudster. The former Pingry student.
For me, that last part has always been an afterthought, a small irony. I heard about it back when the festival came crashing down in 2017, and whenever the name came up it was a fun laugh.
But when I watched the Netflix documentary about the Fyre Festival, something about the whole disaster was brought to life in a disturbing way. Witnessing plans crash in real time, with the livelihoods of so many people put at risk, the amount of time and money and pride put to waste on a fraudulent business model — it all makes you wonder what kind of person it takes to remorselessly allow this to happen.
Sure, he was a person who went to this school. But he’s also a person that a lot of us will now immediately characterize as “crazy” or “malicious.” Someone whose mind just works in a different, broken way that we can’t relate to. Someone who we can frame as the butt of endless SAC memes of the week.
But I believe that this mindset of quick assumptions is deeply flawed, and I don’t say that in defense of McFarland. I think we have to understand him and his intentions in a much more complex way in order to properly learn from his mistakes.
I would argue that Billy McFarland is the product of a greater generational shift, a far-reaching phenomenon that I like to call Fyre. It’s an addiction, an obsession with attention, in which one’s ambitious words and the attention they gather outpace their abilities to make those promises come true. This is what allowed Billy to get investors on his side and to turn his impossible festival into a sellout show — he had an excessive Fyre, a pride in his lies. The people around him mistook that for true, entrepreneurial fire – and were proven utterly wrong.
But this idea applies to much more than just fraudulent tech startups. We all, at some point, have set out on a course of action with faulty ambition and pride, saying things that we can’t fully back up. This Fyre manifests itself everywhere across this very school — in promises to friends, club announcements, resumes, memes of the week, and probably even some Pingry Record articles. And the reason I ask Pingry in specific to look inwards is because, in my experience, we reside in an extremely success-oriented community.
I don’t think that statement would come as a surprise to anyone. Moreover, there is nothing wrong with that; in many ways, it inspires students to put their best foot forward. That being said, this focus on success translates into an even larger focus on ego, on reputation. Whether social or academic, these reputations can be boosted by exaggerations or small lies, which, over time, can add up. Often, especially in an environment as trusting as Pingry, these words can successfully create the desired illusion of wit or success, and thus be fostered further.
Perhaps more often than we as a community are willing to let on, people get away with this, and nobody gets hurt. But when this Fyre becomes an ingrained habit in our everyday lives, bubbles of lies begin to form. These bubbles can burgeon in importance, until at last, the needle of reality catches up, and the hard truth comes crashing down.
Hence, the story of Billy McFarland. A millennial Icarus, whose Fyre was enormously amplified by the distinctly modern power of an Internet Age. We, too, perhaps on a smaller level, are liable to make those mistakes in our Pingry community if we let lies or exaggerations overtake our reputations.
McFarland may be insane or malicious to some degree, but he showcased a Fyre that is present within all of us. We all need to recognize that instead of simply treating his mistakes as jokes. And hopefully, with that recognition, we all can create a school environment that puts out Fyres rather than encourages them.
Jan 16, 2019 | Editorial, Opinion
By Lauren Drzala ’21
Turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, pumpkin pie: just a few of the elements that help make a Thanksgiving feast for most people. As you all know, Thanksgiving break came to a screeching halt after five days. For me, it was not enough time to recharge my brain. Now we anxiously await winter break, hoping for one or two snow days in between. During this holiday season, family members swarm your house. And in every holiday party, I have realized there are certain categories my family members fit into when it comes to preparing any holiday event: the watchers, the cooks, the cleaners, and the guests.
The watchers. This classification of holiday participants can be described as the little pests who hang around the kitchen, waiting to strike on the innocent mashed potatoes sitting by the hot stove. I, myself, am guilty of this. Spoon in hand, they dive for the unfinished sauces and foods, being stopped by none other than the cook who prepares it. To vanquish a watcher, one must tell them they have to help clean up the mess. After this point, the watchers are nowhere to be seen, saving the remainder of the food they did not get their hands on.
The cooks. The creators of the holiday foods who feel they are the superior beings in the kitchen. They are just normal people who turn into chefs, making everyone wonder where these hidden talents just came from. Suddenly Mom and Dad turn into Alton Brown, whipping out delectable items comparable to those on Food Network. They make us wonder how these hidden talents just appear out of their ordinary lives. The cooks add some thyme here and a splash of a mysterious juice seemingly from the depths of the Amazon Jungle there. Because they are so engrossed in their cooking, a mountain of dishes begins to grow in the sink, much to the dismay of the cleaners.
The cleaners. These are the people I relate to the most. They start off as watchers, unaware of the perilous mistake they have made by sitting in the kitchen. These innocent children meet their parents’ gaze, aware of the pile of dishes in the sink. They try to escape, but are forced to help clean up. Once the cleaning begins, so does the complaining. I am personally guilty of this. “No one helps me,” is usually my go-to, but once someone like my younger sister tries to help, I say, “Get out! You are not good at cleaning up.” However, there are times when the mess is just too much to handle, and that usually leads to me ask for help.
The guests. There are many varieties of guests, including the grandparents, the cousins, the family friends, and those family members you see once every six years. Some guests are people that I have never met before. You think you hear your parents say they are friends of your third cousins, but you aren’t quite sure. There are some guests who decide to help clean up. Although I do enjoy a helping hand (when there is too much for me to handle), I don’t enjoy it when the guests begin to clean up when I am enjoying myself. This leads to a death stare from my mom, compelling me to halt my fun and start to clean up again. I then have to approach these guests and pry the soap and sponge from their hands, telling them to have a good time while I am stuck with the dishes . . . again.
Now, what I have also learned from continuous holiday parties and guest after guest is that hosting a holiday party is a pain, but it is all worth the trouble. Everyone special in your life comes together for one glorious party. Yes, it can be exhausting, but you are doing it for the people that you love. I am very glad to spend my holidays with my family; they really do make me happy at the end of the day, and I do not say that enough. To quote Michael J. Fox, “Family is not an important thing. It’s everything.”
Jan 13, 2019 | Editorial, Opinion
By Ethan Malzberg ’19
The news broke for me on Twitter. It was Saturday, October 27. While taking a break from college essays, I never expected to scroll past frantic headlines announcing a massacre against my community.
The Monday following the shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, I immediately went to Ms. Hartz’s office to discuss how we could act. As co-leader of Jewish Affinity Group, I was unsure what my role should be in the healing process of the Jewish community and the greater Pingry community.
Together, we decided that the Jewish Affinity Group should host a Town Hall. There, anyone from the community — regardless of religious identification — could share their reaction to the events in Pittsburgh. Aside from Pingry’s usual norms, we added an additional one for this town hall: attendees were welcome to stand up and share their reactions, but no one was allowed to respond to someone else’s reaction. Our intention in setting this norm was to create a space solely for reaction and support, not debate. It was important for me to allow people to react in whatever way they desired — and given the political intertwinings of any mass shooting, that might mean politics — without allowing something as emotional as this to turn into a place for heated argument.
The Town Hall took place on November 8 during CP. All members of the Pingry community were invited. Teachers, students, and administrators attended the event. Many attendees shared one or multiple responses to the shooting; others simply listened and observed for the duration of the event. Personally, I shared my newfound fear as an American and as a Jew, my distaste for the manner in which our President and Vice President addressed the shooting, and my guilt for not giving myself enough time to process the events immediately after they occurred because I was so busy with schoolwork and college applications.
Mrs. Ostrowsky, one of the school counselors, shared a particularly poignant poem written by Zev Steinberg that brought many at the event to tears. The following is an excerpt from the poem:
“Little boy, what’s your name – do you have one?
Sweet baby, just eight days, what should we call you?
I have heard the sacred circumcision postponed for jaundiced yellow, but never before for bloodshed red.
Is your name Shalom? We long for peace in this troubled world. I hope you are Shalom.
Is your name Nachum? Oh, how we need to be comforted in our grief. I hope you are Nachum.
Is your name Raphael? Our broken hearts and bleeding souls need healing. I hope you are Raphael.
You should have been carried high into the congregation on Shabbat morning – past from loving hands to loving hands – on a cushioned pillow to receive your Jewish name.
Instead your elders fell and were carried out on stretchers in plastic bags. Their names on tags.
Is your name Moshe? Our unbearable anguish and rage demands justice. I hope you are Moshe.
Is your name Ariel? We need the ferocious strength of lions to protect our people. I hope you are Ariel.
Is your name Barak? We need courageous warriors to vanquish our enemies. I hope you are Barak.
The blood on Shabbat morning was supposed to be covenantal not sacrilegious, sacramental not sacrificial, sacred not unholy. The tears were supposed to be of boundless joy not bottomless sorrow.
The cries were supposed to be ‘mazel tov’ not the mourner’s kaddish.”
For those who do not know, a baby’s naming ceremony is considered, by Jews, to be one of the most important moments in life. This is supposed to take place within eight days of birth. As the poem mentioned, postponement of the ceremony is a rarity; the fact that this occurred speaks to the gravity of the Pittsburgh tragedy.
Personally, I was brought to tears by this poem. It made me aware of just how unpresent I had been. It was so easy to hear “9 dead, 10 dead, now 11 dead” in the headlines that eventually, I tuned the news out. It was so easy to fear for my own safety (for the first time in recent memory) and immediately tune out. It was so easy to immerse myself in school work that I tuned my own pain out. Despite having planned this event, I had been so numb that I never processed everything that occurred until I heard this poem: the shooting happened at a baby’s naming ceremony, it wasn’t “just” a normal Saturday morning service.
What happened at the Tree of Life Synagogue is so much bigger than me. Still, I learned that self-awareness and emotional awareness are necessary if I want to help other people heal. I need to take care of myself before I can try to help anyone else.
Jan 13, 2019 | Editorial, Eva Schiller, Opinion
By Eva Schiller ’21
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, I was dragged out of my room to watch the opening skit of Saturday Night Live. It was a rerun commenting on Kavanaugh’s election by the Senate, and depicted Republican senators partying after the judge was confirmed to the Supreme Court. While I did enjoy the skit, I recognized that it was designed to make the viewer think as well as laugh. So, what part resonated with me? I managed to pinpoint a quote by Cecily Strong, who played senator Susan Collins in the skit: “I think it’s important to believe women until it’s time to stop. But…you know, I’m a guy’s gal, okay?” While it was intended to mock Collins for not supporting her own gender, this quote brings up a more serious question: why would anyone support a cause that damages their own ‘people’? Why root against the progress of your own team?
To me, it seems similar to a Pingry student rooting for the other team during a sports event. You may ask yourself why any Pingry student would do such a thing. The answer is simple: they must feel a stronger affiliation with the other school than they do with Pingry. Perhaps they are indifferent and throw their support behind the opponent, seemingly more deserving of it. Maybe they choose to root for a friend on the other team.
But is this really why people vote against causes that could potentially benefit them? For instance, it seems hard to believe that any woman could feel a stronger affiliation with “sexist” policies or actions than they do with “feminist” ones. It seems even harder for me to believe that a woman could outright dislike feminism. There must be some reason why some people are able to forsake a group that they are expected to support, much like our hypothetical student who decided not to root for Pingry.
It is important to remember that many people will simply disagree with me; causes that I deem harmful to the progress of women or other groups may seem beneficial to some. However, there are others who recognize a cause as damaging to their ‘team,’ yet still support it. I have decided that the root of this decision is the selfishness ingrained in our society. This may seem paradoxical– wouldn’t selfish people support a cause that benefits them? Well, they do. Selfish people support causes that benefit them as individuals, not the groups with which they identify. For example, many believe that our current national leadership is opposed to causes that benefit women, but this does not seem to quell support from some women who remain unaffected. If a Pingry sports team wins or loses, the average student is unaffected and is at liberty to root for either side. As long as people care more about what affects them, we will continue to vote based on personal interest rather than the interest of our political, racial, and sexual groups.
The problem that we, as a society, then face is how to encourage stronger affiliation with one’s various groups. According to Alexander Hamilton, humans are inherently selfish, but I am unconvinced that persuading people to vote for the good of their “team” is a lost cause. Since it is more selfish than voting strictly for the good of society, while still less selfish than voting for individual gain, I find voting for one’s societal groups to be a middle ground that many should tend towards. It may even help people make better decisions that benefit themselves. For instance, if I considered my identity as an American, a woman, a student, a daughter, etc. while voting, I would likely end up making a choice that was best for both me personally and for everyone who shares those qualities with me.
So, let’s summarize. We support causes that are potentially damaging to our own societal groups based on our own intrinsic, inevitable selfishness, and the only solution is to entirely reimagine what we should see as important. A bit extreme, I know. But, the best place to start is within ourselves: remember to take others into consideration when making decisions that affect them.
Nov 17, 2018 | Noah Bergam, Opinion
By Noah Bergam ’21
Upon re-entering Pingry during this back-to-school season, I noticed that, in my discussion-based classes, I tend to find myself fighting total classroom silence. That’s not to say I am the only one participating – there are plenty of other students who add to the discussion without qualms. But there are also so many students who rarely, if ever, speak up. Some are shy outside the classroom. Some are pretty talkative once you get to know them. Some work hard, some hardly work, some are outright geniuses.
This lack of participation did not totally surprise me, but it struck me as rather impractical. I understood, however, after discussing it with some friends, that the reasoning behind staying silent was simple: why risk failure and judgement from others? I could certainly grasp the fear; after two failed campaigns for class president and plenty of slip-ups in class of which I am not particularly proud, I’ve had some taste of public failure. Those experiences were not pleasant in the moments immediately following but in the long run, I feel they have helped me improve in various ways and ultimately build up my confidence.
So, I believe that a fear of failure that hinders class participation – and participation in general – is one that can and should be conquered. Failure is what matures us. We learn what we do wrong and we chase the correct answer or thought process that may prepare ourselves for future slip-ups. This cycle of failure can lead to success inside and outside the classroom, an enlightening and motivating process once fully set in motion.
The problem that many face is how to begin the cycle: how do you put yourself out there and risk judgement? This can be difficult at our school, where we are constantly pressured to fit the model of the elite Pingry student. I’m referring to the all-star scholars, athletes, and artists we see all around us – the kids who are called ‘exceptional’, who win awards in Hauser auditorium, and wield an almost legendary status for us, even if they have already graduated from Pingry. These figures both inspire and intimidate us; they set a precedent of excellence that can drive us to try harder but can also scare us away from following in their footsteps.
In order to beat the pressure present in the classroom and beyond, one must accept failure as a prerequisite for greater success. These inspirational student figures had to experience failure to get the results they desired. If they did everything right every time, there would be no progress.
We have a limited time in the small Pingry community. High school makes up a practically insignificant portion of our lives. So, why not speak up while we’re here? Why not learn and make the most of this experience while it is still in our fingertips? The classroom is the best place to start.
Nov 17, 2018 | Editorial, Opinion
By Armani Davidson ’19
With application deadlines on the horizon, stress mounting, and college less than a year away, seniors are looking for guidance anywhere. I believe some answers for the overworked grade may be hiding in an unexpected source: here are ten reasons why the Class of 2019 should read The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss in preparation for college.
- Above everything, the book is short. College is going to be full of lengthy books, but you can finish The Cat in the Hat in 10 minutes.
- The book opens with two children looking out of a window after their mother leaves; suddenly the Cat enters their house. On a metaphoric level, this is how college will be: your parents will leave and strangers will enter your life.
- The Cat asks the children to play a game with him and breaks their toys. The Cat has no remorse for his actions and ignores the children’s feelings. There will always be people that will put themselves before you and break things, whether they be physical or ideological, that you value.
- The children “did not know what to say” to the Cat because their mother was not home. When the Cat first enters the house, the Fish tells him to leave. The Fish serves as the children’s conscious; every time he speaks he references their mother’s absence. Without your parents giving you guidance or rules, you have to be able to trust your own intuition. When something does not feel right, you need to listen to your conscious, or else someone, like the Cat, will take advantage of you.
- The Cat distracts the children from the mess he created by bringing Thing 1 and Thing 2. Things 1 and 2 continue to destroy the house and ignore the children begging them to stop. Although distractions are fun at first, they can lead to destruction.
- The Fish continues to tell the Cat to leave, as the children say nothing, but the Cat ignores him because he “likes it here.” The Cat, selfishly, focuses on himself and puts his own feelings before the children’s. If someone thrives at your expense, then they’re not a true friend.
- The children speak for the first time after Thing 1 and Thing 2 use their mother’s dress as a kite. The children finally yell at the Cat and tell him to leave, which successfully causes him to clean up his mess. You have to speak up for yourself to get what you want.
- The children eventually catch Thing 1 and Thing 2 in a net and forcibly remove them from their house when they see their mother approaching the house. The children take action because they are afraid of what their mother will say. Unlike this situation, you are alone at college. You can’t wait for your parents to come to clean up your mess; you have to know your own limits.
- In the end, the mother asks the children, “What did you do?” The reader is left with a question: what would you say if this was your mother? When you come home from college, will you tell your parents everything you did?
Nov 13, 2018 | Editorial, Opinion
By Nava Levene-Harvey ’19
Senior year has begun for Pingry’s class of 2019. Somewhere on the horizon, college acceptances and rejections, mental breakdowns, and unimaginable stresses all await my classmates and me. Now, the many awards ceremonies I used to think of as only annoyances are essential. These awards have the possibility of being the “cherries on top” in college applications, and one in particular takes the cake over all of the others: Cum Laude.
Before the Fall Awards Assembly on Friday, September 21, I heard several people talking about the school deciding not to induct half of their Cum Laude selection in the fall, as done in previous years. At first, I participated in these conversations thinking it was merely speculation, but the assembly fully confirmed that fact for the whole school.
I believe that Pingry’s choice to postpone this induction to the spring has hurt student morale more than it has helped. The awards ceremonies reward people for their achievements from the year before, and Cum Laude is no different. Yes, there is the obvious fact that seniors inducted in the spring cannot put it on their college applications; however, this is not unique to the Cum Laude induction. All of the awards given during the spring award ceremony cannot be included on a senior’s college application. By changing the policy for Cum Laude and doing the full induction in the spring, Pingry increases stress for students by placing more emphasis on their performance than before.
For those who might oppose this argument, I offer this: if people are driven to be the best and strive to prove that to themselves and others, Cum Laude would be their opportunity. This type of incentive, to encourage students to push themselves until they reach their goal in spite of all obstacles, might otherwise be admirable but in fact it runs the risk of making students’ mental health collateral damage during an already high-stress time. The school previously helped prevent this by inducting only half of the students in the fall, but now all students will undergo an elongated period of stress. .
The Cum Laude change does offer the possibility of opening up a dialogue about a larger issue. The choice, one that directly affects students, was made without the current students’ input. Ms. Chatterji has made it obvious that the Board of Trustees is beginning to try to make student voices more involved in their decisions, exemplified by the survey she mentioned during morning meeting regarding the new Head of school. Yet, the fact that the induction policy was changed without even making an announcement to the student body is problematic, being that Cum Laude is so important to the student body.
While this was a lapse in the school’s judgment, they have the chance to rectify this situation by developing a way to involve students in events that directly affect them. I mentioned the survey from the Board of Trustees earlier because actions like that are a start. I want to make it clear that I do not think that every decision the administration makes needs student input. However, there are going to be topics that directly affect students, topics that students are more inclined to give their opinions about, and those must be taken into account. As students at this school, we deserve a say in issues that directly affect our experiences.
With improved methods of making decisions directly involving students, the probabilities of something like this happening again will decrease. The Cum Laude choice should reveal how choices made on their own can negatively impact the community. Going forward, the choice should show the Board of Trustees that it needs to convey a clearer message to students that their voices matter. Surveys, chances to talk at length in person, and even emails could be a start.
Nov 9, 2018 | Editorial, Opinion
By Alessia Zanobini ’19
I firmly believe that involvement in government and politics should start from a young age, whether that consists of reading the newspaper or running for student government. Early political engagement leads to informed voters and experienced legislators. Even if this commitment is just at a school-level, I am proud of my peers for being involved in a democracy. However, last year’s student body presidential election and our subsequent senior class presidential election made me rethink if everyone was truly involved. As I looked at the students running, I couldn’t help but wonder: “where are the female candidates?”
For the newly elected 2018-2019 student government, girls hold just five of the twenty-two seats, and last year, each class had roughly the same ratio. As we go higher up in student government leadership positions, the number of women decreases even more. Last year, only one of our Upper School class presidents and vice presidents was female and for 2018-2019, all the class or vice presidents are male. Most strikingly, in the 44 years Pingry has been co-educational, we have only ever had four female student body presidents. Last year’s all-male group of candidates for student body president as well as the candidates for Form VI’s class president were clearly not flukes and represent part of a larger, problematic pattern here at Pingry.
When I talked about the lack of women in student government to fellow peers, many told me that had more women run, there would be more women on student government. There weren’t many girls on their class ballots in the first place. Why weren’t women running, then?
First, I had to personally reflect on why I hadn’t run. After all, I am knowledgeable and interested in politics and government. I hold similar leadership positions as the male presidential candidates and I’m involved in the same variety of activities. Thus, shouldn’t I share some of the guilt, as I am a qualified woman who voluntary chose not to run? My reasoning for not running was this: by election season – mid-Junior year – I had already committed to other leadership roles (Journal Club and the Student Diversity Leadership Committee, for example) and I’m more interested in those organizations than I am in student government. I didn’t feel discouraged nor did I lack the confidence to run; rather, I had already dedicated myself to other activities.
When I spoke to other women in the community, their answers sounded similar to mine. Allie Matthias (Form VI), a class representative, was hesitant to even run for student body president because of the potential stress and time commitment. Ultimately, she was the only female in our grade on the ballot, in part so that there “would be a woman on stage.” Cassie Yermack (Form VI) also didn’t run for student government because she didn’t think she’d win and didn’t want to be one of the only people who didn’t get elected (ten people were running for eight spots). The two most common answers I heard from people were “I’m too busy” or “I wouldn’t win.”
Clearly, none of my female peers are to blame individually.. In fact, no one I interviewed stated that sexism or systemic challenges held them back from running or being elected. However, a trend emerged of women saying that they didn’t run because they’d never be elected. Perhaps women lacked the confidence to run in the first place – or more likely, the lack of women on our current student government discourages women from running in the future. Several women told me they think that only a certain type of woman — polite, intelligent, and uncontroversial, for example — gets elected to student government, if at all. If a potential candidate feels she doesn’t fit this image, she might not run.
I argue that this issue goes beyond the Pingry community, though. How will Pingry women be encouraged to run if they don’t have the role models in our real government? In the U.S. government, there are currently 84 women in the House of Representatives (out of 535 members) and only 22 women in the Senate (out of 100 members), making around 20% of the members of congress women. Yermack mentioned that when she pictures a politician, she pictures “a man like Ted Cruz or Richard Nixon – white, commanding, and opinionated. That image is just not female.” Maybe women at Pingry feel discouraged from pursuing a career in politics and therefore spend time pursuing other college preparatory and career-oriented activities. This can also explain the other reasoning for not running (the “too busy” argument). In this case, perhaps Pingry has done all it can to encourage gender equality within the community, and the problems reach further than any one school can solve.
I am hesitant to label Pingry student government, or Pingry itself, as sexist; at the same time, I cannot ignore the obvious pattern of young men controlling our student government. The lack of women in student government hurts the whole community, as the group of leaders have a duty to represent the student body, and without women, that representation is impossible to achieve. As always, I encourage everyone — especially my fellow women — to get engaged in politics in whatever way they can to benefit themselves, their female peers, and the larger community.
