Dec 24, 2017 | Editorial, Opinion
By Rachel Chen ’18
I’ve been crying a lot lately, but here’s the latest reason why: on November 26, I decorated the family Christmas tree for last time.
It was the latest of many lasts that weekend: my last Thanksgiving I’d welcome my sister home, my last squash tournament road trip with my parents, my last Thanksgiving dinner I’d sit at the “kids’” table instead of the “adults’.” I suppose they all compounded, unacknowledged, until they hit me like a double-decker bus at 12:09 AM as I stared into the glowing ornaments and shimmering tinsel I had hung. Who’s going to decorate the tree next year? Who’s going to make Mom and Dad excited for Christmas?
I could see it in my head so clearly—Christmas, always powered by my sister’s and my incessant Mariah Carey singalongs and burnt sugar cookies, fading from our household, evaporating like breath on a windowpane. My parents had only ever loved the holidays as much as Marcia and I did. Would my parents still give each other gifts when the two of us were gone? Would they even put up a tree?
My tear ducts, overworked as they are in the season of giving and college applications, started to flow. Marcia knew wordlessly why I was upset. “Did you know,” she started, pulling me in for a hug, “that 90% of the time you will ever spend with your parents is over by the time you leave for college?”
Now, I’ve searched for this statistic and can’t find it anywhere. But confirmed or not, it still packs a punch to the heart. Realistically, how many hours will I spend with my parents after I leave for college? A summer here, a holiday here. Blink twice and I only call once a week between my work commute and dropping my kid off at school. That not-so-distant future is a far cry from the Sunday morning pancakes and long car rides and Costco runs we share now.
And that explains why they’ve been so lenient lately. Classic symptoms of early onset empty nest syndrome—I just didn’t recognize them until I put the star on the top of the tree. In the past few weeks, my parents have bought my sister and I orchestra tickets to Anastasia on Broadway (amazing show, 12/10 would recommend!); gifted us a slew of lululemon clothing; even surprised us with entirely unnecessary, expensive Fastpasses for our winter break visit to Universal’s Harry Potter theme park. They’ve displayed an uncharacteristic indulgence with their eat this, do that attitude. Nothing is a waste of money anymore—not if it offers happiness to enjoy, an experience to share, another memory to cherish.
Their indulgence makes me ashamed of my behavior during the past few weeks. I’ve used stress, exhaustion, and anxiety as excuses to be snappy, self-centered, and rude. And worse, my parents have simply tolerated it with closed-lipped grimaces because they love me, wholly and unconditionally—the way they have for the past seventeen years, they way they will continue to forever.
Okay, maybe I’m being overdramatic. I’m sure there will be other holidays in the future for which I’ll return home early enough to untangle the lights and hang up stockings. But staring at the Christmas tree at 12:09AM, I took a breath during my race to move on—from high school, from Pingry, from family—and felt, for the first time, that I wanted everything to stay the same.
So here’s what Marcia told me, that I’m now telling you: it is your duty to make every minute of these last few years count. Be kind. Be patient. Be present, because here is something wonderful and exciting and terrifyingly sad, all at once: everything is going to change. Everything is changing already. Treasure these moments before 90% of your time with your parents is gone.
I’ve been counting down the days till I leave for college for years now. I just never realized that Mom and Dad have been, too.
Oct 24, 2017 | Opinion
By Anna Wood ’18
Simply put, media is powerful. A single hashtag or posted message can influence people for months. We’ve seen trends such as store robberies and dangerous stunts. We absorb the posts we see online, oftentimes more than we think we do. As members of society, we should keep this in mind. Rachel Chen (VI) agrees. “On one hand, I understand that we are students and we do represent Pingry,” she said. “We’re supposed to be the best and the brightest–representing honor and integrity and citizenship.”
On the other hand, we are allowed to exercise our rights, including freedom of speech. While we are fortunate to have this liberty, consequences are inevitable. Ultimately, it is the individual’s decision to gauge whether or not their message will influence others in a positive manner.
Pingry, however, is a private day school — and one of the strongest in the country, at that. Resources, time, and energy shouldn’t always be spent dwelling on events that aren’t directly affiliated with the school. Actions displayed at athletic competitions, arts performances, and on campus activities reflect the values of the Pingry community; informal events between students do not mirror Pingry to as full of an extent. Private details of students’ personal lives should not be mixed with their academic endeavors, as long as those details don’t reflect their behavior on campus. Provided that Pingry students are honorable, dedicated, and respectful in their daily lives on campus, it is not up to the school to decide what students do in the privacy of their own homes.
The Honor Code states, “The members of the Pingry community should conduct themselves in a trustworthy manner that will further the best interests of the school, their class, and any teams or clubs to which they belong.” Pingry students who dutifully serve their athletic teams, clubs, and classes certainly follow this aspect of the Honor Code. Certain human values can be encouraged, but cannot be wholeheartedly enforced outside of the community.
Unfortunately, social media is melting the privacy that keeps home and school separate. Social media is the easiest form of communication, but it can be misinterpreted. A post not intended to harm others can most certainly do so if we aren’t careful. Content shared on social media can compromise safety and reputation, even when privately shared.
Some may argue that nearly every platform of social media allows the user to go “private,” disabling strangers from viewing his or her posts. Others may add that online expression changes relative to the platform of social media. Among the younger community especially, Facebook, Twitter, and Reddit report the most use in retrieving news, whereas Instagram, Snapchat, and Youtube are used in a more casual manner (“News Across Social Media Platforms 2017”).
That being said, media users must still be cautious on their Snapchat accounts or their private Instagram profiles. Posts are not only viewed but also shared and discussed. In other words, private isn’t truly private. A post that sparks political controversy, no matter how concealed, will still emerge from the shadows and be spread to every corner imaginable.
Liberty lets us flourish in our own opinions and ways of life. But limitations are still present. We
must utilize the privilege of freedom with maturity values are destroyed over
social media, they are destroyed in the real world.
Oct 24, 2017 | Opinion
By Felicia Ho (V)
Transitioning into high school is a lot like walking into a dim sum restaurant. Sometimes you hear great ‘reviews’ of high school, sometimes you only hear about the huge amount of pressure during high school. However, you never know until you truly experience it yourself.
In a dim sum restaurant, like the one I go to with my family, you are greeted by an eager old woman who whips out a red stamp maker and a pen and begins to list what she brings to the table from an overflowing cart.
“Over here we have some chew beef tripe, fresh from the kitchen,” she says. “And here are some soup dumplings and noodle rolls, and some shu mai! Finally over here we’ve got some filling tofu soup.”
Her auctioning descriptions finished, she impatiently clicks her pen and waits for your answer. So what would you like? she wants to know, already ready to move on to the next table.
Ninth grade can feel exactly like that.
At first, it seems overwhelming: suddenly, teachers aren’t holding your hand anymore, and your friends seem to be so competitive. Just like the servers at a dim sum restaurant, more and more people seem to be impatient. Each teacher expects you to treat his or her class as your focus, and thus they pile work onto you, yet you still have to make time for hanging out with friends.
Although it may be hard at first, my suggestion is that you try to look beyond the pressure in high school. In other words, think beyond what the servers at the Pingry high school dim sum restaurant may think of you.
Think about what’s on the cart, instead.
Beckoning to you are tons of clubs, striving to get your attention and attract more members. Some are science-related, such as Anatomy Club or Journal Club, while others are more humanities-focused, such as Toastmasters or the Pingry Record. On other plates sit other clubs related to Community Service or environmental issues, and still more clubs revolve around the idea of exploring different hobbies and interests, such as debate or astronomy.
With so much to choose from, how do you decide?
It’s freshmen year, so just go for it!
Just like in a dim sum restaurant, what may sound gross at first, like the steamed beef tripe (cow stomach), might actually turn out to be great (steamed beef tripe is one of my personal favorites)! Once you’ve got a great selection in freshmen year, you can start developing which clubs are your favorites – which ‘dishes’ do you always come back to every day you walk through the doors of the school? Throughout your four years in high school, you’ll become the expert on these dishes, and you will grow to be a frequent customer of this dim sum restaurant. You will become an expert on the culinary delights of high school.
Don’t worry. You won’t be alone! Although some teachers, just like some servers in the dim sum restaurant, will set seemingly impossible deadlines, others will become your support base throughout your high school career. Your friends and family are also a part of this group, and when you’re not sure what order to make, don’t be afraid to ask for their opinion; they’ll be glad to help.
Oct 24, 2017 | Opinion
By Megan Pan
One morning last week, I was driving myself to school when I got into an accident.
It wasn’t anything terrible. I was a little careless on the turn into the school driveway, and my car ended up scraping against the curbside stones. Aside from a harsh clang and the physical jolt of the ricochet, it wasn’t too serious, and once I parked and headed inside I thought nothing more of it.
Flash forward to 5:30 that afternoon: tired from classes and play practice and dreading the work that awaited me that evening, I was more than ready to enjoy the drive home, listening to music while coasting thoughtlessly down the highway. However, as soon as I accelerated onto I-78 eastbound, I noticed that there was a loud, rhythmic thumping noise coming from the back of my car. Panicking, I made the first exit I could and trudged along until reaching the nearest gas station.
As it turned out, I had actually blown a tire from my accident that morning. Somehow, I had failed to notice it after parking and even upon returning to my car in the afternoon. Luckily, a trucker filling up at the gas station was kind enough to lend a hand. He replaced the flat tire with the spare in the trunk, walking me through the procedure so I would know what to do in the future.
“Thank you so much,” I said to him after he was done. “If it hadn’t been for you, I probably would’ve kept driving on the blown tire.”
“You wouldn’t have wanted to do that,” he replied. “You could end up really causing damage to the axle or the hub or something if you keep driving on a flat tire.”
Having been told not to drive over 50 miles per hour on a donut, I scouted a new route home that wouldn’t take me along any freeways. On local roads, it would take about 40 minutes in order to get home. Seeing as I had little other choice, I sighed and buckled myself in for the long ride.
As it turned out, I actually quite enjoyed this little detour. Following this route, the landscapes were much prettier and more varied than the industrial gray and the conventional green of the roads and signs along the highway. Ambling along winding roads and steep hills, humming along to my favorite songs while admiring the view of the setting sun, I was able to experience a rare 40 minutes of tranquility in the car all by myself. I didn’t think about the work that I needed to do or the upcoming deadlines for all my assignments or even the editorial I had been procrastinating for the newspaper. I just drove and drove and made my way back home.
You might be wondering why I’m telling you this, all of which seems to add up to simply an anecdote of a minor inconvenience in an otherwise ordinary day. But by the time I pulled into the garage that evening, I had realized something important.
Since the beginning of the school year, I have been working myself to the point of exhaustion in the attempt to do everything. Juggling a full course load, college applications, extra-curriculars, and family obligations, I have skipped meals, shed tears, and sacrificed sleep to try to get everything done. In terms of my physical and mental well-being, I had definitely blown a tire. In spite of that, I was still struggling to keep going on a flat tire, resulting only in ineffectiveness and further disappointment.
Within the Pingry community, there is a sense of urgency pervading the atmosphere that makes many people feel as if they’re running a race in which they can’t afford to stop or slow down. There is a constant deluge of things to do, and with the added pressure of seeing everyone else around you working hard, you push yourself past your limit to be able to keep up.
But you can’t keep driving on a flat tire. It’s simply not practical, and you run the risk of causing further damage to yourself, whether you sputter out from excessive fatigue or explode in a burst of stress and frustration. What students must come to understand is that when they find that they’ve reached a point at which trying to keep going would only prove counterproductive, it’s necessary and perfectly fine to take a moment to breathe. When times get rough, take the time to perform repairs, fill up on gas, and pick up a couple of snacks from the convenience store. Then, you’ll be ready to hit the road again.
People often use the metaphor that life is a marathon in the sense that it’s a long-distance race and you have to pace yourself. However, I’d like to provide a modification of that metaphor. To me, life is not a quest to complete a set distance along a set course while competing to achieve the fastest time; in fact, it’s not a race at all.
To me, life is a long car drive. All of us are driving at different speeds and in different directions, and we’re each going someplace different. But no matter where we’re headed in the long run, it’s important to take the time every once in a while to exit the highway, slow down, and truly enjoy the scenery.
Oct 24, 2017 | Opinion
By Ketaki Tavan (V)
We’re told as children that sitting in front of the TV is a waste of time. It hampers creativity, creates couch potatoes, fosters laziness, and leads to a meaningless existence. We’re told that our time would be better spent reading a book instead.
Reading books is an exercise for our brains that teaches us how to analyze and interpret what comes our way, feeds us valuable life lessons that we can implement at our liberty, and makes us thoughtful contributors to society armed newfound knowledge regarding the human experience. But why do we see watching movies and TV as incapable of doing the same?
In recent years especially, I’ve become more acutely aware of the value of English class. The chances that I will encounter the precise themes of Pride and Prejudice or Holden Caulfield’s “coming of age” in The Catcher in the Rye at some point during my future career are likely slim, but the act of reading these books, I’ve realized, doesn’t hold its value in the way we might initially assume.
In English class, we’re taught how to read, or rather, how to consume media. And I’d argue that this exercise in the thoughtful consumption of media can be beneficial when applied to quality movies and TV as well.
We spend years training our minds to read a certain way: to engage in critical analysis, to become more attuned to detail, and to look beneath the surfaces of these works to draw connections to the larger world in which we live. To my surprise, I began to notice myself watching movies and TV through a similar lens.
At face value, movies and TV provide entertainment, and I’ll be the first to admit that some media is good for nothing more. However, there is a host of digital material out there that is thoughtfully crafted and can prompt its audience to engage with the cultural moment in which we live and the facets of our contemporary world.
Take Black Mirror, for example, a controversial and thought-provoking series that explores the uneasiness of our modern world. Each episode considers a different injustice, tapping into the psychological damage of war, the disturbances of our technology-obsessed society, and the troubling themes we have come to label as entertainment.
Watching Black Mirror prompted me to consider our world in its current state in a way that, as I read more and at higher levels, great literature does as well. Despite its satirical and amplified portrayal of our current problems, Black Mirror acts as a stimulus that prompts viewers to unearth the glimmers of these issues that can be seen in our modern world. In a subtle way, the show shapes its audience into active, engaged contributors to our society.
Showtime’s Shameless, a TV series about a dysfunctional family struggling to make ends meet in South Side Chicago, is another show that has stimulated my mind in a way similar to that of literature.
Shameless is my favorite TV show for a host of reasons, the biggest reason being that it’s what first allowed me to recognize the value of quality television. The show’s directors artfully underscore the nuances and depth of the human experience, and the fact that their vehicle to convey this narrative is digital allows for the engagement of the audience’s senses in a way that is unique from that of literature.
Watching Shameless becomes more than following an admittedly entertaining plot; it begs you as the viewer to give credit to its subtleties. Prior to my watching Shameless, never before had a TV show commanded me to pay attention to its soundtrack, staging, camera angles, and script. It effortlessly conveys the rawness of human relationships and the very real and relevant stories shared by many American people today. This detail and these messages are familiar—they’re the heart of the academic literature we’re told to read and taught how to read.
Movies and TV shows aren’t a replacement for the enrichment that reading provides, but they can sharpen our intellect in similar ways that reading can.
I encourage people to discard the belief that TV and movies are a mindless way to squander time, to recognize the genuine and powerful properties of digital media, and to consume them in an intentional manner that, in many ways, parallels the treasure that is reading literature.
Oct 24, 2017 | Opinion
By Miro Bergam (V)
“Lean into discomfort.” This phrase may sound familiar from the multiple diversity assemblies you’ve been asked to attend in your years at Pingry. It is a part of a list of “conversation norms” that Pingry’s diversity work is grounded in. For many people, this phrase and the list of norms have gone in one ear and out the other. However, I have found that recently, the world that surrounds us has given these norms more context. In particular, I believe the political conversations our country is currently engaging in and the way they translate tangibly into our interpersonal relationships and lives at Pingry has made the norm of leaning into discomfort a necessity.
I had this realization at a leadership workshop hosted by Pingry’s diversity department this past August. Student leaders from sports teams, clubs, Student Government, SDLC, and Honor Board were asked to attend this training session, which involved engaging in different activities led by John Gentile, a diversity practitioner who specializes in working with white males.
In the latter half of the activity, the white males at the workshop were isolated into their own group. For the first few minutes, the group was dead silent. The silence was killing the whole intention of holding such a group: everyone was supposed to lean into discomfort and air out the white male opinions that are often overlooked in diversity work. But once people started participating, lightning struck the room: it was uncomfortable, it was problematic, and heads were clashing, but it was exactly what we needed. Everyone leaned a little bit out of their comfort zones, and it unearthed a landmine of opinions we desperately needed to addressed and confront in our world of white supremacist marches and national anthem debates.
Last week, Mr. Conard delivered a much needed speech addressing these conflicts. He shared his own opinion denouncing the white supremacists who marched in Charlottesville, and he commented on the way our current atmosphere politicizes every aspect of our lives, even including our day-to-day conversations.
One of his main points was that although he finds the white supremacists’ stances abhorrent, he believes “they have a right to voice their opinions.” This may strike some people as the opposite of what we should be doing—if their opinions are “wrong,” then why should we even give them a platform? Along the lines of Mr. Conard’s statement, I argue that continuing to push these repulsive opinions under the radar is simply feeding a large, silent beast of discontent and frustration that is occasionally released in horrifying moments like the white supremacist rallies that have swept Charlottesville.
Through hearing out the opinions of Pingry’s white males at the leadership workshop this summer and listening to dissenting opinions as a leader of the white affinity group, I have learned that the endgame is not always about coming to an agreement, changing someone’s mind, or “winning” the argument. All it takes is a dialogue and platform that respects both sides, regardless of how ugly each person thinks the other’s opinions are, to begin chipping away at the massive divide that seems to have polarized our country and school recently. Simply honoring someone’s opinion by hearing it out, regardless of whether or not you agree with it, builds a sense of mutual respect.
The key to this is leaning into discomfort. If you have a far left opinion that you think no one will take seriously, lean into discomfort and voice it. If you have a far right opinion that you feel has no place at Pingry, step out of your comfort zone and let it be known. I believe Mr. Conard did an amazing job of stepping out of his comfort zone to address the school on such a contentious issue—setting an example we should be seeing more often from our school’s leadership in such divided times.
I urge you to follow his lead: join the open forums, attend affinity groups, and engage in difficult conversations. As long as you hold these dialogues in a productive way, without the goal of “winning” over or “beating” others, then you should find spaces to voice your opinion and lean all the way into discomfort. In Mr. Conard’s words, “I encourage you to engage in respectful dialogue about these issues—they are not going to go away.”
Oct 24, 2017 | Opinion
By Rachel Chen
I used to believe that if I didn’t read the end of a book, it never ended. Like if I didn’t finish Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix or Mockingjay, Sirius and Rue would go on existing perpetually, even aging and dying naturally. (Spoiler alert!) The characters would find a way out, and somehow everyone would live happily ever after. Or at least, you know, live.
That’s a bit like how I feel right now, at the start of my senior year. In the books of our high school lives, we’re hovering right on the precipice of the grand finale. There’s so much anxiety and suspense in the air, but there’s also this great sense of potential and excitement for the ending—it’s a rollercoaster ride and I don’t know if I’m screaming out of fear or exhilaration.
Because the thing is, I’m not scared of what I’ll find at the bottom. I know my friends and family will be there to catch me and cheer, just like I know every single one of us will go on to be happy, do great things, and change the world. It’s not the fear that gets me, but the anticipation. Where will I find myself when I open my eyes and catch my breath?
I honestly have no idea.
All I know is that our stories are shaped by the relationships we’ve formed, the roles we play, and the duties we owe. Every failed side quest and hilarious mishap has pushed us along; every Forbidden Forest explored and boss battle conquered has moved our character development and story arch. All this rising action leads up to an inevitable conclusion—and once we know that conclusion, we can never change it again. And that terrifies me. What if I close this chapter of my life regretting that I didn’t finish strong?
So I guess what I’ve realized is that now is a good time to evaluate the narrative I’ve written at Pingry and decide how I want it to end. Fortunately, it’s not yet set in stone. My fellow seniors and I are still writing; we still have a say in how our Pingry adventures wrap up. It’s not too late to change some storylines—to fix that friendship you lost in Chapter Five, say, or to tie up the loose ends from that misplaced romantic subplot. Certainly, it’s time to call upon that powerful wizard ally for advice and support. God only knows that we need all the help we can get in these next few months.
To my underclassmen too, all of you familiar faces I love and unfamiliar faces I can’t wait to meet: Now is the time to write. Write the story you want to read, the adventure you want to tell. Commit yourself to being the best and bravest version of yourself now, because all your sweat and tears add up. You will thank yourself for it later.
Now my question to you is: How do you want your story to end? And what are you going to do about it?
There will come a moment when we’ve all finished our journeys. We’ll turn the final page, close the cover, and mull over the endings we discovered. We’ll either set it on the shelf or burn it, depending on how you feel about your narrative. But either way we can’t go back to reread it, to experience it again for the first time.
That moment will inevitably arrive—after all, despite my denial, Sirius and Rue still die in their respective books—so let’s focus on the present, while we still hold the pen in our hands. Let’s write our stories as they’re being told. Let’s change the endings while we still can.
Oct 24, 2017 | Opinion
By Darlene Fung (V)
I still remember my first day of swimming lessons. Six-year-old me was splashing around, when my instructor clapped his hands and announced, “All right, you’re going to put your head in the water now!” I looked up at him through my oversized purple goggles and immediately shook my head. There was no way I was getting my face wet. The water was scary: there was so much unknown under there and, most importantly, there was no air. “Come on, just put your head under,” he said again. “One, two, thr— ,” and before I knew what was happening, a large hand dunked my face into the water. Needless to say, I came back up sputtering and crying.
Now, ten years later, I’m experiencing the same feeling I felt on my first day of swim lessons with the college recruiting process. Similar to that day, I am nervous, uncertain, and feel as if I have been tossed into something before I am ready.
Starting September 1, 2017, college coaches were officially allowed to begin recruiting swimmers in the class of 2019, relatively late compared to sports such as lacrosse and softball in which athletes may be recruited as early as middle school. Yet I still felt as if this whole process is starting way too early. After all, I’ve barely even started junior year, let alone taken the required standardized tests. It made me realize that while being able to commit early seems like a great opportunity, there are shortcomings to the system that should not be overlooked.
For those athletes who are recruited early and can commit to their dream school, their hard work has finally paid off and it appears to be smooth sailing ahead. However, a great deal can change in a few years. For instance, coaches may move to different schools so that by the time an athlete gets on campus, he or she may face a new coach and an unexpected training program. The team atmosphere may also be different by the time an athlete attends a college, because the players with whom the athlete met when he committed will be different than the teammates with whom he will play. Finally, the athlete himself or herself may change. What was the perfect school when an athlete committed may no longer be perfect as the athlete grows and his interests change. When asked about her recruiting experience, softball player Angelina Mayers (V) said, “I’ve waited to commit because you never know what may happen in the future. I had my heart set on one school in the past, but now I’m very interested in other schools.”
More importantly, early recruiting puts unwarranted stress on young athletes. In order to be recruited early and land a commitment to a top school, young athletes oftentimes put a lot of pressure on themselves to constantly perform well in front of college coaches. Mayers continued, “I am away almost every weekend either for a tournament or at a camp that a college coach asked me to go to.” Furthermore, those athletes who are working hard but are not offered commits feel added pressure to practice even harder to get coaches to notice them. This cycle risks overtraining and injury.
To young athletes who feel the pressures of early recruiting: Relax. Make sure you don’t get caught up in the frenzy. Take your time to explore your passions, do what you love, and get to know yourself, so you are ready to make the best decision for yourself when the time comes. At Pingry, we are lucky to have understanding and experienced advisors, college counselors, and coaches to guide us through the college process and help us make these important choices. With help, preparation, and knowledge of ourselves and what we hope to get out of the college experience, I think no athlete should have any trouble diving headfirst into the water.
