Alyssa Bui '23
As you may know, this past Friday was opening night for the musical, The Theory of Relativity by Neil Bartram— the Close’s first virtual musical! Since the play, the theatre program has technologically advanced and is more adjusted to a virtual platform. Thanks to faculty and thespian leadership, the winter musical was able to transition to Zoom while maintaining normal aspects of a production such as musical numbers, costumes, and more! According to co-Thespian President Eleanor Boomhower, our Thespian leadership team has had many conversations with Mr. Bishop and Mr. Straub in order to figure out how to “make [the musical] still rewarding, filled with community, and also how to make it high quality without being super-taxing on everyone working on it”. From an outsider’s perspective, a virtual musical may seem strange and confusing. That isn’t wrong. However, few actually realize how much thought and hard work was put into this production. For the past three months, castmembers attended zoom rehearsals on an almost daily basis. With castmembers dedicating almost 100 hours to the show, rehearsals consisted of learning music and choreography, acting, and lots of recording. As one of the production coordinators, I witnessed many of the behind-the-scenes aspects of the musical. Thus, I’m here to give you all a better idea of how the musical you (most definitely) watched earlier this week came together! This article will focus on three aspects of the production: singing, acting, and dancing. So first, how did the musical numbers exist when actors couldn’t sing together? The answer is the use of digital recordings. After learning music, cast members recorded their individual tracks to meet dozens of submission deadlines. Each of the 24 castmembers submitted 14 to over 30 recordings for this production. For many, this process was stressful and time consuming since singers redid their recordings many times. Teddy Palmore says that he made “like one hundred recordings since the beginning of the show”. Mr. Straub informed me that students created around 400 tracks. He guessed that “between creating the master tracks, compiling cast members’ recordings, and editing the mix, [he] probably [spent] at least 55 hours”. From these recordings, he created the final audio tracks that Mr. Lampasona aligned with the visuals. In addition to recording audio tracks, castmembers separately produced muted video recordings of dialogue, dancing, and singing. To produce these recordings, the cast split into breakout rooms. In each of these rooms, a production coordinator or adult would use the record function of zoom while sharing computer sound. While it seems simple, recordings required a lot of work! Before rehearsals, green screens, ring lights, and computers were meticulously arranged to prevent poor image quality. On top of that, actors had to imitate eye contact and human interaction. For every scene, song, and transition, we recorded at around four takes so that Mr. Lampasona—who ended up working with around 300 shots— could make each scene look as good as possible! He spent around 300 hours of impressive digital work for this show. If we look at the longest scene, Mr. Lampasona explains that it’s “six minutes of twenty-four people”, which gets complicated. “Getting all twenty-four people, with all twenty-four looks, in twenty-four locations for each time they appear” took him multiple days. In addition to placement and effects, Mr. Lampasona aligned all of the audio tracks to the video recordings: “even one-fiftieth of a second sometimes was crucial to getting the sound to line up with [the actors’] mouths”. Since this was a dance number, he also paid attention to how synced the dancers were! So, let’s talk about dancing. Usually, castmembers dance and sing simultaneously. However, that’s changed since the audio was separate. For this show, we worked with three choreographers who taught dance numbers via zoom. Ms. Pierce, who choreographed the ensemble pieces, articulated that “it’s different when people are on a stage versus when they are on a screen, it was definitely a challenge, but it was also really cool to try and do something different”. Some of these obstacles included lagging zooms and “finding a middleground that everyone looked good doing” since incorporating soloists within dance numbers was difficult over zoom. For Kendall Brady, dancing with the constraints of a zoom box could be “ frustrating”, although seeing others on zoom was “helpful when [she] was confused”. Overall, the theatre faculty and castmembers created a wonderful performance despite the confines of zoom and covid-19. Next time you see a thespian who worked on the show, make sure to congratulate them now that you better understand how much work went into The Theory of Relativity!
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Ethan D'Amato '21
St. Albans is a school built on its academic prowess, strength of character, and the strength of brotherhood that it instills in its students. These characteristics are all built through the robust tradition that pervades every aspect of student life. Whether it be Family Lunch, our dress code, or something else, every tradition at St. Albans serves a purpose, yet one of them seems outdated: the sports requirement. Sports are a tricky topic at STA. There are some who swear by them and have been to every BEEF game. Others, though, have never even participated in a team sport at St. Albans and avoid every BEEF game like the plague. Each of these people have had valid STA experiences and go through school, but only one of them is supported by the administration. Only one of them gets support while the other is forced to conform. Now, I'm not here to argue which one provides a better STA experience because I see the value in both, but it is my firm belief that the sports requirement at STA is poorly thought out. Nowhere is this more obvious than in St. Albans’ poor excuse for a personal fitness program. Instead of offering personal trainers or specialists to help kids stay in shape, STA brings in its out of season coaches to run what essentially is a lower schooler’s PE class. Upper School students play dodgeball or knockout and rarely ever get space in the weight room or help in terms of fitness. Instead of feeling like a fitness program meant to help students stay in shape, it often feels like intramurals were created to run out the clock until students in other sports are finished. This means that students feel obligated to join a team sport where their time isn’t wasted, and they can get the support they need to stay in shape. If St. Albans won’t support the only non-competitive outlet for fitness, why have a sports requirement at all? Some people find their competitive outlet in sports. They love football, wrestling, and a myriad of other competitive activities, but competition doesn't only come from sports. Whether it be chess, robotics, or ItsAcademic, people can find their competitive outlet anywhere and get invested in a myriad of things. Yet, in order to get a decent physical education from STA, one has to invest themselves into team sports. Often, people don’t have time for both so they are forced to choose one: physical health or their passion. No one should have to make that choice. STA seriously needs to reconsider the way it structures sports, before anyone else has to make that choice. Sasha Perkins ‘22
In 4th grade, a kid in my class confidently came into school in an oversized t-shirt that read FUCK THE POLICE in bold white letters. Although I completely agree with his message, it definitely wasn’t appropriate for a nine-year-old to wear to class at an Episcopal elementary school. Don’t get me wrong, 2014 was the perfect time to teach young, mostly white, private school kids about race relations. However, I am grateful that our relaxed dress code forced the young activist to put on a neon orange Nike sweatshirt (you know the one) from the lost and found. Imagine if his t-shirt was a confederate flag or swastika. Dress codes are imperative for censoring attire that may be offensive or distracting to the classroom. But there are other reasons why dress codes help us get through our day. In my case, it eliminates most of the choices of leggings, ripped jeans, sweatpants, and tube tops from my closet. I’m left with just a few simple pairs of plain jeans and a bland sweater, making my morning routine that much faster. However, a dress code still gives those who want to experiment with new trends and styles with the freedom to do so. Want to try on the latest NYC streetwear? Go ahead! Want to be a millennial? Skinny jeans are at your disposal! Want to be alt? I’ll even compliment you on your big bottoms and small tops. A good (pre covid) dress code gives the flexibility of fashion with the routine and regularity of rules. Speaking of rules, the purpose of school is to teach you how to follow them. When you step out of the nicely paved borders of the Close, you have to be able to abide by the structure of society, whether it be in a university setting or at the workplace. We might desperately need to wear those plain dress pants and bland sweaters, which we wore once a semester to cathedral, to a job interview someday. At the end of the (school) day, a dress code, unlike a uniform, preserves freedom of expression while maintaining an efficient work environment. And to those still wanting to wear profanity so school: relax! You can still wear your derogatory polos on the weekends. Alyssa Bui ‘23
As you may know, this past Friday was opening night for the musical, The Theory of Relativity by Neil Bartram— the Close’s first virtual musical! Since the play, the theatre program has technologically advanced and is more adjusted to a virtual platform. Thanks to faculty and thespian leadership, the winter musical was able to transition to Zoom while maintaining normal aspects of a production such as musical numbers, costumes, and more! According to co-Thespian President Eleanor Boomhower, our Thespian leadership team has had many conversations with Mr. Bishop and Mr. Straub in order to figure out how to “make [the musical] still rewarding, filled with community, and also how to make it high quality without being super-taxing on everyone working on it”. From an outsider’s perspective, a virtual musical may seem strange and confusing. That isn’t wrong. However, few actually realize how much thought and hard work was put into this production. For the past three months, castmembers attended zoom rehearsals on an almost daily basis. With castmembers dedicating almost 100 hours to the show, rehearsals consisted of learning music and choreography, acting, and lots of recording. As one of the production coordinators, I witnessed many of the behind-the-scenes aspects of the musical. Thus, I’m here to give you all a better idea of how the musical you (most definitely) watched earlier this week came together! This article will focus on three aspects of the production: singing, acting, and dancing. So first, how did the musical numbers exist when actors couldn’t sing together? The answer is the use of digital recordings. After learning music, cast members recorded their individual tracks to meet dozens of submission deadlines. Each of the 24 castmembers submitted 14 to over 30 recordings for this production. For many, this process was stressful and time consuming since singers redid their recordings many times. Teddy Palmore says that he made “like one hundred recordings since the beginning of the show”. Mr. Straub informed me that students created around 400 tracks. He guessed that “between creating the master tracks, compiling cast members’ recordings, and editing the mix, [he] probably [spent] at least 55 hours”. From these recordings, he created the final audio tracks that Mr. Lampasona aligned with the visuals. In addition to recording audio tracks, castmembers separately produced muted video recordings of dialogue, dancing, and singing. To produce these recordings, the cast split into breakout rooms. In each of these rooms, a production coordinator or adult would use the record function of zoom while sharing computer sound. While it seems simple, recordings required a lot of work! Before rehearsals, green screens, ring lights, and computers were meticulously arranged to prevent poor image quality. On top of that, actors had to imitate eye contact and human interaction. For every scene, song, and transition, we recorded at around four takes so that Mr. Lampasona—who ended up working with around 300 shots— could make each scene look as good as possible! He spent around 300 hours of impressive digital work for this show. If we look at the longest scene, Mr. Lampasona explains that it’s “six minutes of twenty-four people”, which gets complicated. “Getting all twenty-four people, with all twenty-four looks, in twenty-four locations for each time they appear” took him multiple days. In addition to placement and effects, Mr. Lampasona aligned all of the audio tracks to the video recordings: “even one-fiftieth of a second sometimes was crucial to getting the sound to line up with [the actors’] mouths”. Since this was a dance number, he also paid attention to how synced the dancers were! So, let’s talk about dancing. Usually, castmembers dance and sing simultaneously. However, that’s changed since the audio was separate. For this show, we worked with three choreographers who taught dance numbers via zoom. Ms. Pierce, who choreographed the ensemble pieces, articulated that “it’s different when people are on a stage versus when they are on a screen, it was definitely a challenge, but it was also really cool to try and do something different”. Some of these obstacles included lagging zooms and “finding a middleground that everyone looked good doing” since incorporating soloists within dance numbers was difficult over zoom. For Kendall Brady, dancing with the constraints of a zoom box could be “ frustrating”, although seeing others on zoom was “helpful when [she] was confused”. Overall, the theatre faculty and castmembers created a wonderful performance despite the confines of zoom and covid-19. Next time you see a thespian who worked on the show, make sure to congratulate them now that you better understand how much work went into The Theory of Relativity! Lila Osborne ‘22
Over the course of the online and hybrid school, the importance of dress code has significantly gone down. Students having the ability to wear what they want and still perform in school shows the lack of correlation between more professional dress and ability to learn. I think people should be able to wear what they feel comfortable learning in, and sometimes jeans are not that thing. Before COVID, I would consistently go to school in some sort of jeans, skirt, top combo, as that was what was expected of me by the dress code. These sorts of clothes tended to be less comfortable, and I would find myself distracted in class by the discomfort of my clothes, repeatedly adjusting whatever I was wearing. Now in virtual school, I just wear what I find most comfortable, and spend significantly less time being distracted by what I am wearing. If you were to ask almost any student at NCS right now, I bet they would say that they are happier with our new, more relaxed dress code for hybrid school. Another thing about having no dress code, is that it allows people to wear what they want with no limitation. People are free to express themselves however they want in the absence of a dress code. If someone wanted to wear an outfit with jeans and nice shirt they would be allowed, as well as if someone wanted to wear sweatshirt and leggings. Dress Codes also lead to the ability for unnecessary punishments. While in some cases clothing can be inappropriate for a school environment, strict dress code rules often make it hard for everyone to fit into those standards. The same clothing can look very different on people of different heights and body types, and dress codes can lead to people getting in trouble just because of their size. I have noticed taller people getting penalized for the length of their skirts much more than their shorter classmates, as having longer legs can make some clothing items look much revealing. I think all students recognize the importance of professionalism, and are well equipped to know when sweatpants or pants are appropriate, so the enforcement of dress code to teach this lesson is unnecessary and places a higher importance on appearance in a place that should be focused on education. Scott Speaker '23
Although traditional and clean, the St. Albans dress code can be a burden for students (in non-COVID times, of course). From waking up earlier to cramming all your nice clothes into an old locker for sports, the formal required at STA is a pain in the neck. Speaking from experience, waking up an extra 15 minutes early to put on my button-down, khakis, tie, and coat, is a unpleasant experience. It is especially painful knowing these clothes will be sent to the dry-cleaners following only one or two days of wear; they get crammed into a locker before sports and into my backpack afterwards. This turns into somewhat of a cycle, that is needing clean clothes everyday but all my clothes being in dire need of a wash. I think I speak for all students when I say I don't have time to iron my clothes every night after a long practice and with lots of assignments looming. When applying to St. Albans, my thought process was along the lines of, “I won’t have to care about how I look, I’m here to learn, not to impress girls.” The dress code ruins that emphasis on academics in a way. Instead of focusing on the day ahead, I constantly have to worry about if I have clean clothes to wear. Another flaw to the dress code issue is the price of these clothes. After careful research (I averaged the price of different articles of clothing I found on Amazon), I’ve uncovered the following costs: the minimum price for a button-down shirt is around thirty dollars, a decent blazer is around a hundred dollars, and a decent pair of trousers are around twenty bucks. Not to mention that you will need more than one of all of these (minus the jacket). The expenses can add up for parents, especially considering that they’re buying all these nice clothes for their teenage son who will probably grow out of them in a year. And although there are cheap methods for acquiring these clothes, like I said earlier, the dry-cleaning bills add up fast. There is a much more cost effective way to go about looking clean in school; maybe lower the standard to a polo (average cost is around $12) and khakis and lose the jacket and tie. While I agree looking professional is important, we’re going to school, not Wall Street (for now at least). Some would argue that we dress this way to teach us about how to look professional in the real world. This is my response: what’s unprofessional about a polo and khakis? It’s tough to follow the dress code especially when students know they’re wearing these uncomfortable clothes for 6 hours just to cram them into a dirty locker and spend ten bucks at the dry cleaners later in the week (remember the cycle; the money adds up quickly). Again, there is an easy alternative: polos. At the end of the day, this is not the most pressing issue in the world, especially since the uniform requirements have changed significantly for the time being. But why not give this matter a bit of thought? Need I remind you, school is for learning, not impressing people with looks. Carter Steinberg '22
The St. Albans dress code is more than just an annoying rule to abide by: it is one of the most well-known aspects of St. Albans and a cultural staple since the school’s founding. But why, over a hundred years later, do we still enforce this policy? The most apparent reason is tradition. The dress code is ingrained in our culture. If we were to abolish it, we would be taking away an integral aspect of the school’s identity. Furthermore, it brings the community together and promotes an equal and cohesive environment by having us all look similar in a respectful fashion. The dress code is the universal equalizer—whenever you don the coat and tie, you are a St. Albans man first and foremost. It is the one thing all St. Albans boys share; even if it’s through mutual disdain, it brings us together. Beyond the cultural aspects, the dress code has several upsides. Primarily, it creates a more professional environment that promotes learning. Of course, there are benefits to being comfortable in sweatpants and a hoodie during the school day or for an assessment. But, I would argue there are just as many advantages to being dressed in a jacket and tie. Mainly, it creates a traditional and professional working environment and teaches us how to dress in a dignified manner, a skill we can use for the rest of our lives. Second, school dress makes free dress matter. If we wore whatever we wanted every day of the year, we would no longer have rowdy table-pounding and shouting whenever Mr. Robinson happily announces free dress for the following day. Free dress also helps us appreciate the time saved in the morning when we don’t have to adorn our customary attire. The dress code facilitates all of this while being a sign of mutual respect to students, faculty, and the school itself. The most prominent counter-argument regarding the dress code is that students lose their sense of individuality due to its strict regulations. I don’t think this is the case. The dress code is not a uniform; it gives us a blank slate where we can pick and choose our dress and, through that, display our individuality. Whether it’s adding a piece of jewelry, wearing a favorite pair of shoes, styling a comical tie, or even crowing an outfit with a unique blazer, there are countless ways to show individuality within the constraints of the dress code. Another common counter-argument is that the dress code is not cheap. This fact is true, but having a dress code primarily made up of professional attire is expensive. Additionally, many places, from thrift stores to our school exchange, sell quality, inexpensive, used clothes that fit within the guidelines. The dress code is certainly not a perfect situation, but it is ours to embrace. It is a shared tradition that every St. Albans man has had to abide by for over a hundred years, and upholding it is integral to our school’s culture. Kiki Shahida ‘21
Warning to future seniors: as soon as someone hears you say you’re a senior in high school, they will demand answers about your college application experience. It seems everyone is dying to know where you’ve applied, where you’ve heard back from, or where you’re going next fall. You will undoubtedly develop a standard response to avoid further conversation, something along the lines of “Sorry, I’m not sure yet,” or, “Oh, I’m waiting on a few more schools.” I promise you, everyone you meet will want to know every detail, whether they’re your Great Aunt or your mailman. It gets annoying. It’s almost worth lying about your age and saying you’re still a junior, in which case your standard reply might be, “Yeah, junior year is really hard. No, I don’t sleep.” Personally, I’m pretty open about my college application experience. I think at NCS specifically, we put too much pressure on ourselves and on each other, and some students try too hard to act top-secret when it comes to their college list. If someone asks me where I’ve gotten in, I’m okay with telling them; and if someone asks me where I’ve been rejected, I’m also okay with telling them. The reality of the college process is characterized by both acceptances and rejections, and in my opinion, no one should be bashful or ashamed of either. So, in response to being bashful of your acceptances: If I tell a classmate that I just failed an assessment, and they excitedly tell me they aced the same assessment, I’m probably going to be bothered by their lack of bashfulness. However, I do not think this analogy applies to college admissions. If I tell a classmate that I was rejected from a college, and they tell me they got in, I should not feel annoyed. I should be happy for them. I think it’s definitely normal to be sort of upset in this situation, but this is where being the bigger person and celebrating your classmate’s achievement really matters. As for being ashamed of rejections, I know college rejections don’t feel good. They suck. Luckily, no one is alone in being disappointed by a rejection. Rejections (unfortunately) happen to everyone. And rejections do not reflect your intelligence or your character—I swear—the whole college process is a crapshoot. Someone with a lower GPA and lower test score might have been accepted to a “better” college than you. Or, someone might have been rejected from the school that their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents all attended. There is a point between pressing “submit” on your Common App and pressing “open” on your college portal at which you have zero control. Despite how much it truly does suck, I don’t think it’s fair to take out one’s disappointment on others and use it to diminish their success. I’m not really an “everything happens for a reason” type of person, but I do believe in this sentiment when it comes to the college process. I know many college students who are grateful to have been rejected from their Early Decisions, as they otherwise wouldn’t have ended up at the schools they love today. Plus, (seniors, you’re probably exhausted of hearing this) you can make any school the perfect school for you, even if it wasn’t the school you initially saw yourself attending. By senior year, we’ve all pushed ourselves more than we might have thought possible four years ago. We’ve worked in the library for millions of hours, met with AP science teachers during every free moment, and cried gallons of tears over English essays and Foner’s yellow textbook. No matter where we end up in the future, all of us have worked incredibly hard to get through high school at NCS. So, when we do finally accept an offer to spend the next four years of our lives off of the Close, we absolutely deserve to celebrate. This is why I am for-posting about college acceptances. I think we should each feel proud to show-off our successes (within reason) and should try to support other’s successes even if we must temporarily swallow our pride. We will all end up at amazing schools, and we have all worked incredibly hard to get there. So, why not post a ridiculously decorated Instagram story? Camila Leiva ‘21
“So proud of you! Congrats on (enter prestigious college name here)!!” I’m sure you’ve seen, and even posted, this exact Instagram story before. Seniors sharing their friends’ college decisions on social media is not a new phenomenon, it’s been around for as long as I’ve been in high school and probably before. Although I have many friends who have committed and/or been accepted to their top choice colleges, I have chosen to stray from the popular choice of posting about it on my social media accounts. Rather, I’ve chosen to reserve the space for my friends’ deferrals and rejections for a multitude of reasons. For me, posting a college acceptance to my story would seem insincere and distant. I don’t see a reason to express how proud I am of my friends to all of my Instagram followers. Contacting and congratulating them in private is my way of genuinely expressing my excitement for them. I have found that cultivating relationships in private, rather than on a platform where irrelevant people can see, brings me much less anxiety and more genuine friendships. “But Camila, you’re not private about rejections...” Okay true. You got me. Although I have tried to stay more private about my life recently, I believe posting rejections reaps more positives than negatives. Rejections are more commonplace than acceptances, but they’re seen as a matter to keep private: an embarrassment of yourself and your achievements. But it’s just a part of the gamble of the college process that needs to be normalized. A rejected student’s work is not any less noteworthy or valuable than that of an accepted one. Defining the achievements and intelligence of a person by what college they get into is not productive, and it can lead to rejected students themselves thinking they are less worthy. It can be exhausting to see everyone get into college when you haven’t been accepted to a single one, or not one of your top choices. You truly start to feel it wear down on you after a while. If you aren’t or haven’t been a senior, you might not know what I’m talking about, but you will in a few years. It’s taxing and tiring, and it makes me want to delete the entire Instagram app altogether sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I am SO happy for my fellow 2021 stars that are getting into colleges perfect for them. I just feel left behind sometimes, and I know I’m not alone in this feeling. *crying emoji* Lastly, ask yourself what you would do if a close friend decided to go to community college or trade school? Would you post for them? This is a question you should ask yourself. They could have chosen it for a multitude of reasons - from economic to access. Since we don’t see this decision much, or even at all, on the Close, we fail to understand how common of a choice it is. The bubble of privilege we live in does not allow us to see the outside perspective on community college and trade schools. Parents and students alike look down upon students who choose these paths, and to change the narrative some, I’ve chosen to stop posting college acceptances. I don’t care where my friends go to college. I am always proud of them and support them in whatever ways they need. If you or your friends go to community college, I hope you will also support yourself and/or your friends as much as you would if they went to a traditional four-year university. Lucas Pavia '21
Suffering. That’s the first word that comes to mind when I look back on my three visits to Camp Tall Timbers with the St. Albans Football Team. Uneven playing fields—which just happen to be covered in deer poop—no air conditioning, two-inch-thick mattresses, camp isn’t exactly a five-star summer getaway. Nor should it be. While it’s true that suffering is the first word that comes to mind when I think about Tall Timbers, that doesn’t mean it’s the defining word. So, what is? Unity. Discipline. Competition. Perseverance. The list goes on. Nothing unites a team quite like learning how to tackle discomfort, pun intended. Discipline and competition together make up the solution to suffering or discomfort. The more disciplined we are throughout practice—going hard on every rep, shutting up while the coaches are talking, holding each other accountable—the more we get out of it, and the easier it is to get through. Competition introduces some fun. It also brings out our best. Up on the whiteboard in the St. Albans weight room is a quotation that perhaps describes the importance of competition most succinctly: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another” (Proverbs 27:17). Not to mention, properly monitored competition teaches sportsmanship by emphasizing respect for your opposition. That leaves perseverance. Perhaps more than anything, camp teaches the team how to persevere through adversity. In my opinion, sports are essential to the development of high school students, and participation in them should be required. I use the example of Camp Tall Timbers because to me, it represents everything that’s valuable about athletics. Of course, that’s not to say that football is the best sport or that everyone should sign up for it. Any form of team sport will instill the principles I listed above. At this point, it’s common knowledge that regular exercise (aside from being generally healthy) relieves stress and promotes deeper sleep. Good luck convincing me that anyone on the Close couldn’t use some help in those departments. In addition to the principles of discipline, perseverance, and competitiveness, a team sport teaches you how to work with others and removes your focus on yourself—even if only for a little while. I don’t mean to assert that sports are perfect or always a positive experience. I myself have had negative ordeals with sports or coaches, but I don’t regret those times in the slightest. Injuries, while frustrating, provide another opportunity to triumph over an adversity and come back to the team better than you left it. Conflicts with coaches have taught me to advocate for myself. I’m also not implying that athletics are the only extracurricular activities that teach these important life skills. The value of the arts is not to be questioned either. At schools like STA and NCS, we should strive to be well-rounded individuals who appreciate the benefits of both arts and athletics (and of course, academics). Bottom line: I love sports. I’m biased, and I’ll be the first to admit it. But everyone should occasionally engage in activities that they’re not super enthusiastic about. How are we meant to improve ourselves if we always remain in our comfort zone? There are plenty of options in terms of teams to join, and in a worst-case scenario where you just absolutely despise everything available to you, you can do intramurals, which is still better than nothing. To return to Tall Timbers for a moment, I often find myself reflecting on those three trips as formative high school experiences. One night on my third time at camp sticks out. The boys gathered, without coaches, and simply talked about the upcoming season. We set goals. We talked about past failures. We came together, as a team. That hour is one of the most motivational, goosebump-inducing, perfect memories that I have. Tall Timbers seems like hell on earth while you’re there—the muddy practices, the tired mornings, the sweaty nights. But whenever I think about my three trips there, I’m left with one thought: I wish I could’ve had a fourth. |
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