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The past two days have been just surreal. It's been such a blur that I can't even remember what went on, since everything went so fast. But, I'll put in this thought I had to entertain myself during the long, sticky, and stuffy ceremony.
For private schools and other places with a good reputation, they can take something that is mediocre in everyday life (ie classes) and make it appear so grand on the outside. Through speeches and other cosmetic things, it seems like we actually learned something, and did something meaningful from everything we did at HC .
Oh yeah, and here's the other thought. Why do some people achieve so much and succeed? It's not necessarily because of smarts and determination. Their parents and the school have pretty much set them up that way. They've laid the foundation for them, done all the dirty work, and even forced them to go down a particular path by relentlessly cheering them on like a coach. So, in the end, they get rewarded for being spoon fed.   | | |
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Here's to all the goofing off that happened during truth and dare at my house. If anything, this is proof that you don't need alcohol to get drunk. Sugar and friends are all that's necessary. | | |
| Day Three: May 26, 2006
Ify and I are one of the few lucky people who are able to wake up no earlier than 7am. For the past year or two, many of the boarders, whose rooms are right next to the Athletic Center construction, have been shaken out of what little sleep they have sometimes manage to get.
Making an effort not to eat more than my share at breakfast, I grabbed two slices of raisin bread and milk. At break, I passed the pain au chocolat for applesauce instead, although I still ate more today than I usually do. Had I stayed longer, I would have lost my fascination with caf food and eventually eaten less of it over the days. Instead of a free-for-all, it would shift to a “Been there done that” attitude.
It is true that the boarding school goes through phases as one. Like the Grade 12’s the day before, the Grade 11’s were immersed in their world of bio in preparation for their evaluation this afternoon. Although it technically did not concern them, the others were somber and gave understanding nods during the day as the 11’s continued to cram. The mood was not loosened up until everyone had overcome their stress.
At the end of the day, I returned upstairs to find everyone already changed and in high spirits. About thirteen 11’s and 12’s were in the BSO chatting it up with the dons while some others ventured to Mac’s to buy bags of junk food. Among them was a large chocolate cake and a tub of ice cream. This was not a normal Friday afternoon but the celebration for Sam’s 18th birthday and Janelle’s belated 18th birthday, which was the day before. There will be lots more sugar to come in the final weeks since many boarders have birthdays in May and June.
As they continued to prepare, I was faced with the dilemma of stuffing my bags. When I arrived, I had managed to fit some fifty-seven items into my backpack, including a pair of shoes and a sweatshirt. With all those extra books I had to bring back home to study for exams, backpack stuffing was clearly not possible. Actually, I ended up filling not just my backpack, but a shoulder bag that I had brought with me, plus four plastic bags.
What makes the boarding experience unique is that the people are extremely diverse yet unified. The individual differences that were encountered were not taken as points of conflict but rather ways to learn more about and from each other. Thus, there is a general harmony at boarding. It may seem that cliques form, especially at lunch tables, but that is only from the outside perspective of the day girl. In fact, boarders are comfortable with knocking on most people’s doors for anything, whether it is to check an essay, borrow a dress, or just to chat. In such an environment, major fights are rare. To survive within the confined space of the boarding school for a year with sixty girls, it is better to keep the peace and get to know everyone instead.
Although I would have loved to, I could not stay longer in the boarding school. However, I still lunch with them everyday and will continue to for the remainder of my high school career. It pains me to know that many of them will miss my graduation since they will be leaving for home as soon as exams end. So, in celebration of our friendship, I invite you to go crazy, have fun, and make the most of the last weeks of school.
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| Day Two: May 25, 2006
My first peaceful slumber in days was interrupted by the sound of Ify’s alarm clock at 7am. Don’t let that fool you. We ended up staying in bed for the next half-hour, when she finally got up to shower, and I dressed up for grad prayers.
Last night, my dad had called me to make sure I was coming home this evening for a Mandarin tutorial, which required a “Permission to Leave” slip from the BSO. I took the dons’ advice to be generous with the return time, since I risked getting a phone call home if I did not sign in by that time.
It is clear that boarding will be a far cry from university residence life. At boarding, the dons play the role of the big sister, boosting morale and looking out for them. What appears to be a tightly enforced set of rules are really there to help us maintain a sense of responsibility while in high school. I hope we won’t throw that out the window upon encountering freedom in university.
Even though this was not required of grads, I signed in at the breakfast table just before eight. For the 9’s to 11’s, being late for breakfast is one of the easiest ways to gain points that could potentially lead to being gated. Over my hot cereal and yogurt, Betty explained that the green gate, or the less severe form, meant signing in at the BSO every hour on Saturday from 9am to 9pm. The red gate was the same, except that this arduous process extended for the entire weekend. Tension was running high among several boarders who were close to being gated in the last weeks of school.
At the grad table, they thankfully stopped freaking each other out with their last-minute review of bio when the 12’s left early to prepare for the grad prayers. I also left to prepare for the release of Bluestocking.
All day, I could not shift back into day girl mode, especially when it came to break. All boarders are caf food junkies. You can tell them apart from the rest of the school when they grab one or even two of those fat-laden but irresistible pains au chocolat at break. Instinctually, I took one for myself and decided to eat less lunch. Since the BSO pinned up the complete menu, boarders have prior knowledge of what they will be eating for the rest of the week. At mealtimes, the boarders were seen choosing the same food in droves while the day girls must walk up and examine the food before making a decision.
Another best benefit of boarding was convenience. During spare, I was able to nap in my room instead of the noisy grad room, the stuffy resource center, or the music tower. Afterschool, I only needed to go upstairs to take a shower after running two kilometers in gym.
Upstairs, Seunghyun followed up with her now-solved mystery of her missing negatives. The rest of them, which had disappeared from her shelf, ended up in the possession of two Laura’s in her art class. In the confusion of the darkroom, they had mistaken it for theirs as they prepared to make prints for their final project. Case closed.
While many of the grads hung out in the BSO afterschool, Ify was glued to her computer seat with her French in the RC. Meanwhile, I continued typing. After a quick dinner, I was whisked back home for my tutorial and returned by 7:45. In doing so, I missed a crazy Asian bubble tea night with the Hope family at the Empress Walk. The rest of the boarders were at study, so I headed up to the Chatterbox. Usually I struggle for days on end to come up with even 1000 words for an English essay, but I managed to finish all 1600 words of my first journal entry by 9:00.
I also received my first bit of advice about taking French in university from Nerin. Not knowing I would eventually spend four years in Quebec, I dropped French in Grade nine. Even if knowing French in Montreal is not a necessity, it is still a valuable social skill. According to her, my best bet was to learn from Quebecois friends to gain practice.
Many of the boarders are well-traveled, and Nerin is no exception. An Egyptian by birth, she spent her elementary years in a French school while her cousins attended a German school. Then, her father’s business took her to Dubai and even Beijing before coming to Havergal. Not proficient in languages myself, I only wish I could understand four languages.
That evening, the boarding school was eerily silent–the 12’s, exhausted from staying up late the last night, were in bed. Even the Asian Hallway, home to several known procrastinators, was dark. Apparently, the impending bio final performance assessment for the Grade 11’s did not deter them from falling asleep early.
Finding Christina and Iola awake, I entered their room and sucked on sour keys while I discussed Shad Valley, US university applications, and their summer plans. Christina, who has ditched Shad for Korea, will instead be spending ten days at Johns Hopkins with People to People. Like many other Korean boarders, she strives to be accepted by a reputable business school in the States. However, unlike the hardcore parents of Michelle Kim and Betty, Christina will not be sent to kill three months of her summer at a Korean SAT camp. Iola will return to the food heaven of Hong Kong, a place I have never stayed for longer than two days at one time since I was six.
This year’s graduation will be hard on Betty. An eighteen-year-old eleventh grader, she has made many friends in the graduating class. She has yet to take my suggestion of skipping Grade 12 to join me in McGill.
For the non-12’s, another day had come to a close, but it was only 9:30. The fridge was almost empty: there were four cartons of chocolate milk left and not much else. While I unconsciously pulled out a piece of cheese, one of the dons returned from walking the new boarding dog, the cocker spaniel Fern. One of four dogs at boarding, Fern lives in the boarding house 24/7 with another black dog.
I realized I have visited the fridge four times that evening. Food is completely taken for granted at boarding. At the same time while I was picking the fridge, the dons were having a late night snack of Lucky Charms in the BSO. No wonder the boarders had their own version of the Freshman 15, called the “Havergal 10.” I vowed to practice self-control the next day.
Returning to my room to find Ify laughing, she had received a rejection letter from Western despite having an average 10 marks above the cutoff point. Why should she care about Western now that her future is set at Vanderbilt? Refusing to slow down, this girl is not to be underestimated. She began school in Nigeria, and then lived in Tunisia and Texas before moving to Havergal, skipping three grades in the process. Had she not been held back a year, Ify, just 16, could have already been in university.
When I was in Christina’s room, I had forgotten to borrow Betty’s novel, “My Sister’s Keeper.” Thanks to her, the entire boarding school was addicted to that book. Back in my room, Ify lent me her chick lit while she read another book until midnight, when it was finally time to call it a day. | | |
| May 24, 2006
This whole idea was born in a lunchtime conversation
with the boarders, so nobody thought I was serious. But why wouldn’t I
be? In the beginning of the year, the boarders were the people I merely
said hi to in the hallways, but now, I spend almost every lunch at
their table.
From them, I had heard much about boarding: that the
entire boarding community went through emotional phases as one, or that
the pasta sauce from lunch was recycled into the minestrone for dinner.
“Extended summer camp, except with homework,” is what my cousin, who
lives in a private all-boys school, calls boarding. Essentially, I
didn’t want to miss out. It was the last two weeks of a school I have
attended since I was eight, so what better way to say goodbye than in
the company of friends?
I decided to take a shot at boarding life by
contacting Ms Purvis, the head of boarding, who immediately made
arrangements for me to stay for two nights. Afterwards, I dropped by
the Boarding School Office about ten times in the next five minutes to
ask about the schedule, but the dons were approachable enough to enjoy
the conversation. My key tag even had “Welcome Michelle ☺” written in
pink metallic pen with stickers on it, and my door sign was already
decorated. In addition, my room was deigned by a Havergal old girl,
with custom bedspreads and décor, three closets, and my own shower and
bathroom–otherwise known as the best room in boarding. I suspect my
university residence will be half that size.
At around four o’clock, I had almost given up my
hunt for boarders in the empty hallways when a sulking Seunghyun
appeared. As for finding people, she replied, “No way, man! They’re
still doing day school stuff.” Then launching into the mystery of her
stolen negatives, which somehow traveled from the darkroom to other
people’s shelves, and some of them ended up in the trash in the grad
common room, we wound up in her room with her roommate Karishma. She
was more welcoming and talkative than usual. Yes, my TA “ta” buddy had
a reputation for being extroverted, but this was the first time I had a
long conversation with her, and I wish I had known her that well a long
time ago.
At five, dinner was served, but barely anyone was
there to attend on time. In fact, the only time the boarders must show
up on the dot is on Monday night for a formal “family” dinner. Headed
by my new don, Ms Hope, my family now consisted of many of my friends,
and had I stayed longer, she would have taken me on outings during the
weekend. In fact, in the calendar pinned up by my roommate, the
boarding captain Ify the “African Queen”; it showed certain special
events such as teddy bear stuffing or Wonderland days. Indeed, the Hope
family not only functioned as a surrogate family, but also had many
“sisters” that would make any day eventful.
This was my first meal as a boarder, yet I was
already shifting into the boarder mentality. Free to take seconds at
dinner, I proceeded to bring more food even though I was not hungry. In
fact, little Karishma took this to the extreme, and once binged 14
greasy and thick cookies despite being full. It was not surprising
then, that the dinner conversation revolved around the Freshman 15.
After dinner, all the Grade 11’s and 12’s were called to the EK for a
special presentation by two paramedics. Choosing not to drink and drive
was the theme of the slide show. Next was a video filmed at a formal
after-party, which portrayed a drunk girl, Julia, who had downed 14
shots of vodka and, was taken advantage of, and was rushed to the
hospital for alcohol poisoning. Julia and her boyfriend, in this case,
was so drunk that while drinking, he licked off the salt that she put
on her wrist. Afterwards, he exclaimed, “I’ll take you to another
country, like Europe. Or Nairobi. Nairobi!” Then, when she collapsed,
her boyfriend pretended to be a paramedic. Honestly, it is the
stupidest thing to voluntarily get wasted in an unfamiliar place and be
placed in the hands of people who aren’t responsible and can’t be
trusted.
When the video was over, the paramedic explained the use of several
pieces of equipment that they use. Meanwhile, Fernanda volunteered to
be hooked up to a heart rate monitor while he continued demonstrating.
When the paramedic talked about the defibrillator, which stops and
restarts the heart, someone yelled out, “Let’s try that on Fernanda!”
To the laughter of the boarders, her heart rate raced from 80 to almost
213 just from the thought of that.
Since the presentation ran late, the remainder of study time till eight
was to be spent in their own rooms or the “Chatterbox,” their computer
lab. Usually, this privilege was reserved only for grads, whereas the
rest of the boarding would spend study time in the resource center
downstairs.
Just after eight, I heard many voices exclaiming from outside the
Chatterbox, where I was typing up this journal. The 11’s and 12’s had
all gathered around Minal to celebrate her 18th birthday with a
homemade chocolate cake. In her honor, Tarifen, my chemistry partner,
had even bought a box of Maltesers, which was passed around to
everyone. However, this was not a free ride for Minal, who was
subsequently dragged off to exercise her rights as an adult and buy a
Super 7 lottery ticket at Mac’s. But no matter how small, a celebration
with friends as close as siblings is the best birthday I could ever
wish for.
Iola, an eleventh grader, suddenly offered me an impromptu tour of the
boarding school as I was walking out of the common area. Fitting
the description of a typical little sister, this tall sixteen-year-old
is really a child at heart. As she showed me around, I noticed some
boarders bringing bags of food back from their shopping, which reminded
me of the abundance of food in the boarding school. Although they have
said otherwise, boarders never seem to lack food, especially in the
form of sugar. Boarding food staples include chocolate milk, bananas,
cereal, yogurt, cheese, and chocolate. From time to time, other treats
appear in the kitchenette, and as a boarder, I couldn’t resist picking
up a chocolate milk while I explored the building. I also peered inside
the stuffed fridge, and made a mental note to check on it the next day
to see how much food will have disappeared.
The first item on the “agenda” was the “Asian Hallway,” which,
for whatever reason, was inhabited solely by Chinese and Korean girls.
It was then when I realized, that many of my connections to the
boarding school were forged with people in this hallway during class,
at the lunch table, extracurricular, or through friends.
As Iola continued to play her position as the innocently honest tour
guide, she pointed out the mistake of one boarder. This girl had
forgotten to label her box when she dropped her clothes into the
laundry basket to be washed, and they were now placed into the nameless
pile. But lost or not, it is not uncommon for clothes to be passed
around.
After passing the big and small common room, the next stop was second
floor, home to many of the 11’s and 12’s. The cutest retreat of all was
Judy’s room, where she could climb out the window onto a patio that
overlooked the wooded Havergal property. From the outside, it was a
path that led to a triangular “house” with one window and one door.
Walking in the land of Havergal at nine in flip-flops is a strange
experience. The institutional school property I had known for so long
suddenly did have that campy feeling my cousin had described. This was
not just because I had explored the Woodland Trail. Iola also mentioned
how the boarders had thrown snowball fights in the parking lot in
January, or how she would stare at the stars in June.
As a day girl, I usually stayed indoors and so the ivy-covered
buildings, and the departments, such as the greenhouse in the bio lab,
were only in the background. But now as a boarder, I began to notice
them and wonder what it would it be like if this was really my home.
Nine-thirty was the curfew, and everyone, except the grads, was
expected to be in their rooms. It was then when I finally was able to
talk to Ify, who was mortified at the final performance assessment she
would face in biology the next day. While I tried to remember as much
as I could to help her, Julia came by to quiz Ify. As an AP student who
had finished early, I could only nod along while they regurgitated
details I had already forgotten.
I had heard about many a day when the boarders would forego sleep until
sunrise because they were studying. Others woke up early for morning
extracurriculars, and so I imagined that somebody in the boarding
school was awake at any given time. However, this was not the case with
Ify, who slept at 11.
In seven hours I had experienced one of the most action-packed days of
my life. It amazes me to know how much stuff goes on in my head on any
day, and if I don’t write it down, how much stuff I would forget.
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