4|
Red the hair grows: how I grew to love my hair Lucy Dockter ‘23 Editor-in-Chief
W
hen people look at me, I know the first thing they see: my hair. It is bright red and curly-cue curly. The rest of my family has dark, straight, brown hair. They wake up in the morning, brush out the knots and the tangles, smooth it flat against their heads, and are good to go. But when I try the same, my crimson corkscrews grow into a lion’s mane. I’ve learned to leave the house, no matter how my hair looks. My hair has a mind of her own, never sitting still, twisting off in random directions. Some people will try to push
stray curls (the ones that stick buttons, velcro, rings. When straight up or out) back in, but she is loose, she blocks my their efforts are in vain. My peripheral view. She doesn’t hair does not want to listen. match any of my colorful My hair and I have alt-shirts. She flies wild and free ways been opposites. She atevery time I open my mouth. tracts attention. She’s big I, on the other hand, like and loud and doesn’t listen. structure. I like having instrucWe often don’t get along. tions. But I’ve never been given She gets me caught up in instructions on my hair. There is social interactions I no manual. I’ve foldon’t relish, bringlowed tutoing in swarms rials onof strangers line for wanting to when or touch her or how to talk about brush proper her, but h a i r - c a re t h e y techniques. n e v e r She gets work. I’ve snarled on ended up the smallbrushing her est things: to the point of Photo by Ava Chun ’25
both of us suffering: hair in the drain and my wrist sprained. Over the years I’ve learned techniques of tying my hair back, protecting it from getting caught when I drive or wear sequins or play the cello. I’ve learned how to hold her in the shower to be able to brush her (brush in small segments—there’s less pushback). But even though we battle, my hair is protection. She keeps me warm; I never need a wool hat or scarf in the wintertime. She’s also a comfort in that she’s special. She makes me laugh when I look in the mirror after waking up and strands of hair are flying about my face, and I know there is nothing I can do about it. I know I always have a bit of pizzazz to every outfit. The truth is, she’s grown on me.
It’s not always bad to get off track: exploring individuality Sports Editor
I
come from a sports-oriented family. We bond over our love for sports as a shared passion. This could mean watching the Brooklyn Nets and the Pittsburgh Steelers at night or competing in our NCAA March Madness tournament brackets. My father played college basketball, and he encouraged my sisters and me to play sports at very young ages. We followed the traditional model with youth soccer, PAL basketball and high school team sports. Since both of my sisters excelled in this model, I naturally followed in their footsteps. While my heart was never 100% in these sports, it never occurred to me or my family to try something new. On a whim, I decided to
join the track team during the spring of sophomore year. I had very little expectations for myself going into it. Similarly, since no one in my family knew anything about track, there was zero pressure. The first day of evaluations, I remember feeling nervous. I didn’t know anyone on the team, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I thought about not going through with it, but I am so glad that I did. After a few days of evaluation, I was placed in the field events group. Initially, I was disappointed because I didn’t know what that meant, and I wanted to run. Once I realized what the field events were, I felt right at home. Track is unique. Although you compete individually, there is still a strong sense of camaraderie within the team.
In the case of track, your own success is directly correlated by the work you put in. Finally, I found a sport where my heart was fully in it. Track ended up changing the trajectory of my life. Instead of playing basketball my junior year, I joined the indoor track team, and I will now be competing at the collegiate level. This experience has taught me an invaluable lesson: the importance of trying something new. If I had not taken a chance my sophomore year, I would not be the person I am today. Track has t r ans for m e d me into a more confident and self-assured version of myself. It has
become a huge part of my life. My biggest takeaway from high school is that it is important to try new things when you are young and have endless opportunities. You should not put yourself into a box too early because you might not get to experience your best self.
Photo contributed by Gabi Gerig ’23
Gabi Gerig ‘23