Porter’s Songs Foster Lasting Connections

By Charlotte Kronholm ’25

Outside the Bubble Arts

During Welcome my first year at Porter’s, I was struck by the entirely insync chanting of my peers taking over Brooks Field. When looking back on my time here, I’ve seen how the traditions are essential to what it means to be a Porter’s student and a Porter’s Ancient.

As I’ve experienced traditions throughout my time here, I’ve especially noted how the songs we sing, and how we sing them together, shape our community – while we’re here as part of the learning community and after we move on.

I now often think about singing in the garden, about practicing songs, old or new, and about how the connection when carrying out a tune unites classes and students. I’ve loved flipping through the pages of my song book, searching for “Ashe Grove” as quickly as possible, and attempting to match the Perhilettes.

Especially as we hold hands and sing “Moonbeams,” I am reminded of the connecting power of music and songs. Because it’s not only the lyrics of connection within the Porter’s community that tie us to each other; it’s also the sound of our voices. Our voices together are clear, resounding, LOUD. We are ready to go out into the world; we are ready for the world to hear our voices. And all of your voices here at Porter’s will ring in my ears and sing in my heart long after graduation.

Helen Shearon ’25 (bottom left), celebrates the ring-turning ceremony with friends. Courtesy of Helen Shearon.

and Travel Section Editor

A Conversation with My Freshman Self

By Helen Shearon ’25 Guest Writer

If I could have a conversation with my freshman year self, I’m sure she’d ask a million questions about things that don’t even cross my mind anymore.

She’d nervously play with the hem of her shirt as she asked if I finally felt comfortable in the dining hall. I’d answer yes, it’s where so many special memories were formed. She’d ask if I finally felt comfortable with my clothes – not worried I was too dressed up or too informal. She’d be surprised to hear it only takes 15 minutes from waking up to walking out the door. She’d ask if I could finally find my way to Olin without a map. I’d laugh and say it’s really not as hard as she thinks.

And then she’d ask the one question that still does cross my mind. Did you make the right decision about where to go to high school?

I’d pause for a second, not because I’m unsure, but because I’d want to answer her right. I’d tell her yes. Not because of anything I learned in a classroom but because of the people I met. The people here are the ones who stayed up with me in the common room the night before a big exam, not to study, but just to talk and laugh until we forgot to be nervous. The ones who show up to my sports games and cheer louder than any ref’s whistle. The ones who call my favorite rom-com “predictable” and “boring” but still watch it with me after a hard day. The ones who cook when the dining hall serves something I don’t like. The ones who help me pick an outfit for spring traditions, even if it means we’ll both be running late.

I’d tell her here she’d meet the friends who feel more like family and the teachers who see potential even when she doesn’t. I’d tell her that I no longer measure my time here in trimesters or report cards but in late-night conversations, school traditions and inside jokes.