SAS MEMORIES AND REFLECTIONS
PREFACE In honor of the Class of 2020, St. Andrew’s-Sewanee School shares this collection of poetry and prose written by SAS students. From poems about beloved memories to Chapel Talks and speeches about their time at SAS, students reflect on what our community means to them, what they have learned, and what they cherish most about our mountain home. Until we can be together in person, may these memories remind us that the bonds of our SAS community will always enfold us with love. God be with you till we meet again! MALIA CARLOS
COVER ART
“LINE DRAWING WITH CLOTHES” BY HUY NGUYEN ANH CAO.
SAS MEMORIES & REFLECTIONS i
TABLE OF CONTENTS Huy Cao ‘20
Line Drawing With Clothes Cover Image
Saje Mangru ‘20
In Defense of SAS
p. 1
Aidan Smith ‘20
Salutatory Address
p. 2
Adeline Smith ‘21
Unexpected Appreciation
P. 4
Sarah Beth Hobby ‘20
Chapel Talk
p. 5
Charlie Barron ‘22
End of the Year Reflection
p. 7
Grange Wengraf-Simons ‘20
Chapel Talk
p. 8
Annabett Bridgers ‘23
Untitled Braid
P. 9
Maddie Jones ‘22
I Miss My Home
p. 10
Michael Chen ‘20
Chapel Talk
p. 11
Iliana Pate ‘22
Untitled Rushes
P. 12
Lauren Ostrowski ‘21
Home
p. 13
Van Carlton Shanahan ‘20
Chapel Talk
p. 14
Nelly Ineza ‘21
Far Away from My Family
p. 16
Phoenix Yuan ‘22
When the Day Comes
p. 17
Gabriel Pongdee ‘20
Valedictory Address
p. 18
Vivian Mastilovic ‘23 Untitled
p. 20
Zoe Wallace ‘20
p. 21
“Until We Meet Again”
S A S M E M O R I E S & R E F L E C T I O N S ii
IN DEFENSE OF SAS
BY SAJE MANGRU, INSPIRED BY OLIVER DE LA PAZ’S “IN DEFENSE OF SMALL TOWNS” Now that it’s over, there’s no way that I could have hated it. Every year it began in August, the soil baked and dry, yet still teeming with potential. A landscape filled with teachers who were a little too overzealous at times and students who didn’t know how to keep a secret. Certain parts of the library smelled like body odor and residual vape smoke. And maybe it took too long to get lunch. But despite that and, perhaps because of it, the experience was beautiful and fulfilling. Days were long, and the sunsets always slid from purple to pink to gold. Portraits of trees were painted everywhere, swaying in the late autumn and early spring wind. You knew everyone’s name and could put a face to it as well. Walks in the rain were punctuated by the sopping clothing of perpetually underdressed students. Snowy days always had their token shorts wearers. The waters of the Res were murky but the most refreshing. The people were everything to me. We ate, worshipped, laughed, and cried together. They are my family. So maybe, after seven long years, we never got our grand farewell. I’ll still hold onto everything that made that goodbye worth it.
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SALUTATORY ADDRESS BY AIDAN SMITH
I would like to start by welcoming you all to St. Andrew’s-Sewanee School’s first, and hopefully last, virtual graduation. I hope you all are safe, healthy, and happy during these uncertain times. Before I begin, I would like to thank Mrs. Duncan, our senior class coordinator, who, in a sense, is graduating with us. For the past nine months, she has corralled and organized all fifty-one of us to blood drives, senior committees, and finally to this finish line. Although we cannot say it in person: we appreciate everything you have done for us. Nine months ago, when proclaiming ourselves “seniors” still felt foreign and misplaced, no one could have predicted our last quarter of high school would flash by on a computer screen. Yet, here we all are, in our own homes, watching ourselves graduate on our own TV’s. Even though we are not in our best uncomfortable clothes, sitting too close together, sweating under that classic white tent on our beautiful campus, we are not as separate as we may feel. Now, I will not go on to repeat the same, optimistic mistake that this generation of high school and college seniors have heard so many times already. We have suffered a painful loss. Right now, it is hard to care about the possible upsides of this that may, or may not, develop within our character. We don’t even really care that we are going to be a history lesson in forty years, either. What we do care about are our final days at a place we loved so dearly, surrounded by people we cared for in unquantifiable ways. We care about all of the lasts that we never got to experience: dancing late into the night at senior prom; crying together at our final SAS retreat; hugging your teammates after your last game as a SAS athlete; or playing dragon tails with the whole school on Earth Day. We care about sitting under the warm McCrory lights for our Senior Mugging and that last, sentimental creative expressions. And, oh man, did we all desperately care about forcing ourselves to avoid the teary gazes of our mothers as we walked down that grassy slope to the somber melody of those bagpipes.
Despite our deep attachment to all of these traditions, our chapter at SAS is coming to a close without them. It is ok to mourn these things. In fact, we should mourn them; however, mourning and regret must be distinguished from one another. We cannot let loss define our final year at SAS, just as you would not let a few missing pages ruin your favorite book. Surely you can dream about what a perfect ending could have been, but isn’t it more productive to re-read the very real pages that so deeply enthralled you in the first place. Look to the late nights in the union, watching movies or loudly playing ping pong. Reminisce to running around the sundrenched quad, soaking up every moment before having to go study. Enjoy memories of the lunch line packed with 200 of your hungriest friends, or maybe the insurmountable exhaustion of a 1 AM, caffeine-induced writing frenzy. Think back to the final days with your friends: laughing uncontrollably in the hallway window seats when you really should be doing Spanish, or staying up well after lights out to talk when you definitely should be sleeping. These experiences are what make SAS unique. Moreover, they serve as the glue that binds the Class of 2020 together. Without them, we are simply a collection of strangers. With them, we become a fantastic mosaic of ideas, emotions, hopes, and dreams; all collectively working together to mold each one of us into a new and better person than who stepped foot onto campus that very first time. Our formative years at SAS, whether they add up to seven or just one, ensure that no matter where in the world we may end up, we are always connected. Remember: we are always connected. Paul Kalinithi, a neurosurgeon and writer, was diagnosed with terminal cancer almost a decade into his profession curing people with the same disease. Through his struggle coming to terms with humanity’s place in the relentless march of time, he discovered that “Everyone succumbs to finitude... Most ambitions are either achieved or abandoned; either way, they belong to the past. The future, instead of the ladder toward the goals of life, flattens out into a perpetual present.” It seems fitting, albeit a bit grave, to say those words on the eve of such a landmark event in our lives. For the last seven years, I and many others,
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relentlessly pursued championships, grades, accolades, and letters of college acceptance. Many of these goals were achieved, and many were not. But in the midst of this race up the so-called “ladder of life,” we all discovered this seemingly simple concept: life happens in the present. To this, I say: act accordingly. Be spontaneous. Do something that scares you. Seek out people and relationships that allow you some time to live purely in the now, because that is where life really happens. Too often, a “good life” is whitewashed with a successful job, high income, and freedom to do as you choose. You are rewarded for all of these things with happiness. However, living a good life is not based on happiness, but rather on something far more controllable: meaning. Happiness is an output of life that ebbs and flows, and material concepts do not give life meaning, especially exposed in the harsh light of human finiteness; is it really surprising that the richest countries in the world report the highest rates of depression and hopelessness? Human meaning grows from purpose, and whether you are a scientist, politician, skilled laborer, parent, or maybe just as a friend, SAS taught me that your purpose is defined not by what you can take from the world, but by what you are able to give it. Right now, the world is taking a crash course on what it means to be human. We are being tested. Can we give up our individual desires, happiness, and even well being for a short while so that the least privileged, the most at risk, can survive the coming months? Across the globe, many people have sacrificed these things for the good of others. Still, for political, self-interested, or apathetic reasons, a great many people see this pandemic as another’s problem to deal with. These isolationist and exploitative mindsets must be left in the past; we are part of a global community, and we cannot afford to remain ignorant of our connectedness. In a couple of years, whether the devastation of the death toll is 400,000 or closer to a million, COVID-19 will be behind us, and we will come face to face with new challenges: ones that affect every human,
plant, and animal. It will be up to this generation of students to use the tools of intellect, creativity, and empathy that SAS has bestowed upon us to become compassionate citizens, solve the toughest problems and overcome the harshest divides, so that we may move the world forward, not just to the left or right. The only question is: what will we give? There is no doubt, the pursuit of giving is often a tough one, but the uphill battle is often the one worth fighting. When happiness and easy choices inevitably disappear, stay motivated, work hard, and stand firm in your convictions. I will leave you all with this: To all fifty-one seniors: thank you. Thank you for your truthfulness, your wit, your kindness, and empathy. Thank you for your love of each other and our school. To my closest friends: I will never forget all the aimless drives we took, streams we ran down, the late-night swims, or our extravagant cooking adventures. My body will never forget all the gas station donuts, either. To every family, but especially my mom, dad, and brother: Thank you for your love, support, and guidance. None of us would be here without you. Finally, to the faculty and staff of SAS: You make SAS everything that it is, and you have largely made us who we are. I am confident in saying that every single one of you impacted me in ways I cannot begin to explain. Academically and athletically, you taught to the highest standard, but more than that, you let us become close to you as people. In doing so, we discovered many things: Mr. Prehn listens to Chris Brown when he is alone; Mr. Short uses duct tape in some interesting ways when running; Mrs. Knoll can become your second mother; and Mr. Smith will take you out to eat literally whenever you ask. Most importantly though, you all showed us what it is to be unique, compassionate, engaged, and so much more. I cannot begin to express my gratitude for this, so on behalf of the Class of 2020, all I can say is: thank you.
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UNEXPECTED APPRECIATION BY ADELINE SMITH
Stop where you are and let the silence follow. You are in a world of stillness. Once a world of liveliness. Do you remember the movement And freedom you once had? Do you remember the longing We all had for it to stop? The 6:00 AM alarms, Holding your heavy eyelids open at 12:00 AM, Struggling to get through the night’s homework. The drama. The teasing. The teachers talking to students who don’t listen. The hunger that causes your head to pulse in class. Your sleepy eyes that desperately search cinder block walls for a clock. Only to find one that informs you you still have an hour left. Then to wake up and do it all over again. Didn’t you wish it would all Just stop? In the silence you stand in now, What do you remember? Do you remember the tunes that you would play in the car? Do you remember the beat, the rhythm that ran through your body and gave you a high? Do you remember the telepathic conversations you would have in Chapel? The moment your eyes met your friends for the first time of the day, do you remember the subtle excitement? How their zoned out expressions tickled your lips and caused a soft smile to spread across your face? Do you remember the bond groggy mumbling created between you and an unknown familiar face? Do you remember the silly notes you passed back and forth between your friends? How they were so absurd and futile, yet they gave you a feeling of risk and it was exhilarating. Do you remember the excitement that coursed through your body, resulting in a squeak and a leap, when your favorite teacher said “yes” when you asked them to take you to lunch? Do you remember the seniors crying when they sang, “God be with you till we meet again” For the very last time?
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CHAPEL TALK
BY SARAH BETH HOBBY Hello, my name is Sarah Beth Hobby. I am a senior, and I have been going to St. Andrew’sSewanee since I was in 6th grade. The reason I initially came to SAS was that my older sister, Aubrey came here; she was a senior when I was a sixth-grader. My sister started going here when she was in 7th grade and I was in kindergarten during my mom’s seminary process. For those of you who don’t know me well, my mom is a priest. So when Mother Short asked the seniors which of us wanted to do chapel talks, I did not even hesitate. That being said, at first I wasn’t really sure what exactly I wanted to say today. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to answer all the questions people have asked me over the years, or if I should just list off all the pieces of advice I wish I had known when I was younger. Or maybe even the advice people have given me as I have gotten older. In the end, I decided to just write and see where my thoughts took me. Whatever this is, I hope it is a somewhat good conglomeration of all three and that all of you can get something out of it. In the new testament lesson, there is a man, Naaman, who has leprosy and who goes to Samaria to see the prophet Elisha in order to be healed. The prophet promptly tells him that if he washes in the Jordan river 7 times he will be cured. Like many of us when we get an easy answer, the man with leprosy is astounded, fighting back and saying that it can’t be that easy. Why not the river closer to his hometown. Why 7 times. I relate a lot to that man. I often get so invested into projects, classes, and activities that I lose track of time and start to make things into bigger deals than they are. I start making to-do lists about all the things I have to do, when. In reality, if I would just sit down and do them it would get done a lot faster. It feels like, in a lot of situations, I find myself spending too much time on things that don’t matter nearly as much as I would like to make myself feel like they do. Whether this applies to you in a school sense, a friendship sense, a drama sense, or however else, I feel like it is common
to make things into a bigger deal than they are. Sometimes you don’t realize you have done this until that thing is over, but more often than not you can tell you have spent too much time on something by thinking about your time in ratios. Is the time spent on drama worth the time you lose having fun with your friends. Is the time you spent stressed and worrying, worth the time you could have spent actually doing something to alleviate that stress. Thinking like this helps me realize what is worth my time and when I am putting much more time into things than I should. Time, and how I can spend the time I have better, is something I have been thinking a lot about lately as my own time here is coming to an end. In middle school, I never used to think about time. Unconcerned with homework, I would frequently put off my work until later to hang out with my friends, something I feel like I don’t do enough anymore. I was walking my dog in South Pittsburg one day this summer when I realized the road I was taking was one I used to frequently ride my bike on with Anna Post. I looked over and I saw the hill she woke me up one very cold morning a few years ago to sled down. I still remember being in 6th grade learning about clouds and having Ms. Potter throw glitter in my face after I recited a poem. I remember sprinting to lunch out the back of her classroom with Evan and Isaac. I remember running around on the practice football field on the weekends in 8th-grade playing games with my friends. I remember sitting on benches in Sewanee and talking about life with Katie Finn. I have made so many connections and met so many amazing people in my time here and those connections have only continued to grow and develop. Though I have lost some of my old friends, I have gained so many new ones. That is my first piece of advice. Don’t be afraid of change. Yes, it can be scary to leave what is familiar behind, especially when it is people who you have so many memories and connections with. But the new connections you can make when you reach out can be just as strong, if not stronger. In sixth grade I felt like the arguments I had with my friends would ruin my life. Two years later, I was friends with completely different people and we were fighting about which lunch
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table we should sit at. Two years later I split off from a lot of the friends I had known for forever and I felt like I might never be on good terms with some of them again. Two years later and some of those friendships have come back: others haven’t. As you grow, you are bound to grow apart from some people and grow closer to others. Be open to that. I have changed and grown so much as a result of the people who have been in my life at different moments. I have laughed, I have cried, I have loved. And I still love every one of them, even the people I still don’t always get along with. Each relationship I have had has been worth my time, and, as I have come to realize, relationships are almost always worth your time. That latenight conversation about absolutely nothing while you stargaze in the cold is worth so much more than you can ever fully appreciate at the moment. Those small nothings become everything once you get older and they become all you really remember from when you were younger. Every second you can spend with each other, take it, because those moments are the ones you remember. And, above all, make sure that you are spending the time you have here with the people who let you feel the most like yourself. Find the people who love you at your worst and who celebrate for you when you are at your best. SAS is full of people who are waiting and eager to help you grow, so find the ones who speak to you in the ways you need them to.
When I was in middle school, all I wanted was to be in high school. Now that I’m here I have never wanted to go back so badly. The small kid inside of me misses when I didn’t care about homework and college, when I didn’t have to worry about my ACT score. When all I was worried about was what lunch table I would sit at and if they would have ice cream that day. But, I have also never wanted to move forward so badly either. The people I have connected with here, the soccer games, the bus rides, the arguments during class, everything here has shaped me into the person I am today. My second piece of advice is to let this place shape you. Take every opportunity you can that this place gives you. Go to Jamaica, China, or Yellowstone so you can see another place in the world, take Shakespeare to become a better writer, join the soccer team and form one of the most supportive families you will ever find. There are so many places where you can thrive if you take the opportunities given to you. Like the man with leprosy, we all make things hard for ourselves when they don’t have to be. Do the things that make you happy and take actions that will help you grow. Find the areas where you can thrive and make friends with the people who will push you to get there. The time you have here is so precious and so limited. So go ahead and dunk yourself into the metaphorical river and create your own fresh start here. The only thing stopping you is yourself.
When I was in 8th grade, my parents gave me the choice of whether I wanted to move to Knoxville to a large public school, or if I wanted to stay here. For a while, I was convinced that we were moving. We had a house and my dad had a job in Knoxville. I had my school picked out. I was convinced that this was the change I needed and that I wanted to start over. In a lot of ways, I had taken this place for granted. And as cheesy as it sounds I was sitting in the chapel during announcements one day looking around at all the people I knew and all the ones I didn’t know yet and in that moment I thought to myself that it would be a shame if I never got to go to another announcements again. I realized that I still had so much of myself to grow into here, and I knew that the me I would be if I left would not be the me I would be if I stayed. SAS MEMORIES & REFLECTIONS 6
END OF THE YEAR REFLECTION BY CHARLIE BARRON
I used to write a lot about not knowing what “home” meant, About missing something I never knew. I’d fill pages and pages with wistful hypotheticals of late nights and bonfires and inside jokes. But that was before I met all of you. I know my home now. I know my family. I met my family on the mountain top. I met my home in chapel walls and overpriced van runs and family-style dinners. I write about different things these days: Piney Point sunsets and team wins and union horror movie marathons. The truth is, Waves don’t miss the moon, Deserts don’t miss the rain, Flowers don’t miss the bee. Instead, they rejoice in the reunion. Both eternal and ephemeral; they are grateful for the memories. I met my family on the mountain top. I am grateful for our memories. And I cannot wait to rejoice in our reunion.
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CHAPEL TALK
BY GRANGE WENGRAF-SIMONS When I started writing this chapel talk, I had no grand plan, but as I wrote, this memory came to me: I am in seventh grade in the school gym with about 500 other people. It is our two-hour monthly mass, and the priest says, and I quote, “You should go out and solve world hunger,” and I almost said aloud, “How.” This is not what I want my chapel talk to be like, but what I did want to talk about is kindness, not kindness on a grand scale but on the small scale, and this train of thought led me to my mom. “It is important to have your tech people like you.” This is a saying my mom likes a lot. In fact, it is not so much a saying as a way of life to her. My mom will walk into the Mac repair shop, and the guy behind the counter will drop whatever he is doing to talk to her. These people will do anything for my mother from just showing her how they are fixing something to doing minor repairs for free. The people at the checkout line of our grocery market will greet her by name and apparently know I am coming home based on the amount of food she buys. What can I say, I like to eat. These people know my mom so well that they recommend concerts to her based on what music she likes. It is just crazy to me that she can get to know someone so well, in the time it takes to put her groceries in a bag. So, if you possess the crazy superpower like my mom to make friends in a minute and a half, I encourage you to do so; however, if you are like most of us and cannot do that, I would encourage you to try to be kind to everyone. You do not have to be great friends with everyone you meet, but be kind to them. Be kind to them. This is a four-word statement of incredible power. One could interpret this statement as helping the whole world, solving hunger and injustice so that they would feel that some kind person out there cares for them. You could also interpret this as holding the door for a fellow person as they enter Simmonds today. This task can be hard to do. I have to work at it every day. And I know that you all may be sitting there passing me off as a sentimental senior and
there is nothing I can do about that, but for those of you sitting there asking yourself how much holding a door can do, I have this example for you. It is work period, and you have some homework that you need to finish up. You are walking to Simmonds. You see someone running towards you. You could open the door and keep walking, past the person running, and get your homework done. Or you could wait a second, hold the door open so that they can run right through. What would you do? Now, what if I told you that they have a project due next class and they left a crucial piece across campus. Would this change your answer? What if that extra second they would gain from you holding the door would get them one more point on their project. Would that change your answer? Now what if that one extra point on their project would mean the difference between passing and failing for them. Would this change your answer? You never know what that, to you, small act of kindness will do to a person. Now here is another example that is a little higher stakes. Let’s say twenty maybe even forty years from now you are giving a PowerPoint presentation to your boss and suddenly that PowerPoint just stops working. There are a few awkward seconds of you fumbling with the remote, and then there are a few seconds more where you are messing with the computer, but nothing works. So you, embarrassed, slip out of the room, and as soon as the door closes, you are sprinting for the tech person’s office. You get there, and they are inside, but on the phone with the door locked. You, for the five months at your new job, have not been totally mean to this tech person, but you have said, in no uncertain terms, how fast and what quality you expect from them. You’re now forced to wait as this person finishes their call, unlocks the door, and then after listening to your hurried explanation, ambles to go fix your computer. Now, let’s go back about five months. If you were kinder to this tech person, maybe just saying hi or even once in a blue moon bringing them a cup of coffee, you might have gotten a far more hurried response to your face suddenly appearing in the window of their locked office door.
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These things — getting someone a cup of coffee, holding the door open, and saying hi — can be hard to remember but are relatively easy to do. My next suggestion to you is to extend this kindness to your enemies. I know that everyone has enemies, in fact, a favorite quote of mine is “If you don’t make a few good enemies in your life, you must live a boring life;” however, it is not the obtaining of enemies that worries me but how people treat them and the people around them on a daily basis. There is a line between hating a person and having that person as an enemy. I am defining hate, here, as a rage that consumes everything in your life and directly drives your actions. In contrast, I am defining an enemy as someone that you go out of your way to spite because of some past reasons that you believe is just. It is very easy to cross this line between having a person as an enemy and hating that person. The best way to walk this line is, in my opinion, to be kind to them in the little things. You might strive against them in all that you do but also strive to try to be kinder than them so that you do not step over that line and start hating this enemy. Another reason for doing this is not for yourself or your enemy but for the people caught middle. Think of the people you insult as a way to get at this enemy of yours. Think of the people you hang out with solely to spite your enemy. Think of the people that have to deal with you when you’re raging about this person. Think of the people that would have to live with you if you were to step over that line from just having an enemy to truly hating that person and what they stand for. Think of the people in the middle and be kind to them. Now think of the stories of childhood where the group of heroes, like the Guardians of the Galaxy, is able to defeat the villain through the power of friendship. Your friends, the people you are kind to on a daily basis, are the ones who are going to hold you up so that you can face your foe. If you’re not kind to other people, they are less likely to hold open that door for you and allow you to get that one crucial point on that project of yours.
goal, but in reality, not many of you in this room are going to go out and do it today. However, I hope you see that you can do little things that have a great impact and make someone feel that some kind person cares for them.
UNTITLED BRAID ANNABETT BRIDGERS
This project was to make a sculpture made out of clothing. I decided to make a snail out of ripped up of old shirts. I braided the shirts together then twisted it into the right shape. I then took a piece of wire from an old shoe and made the eyes. My thought process was a snail is relevant because everyone is living in quarantine and time seems to be moving really slowly. Snails are known for their speed for I thought was a good comparison. The title “A Gradual Pace” shows how time is going on and on seeming long. I could’ve done better with the construction of tying the braids all together.
Be kind to them. This is what that priest meant when he said: “You should go out and solve world hunger.” Solving world hunger is an admirable SAS MEMORIES & REFLECTIONS 9
I MISS MY HOME BY MADDIE JONES I miss my home, My friends—or really my family. I miss early Sewanee mornings, The cold ones and the warm ones. I miss breakfast, lunch, and dinner with everyone. I miss the laughter and the smiles, The warm hugs and atmosphere. I miss the quiet sunny Sundays, And the overwhelming Mondays. I miss my dorm room, I miss my entire dorm. I miss everything. I’m going to miss the spring. The flowers blooming, The warm sun, The feeling of comfort because Winter has finally come to an end. I’m going to miss all the friends who I won’t be able to see. I miss my home.
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CHAPEL TALK BY MICHAEL CHEN
Good morning. I am standing in front of you today, and I am standing in the last semester of my senior year. More importantly, I am standing in front of you as a newly minted adult! As a brand new member of the adult world, I feel that a large portion of me has remained in the past, so reflecting on lessons that I have learned from the journey that I have taken so far seems quite appropriate for this occasion. Besides, it is always fun to take a trip down memory lane. Looking back at my life, I remember chewing on my toe voraciously in a baby carriage, looking at a book upside down and I thought those characters in the story were all falling down from the sky, throwing a tomato in my kindergarten teacher’s face because she would not let me see my mom; falling in love with a girl because she let me smell her eraser. Those were wonderful memories that filled my childhood. Then middle school years came--to my parents’ dismay, I became a reckless teenager! For instance, I decided to write a letter to criticize a military training officer because he punished my friends during the military training; then, leading my classmates to the top of a 47-story building with no guard rails; almost getting hit by a car; and then a year later in 2016, I flew to Sewanee to escape China’s brutal high school entry exams… Here I am, 3 years later, about to graduate from high school. Still I am doing similarly unwise things now and then. However, I prefer to keep them a secret so that I will not get into trouble or expelled. My high school experiences have been transformative both literally and figuratively—I immersed myself in the American culture and did a lot of activities with my American peers, and most importantly, I came of age here in Sewanee and am about to embark on another important journey of my life: To learn how to be a responsible citizen while maximizing my joy. Since I have already been an adult for about three months, I feel that I have already become
jaded, and in my opinion, life is very predictable: it seems that neither bad decisions nor good achievements drastically change who we are. Walking on the usual path will not make us extraordinary. I attribute living in the Sewanee Bubble to have contributed to my belief that life is predictable. In a cozy town filled with love and comfort, we hardly see competitions or hate. Predictable routines and complete financial support from our parents cause our worries about the future to fade. We are the luckiest teenagers in the world compared to those in developing countries and even some in developed countries like the United States. Considering how lucky we all are, maybe we should all go buy some lottery tickets. Outside of the Sewanee Bubble, life is different. For instance, in New York City, some high school students take extra classes until 10 p.m. In Phnom Penh, kids wake up at six to attend free foreign language lessons before a day of work on their parent’s farm. In Ulaanbaatar, 14-year-old students are studying calculus in the summer, which astonishes me. In Shenzhen, most of my high school friends are calling 5 hours of sleep a luxury when they are preparing for college entry exams. I think one aspect that separates them from us is the worries. Due to financial hardships, unequal opportunities, pressure of future expectations, or low social status, they must compete fiercely in order to survive and to achieve what we already have: prosperity, stability, and opportunities. In the absence of hardships that people outside the bubble have, most of us seem to have become too comfortable with our reality. However, I would caution us with a very old Chinese saying which basically means we are more likely to thrive and succeed if we are under pressure and are challenged; and we are likely to be “intellectually lost” if we simply enjoy a life of ease and comfort. In order words, a meaningful life needs to be lived with a purpose. I believe that the process of pursuing a meaningful life can lead us to achieve mental and physical successes. Thinking about my experience at SAS, I
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feel that it can be a platform--where we can either overcome challenges and enrich our lives or treat it as a resort where we are free from competitions outside to enjoy a young retirement. It is up to us to make the choice. For me, it was not until the second semester of my junior year that I discovered that SAS was a challenging platform instead of a vacation paradise because of its beauty and hospitality. On this platform, we have plenty of resources and choices compared to others. We take things for granted due to the stability of our life, and predictability erodes our goals and ambitions. However, life is more than what is presented in front of our eyes; how high we climb on this platform determines our horizon and leads us to fulfill our dreams. With this, I have four humble suggestions: 1. Be responsible for what we have: for example, don’t waste all your money on sneakers. 2. To see beyond today: read more books today so that you may be able to show off your knowledge to your friends tomorrow. 3. Be responsible for our worries: take action to chase the girls or boys you like before they graduate. 4. Work hard, but don’t work too hard. Thank you for your attention. Peace.
UNTITLED RUSHES ILIANA PATE
Although I chose the nature option for this project I was also inspired by the pieces of cardboard art. And in the end, I combined the two ideas and created this woven/braided spiral out of rushes. What I loved was seeing how it changed not only over time but also with the weather. The day I made it was very windy, so I hung my piece and watched it blow in the wind. This made it pretty hard to photograph but it added an element of movement making it seem almost alive. The second day it rained, and the raindrops clinging to the rushes became a part of the piece. The third day the sun was shining very brightly. This was probably my favorite day because I got to play with the shadow. Sadly, however, the sun-dried the rushes and by the fourth day the spiral was droopy and starting to fall apart, but I guess that was the point of the project. I love doing simple tasks that engage your full attention, it’s relaxing.
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HOME
BY LAUREN OSTROWSKI
Now there really is nothing to do. My house shrinks by the day, As well as my patience. I look outside, revealing deserted streets, Occasionally with the addition of a frowning person.
It used to be so different here. The coffee shop once packed with people is now naked. Its vibrant colors no longer reflect what it used to. It has begun to fade like everything else. The heat of the sun is diminished by a harsh breeze, And the sky overcrowds with clouds.
The sun used to melt popsicles right off the stick, Staining my hands with sticky, red juice. My friends’ dogs used to jump in lakes And spray us with the dirty water.
The classrooms with the bright green walls seem so distant. I can no longer scramble to finish my homework in the library, Or work out with my friends after school. I miss what life used to be.
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CHAPEL TALK
BY VAN CARLTON SHANAHAN Before I came to St Andrew’s-Sewanee School, I struggled with finding who I am. Even before I came here I struggled. Allow me to start at the very beginning of freshman year…a very good place to start. I can recall walking into my first class, Conceptual Physics, which was on Tuesday, August 23, 2016. I was a bit nervous, but I was more excited to try something new. I was ready to start a new chapter, ready to find where I belong because I knew it wasn’t in Mississippi. Fast forward a month, and more struggles came running. On October 11, 2016, I lost a friend of mine due to an automobile accident. She was an influence for me to change my ways to be a person willing to help others with their internal conflicts. When I got the news from my brother that my friend had died, I fell apart. I remember a few people expressing worry, and I remember my dorm did what they could to comfort me. At this time I didn’t recognize a community, but later I would in junior year. That night I lost touch with Christianity, I resented God, and I declared myself an atheist. You guys remember that long coat I had? That was to isolate me from this community, to not be a burden as I saw myself. I fell into a depression, and my journey of feeling alone began. I did more harm than good that year, and so for my sophomore year, I found that it was my requirement to reconnect and to help the people I inadvertently hurt. In my sophomore year, I found myself compelled to do as I promised to do the year before. But in order for me to do that, I needed to have my thoughts clear and my focus on the errors I had made. This was my plan, to bottle things up and put the grieving on hold so that I may repair friendships, stay up with my grades, and make sure I was present to the community. Needless to say, bottling up was not the best idea. Picture a clear crystal ball containing mechanics and gears. That’s your conscience. Now imagine the crystal ball falling, hitting the floor, shattering into pieces, and the gears with the mechanics
roll away. After this occurred, I was unable to get thoughts through, I slipped with grades, and once again I became isolated. Then that long black coat found its way upon my torso once more. Near the end of the year, I began to become confident once again and I nearly had all the shattered pieces together. During the summer, I worked diligently on repairing myself, along with going through therapy in order to see where I truly stand. I learned how to be a bit open during my break, and I learned how to branch out to new people as I lost that ability in the year before. All this was made possible after I erased objects like my friend’s obituary and my golden journal which held me back from flourishing as who you see today. Junior year was different. I came back better than ever. I made quite a lot of friends, but later I would separate from the group because it wasn’t the group for me. This showed me that I finally was able to see what was best for me. I would come to find two very good friends of mine who inspired me to be more open to this community. They showed me it’s okay to have fun, to be me. If it wasn’t for the two, I would have never danced on a stage to Shakira in prom. I wouldn’t consider being the beloved Franz saying, “Dinner is served,” in The Sound of Music, and I definitely wouldn’t be able to see that I belong here. Without my friends, I wouldn’t stand here now. Those two people helped me find myself. I remember at the end of junior year, I went through the memories of being here, saying, “Next year I leave my home. A place where I struggled but a place where I definitely thrived.” I won’t lie to you guys; I cried a lot that day in the chapel, which was odd for an atheist to find themself. I later realized through my close friends that there was a community here who would be there when I needed one at times when I felt alone or when I felt misplaced. These friends of mine would also have my back if I ever slipped up or started to decline from this new me. If I hadn’t come across these two wonderful people, I doubt that I would recognize what I know now until years later. During the summer, I found old reports written by my teachers. I remember
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reading many of them, and many of them read, “We are here for you. Let us help you. We know you are struggling with something that’s taking your focus away from your classwork, your friends, and your community. We want you to thrive here, to be here, because you do belong here.” After reading that from the past reports of sophomore year, I took the long black coat and tossed it into the flames of a bonfire. At that point, I knew I wasn’t going to use it. I had no need for it. Out of all the years I have had on this campus, I found senior year to be the most difficult but good for my growth. I found challenges everywhere which felt a lot like tests. I found myself asking chaplains and other faculty millions of questions and advice on how I should solve certain problems, and I apologize for all of that. I finally came to terms with who I am this year. I learned that I do identify with the Episcopalian church in which I finally feel like I am me. Along with challenges, I found success in moving forward and for once living in the present rather than the past and future. I found it necessary to make this year worth my while, and in doing so, I wanted to branch out. I found that the middle schoolers are a wonderful group of students whose energy rejuvenated my spirit in the school days. Hearing them laughing, talking about their day, and asking questions like what house are you in? Everyone, it is turkgorgabell Now you know!
Back to the talk.
Things like that I found to be wonderful. In doing so, I also thought this is what a community is; we need one community, not two. High schoolers and middle schoolers are both students on this campus. Some middle-schoolers may struggle just as the upper school students, in fact, I know that some do. I find it is important for me and for this campus to at least agree on one thing, it takes a village to raise a child as it takes unity to make a community thrive.
of a community. If there is someone who feels that they don’t belong, make sure they do. What is a community if someone is alone, or doesn’t belong? It cannot be done. As stated in Corinthians 12:15-20, Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? But in fact, God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as God wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.
The point behind it is that we humans are essentially the body of God or the body of a community, no matter how different they are. When all are present, we are one body, one community. To be honest, it took too long for me to learn this. It is better now that I have. A community is essential for all students regardless of which grade one is in; each student matters; each student is unique; each student is an important part of the body — the community. Bring that forth in this community, and be who you are. So be the ear and the other an eye. One be the right leg, the other the left. Conjoin and form the body, so we thrive as one community, as a group. In all honesty, you may feel that you may not belong, but I believe we are all here for a reason. I find that my reason for being here is to be involved with the community and to help others feel that they are in this community, too. You may not find your reason, but I believe this is just the beginning. Also remember please…if there is one thing you take from this, remember to bring all cups, plates, and utensils to the Dining Hall. Thank you all for your time!
In my eyes, we should reach out, and check up on each other, we are all people in this chapel, we struggle, but we all thrive together. If someone struggles with feeling alone, befriend them; no one deserves to feel alone or left out S A S M E M O R I E S & R E F L E C T I O N S 15
FAR AWAY FROM MY FAMILY BY NELLY INEZA
I am excited and nervous at the same time. I have to leave, it’s time to say goodbye. I hope to see them soon. Strangers walked past me Asking how I was doing, I would say I was fine. But the pain was real, I had to put a fake face on Pretending to not miss them so much. A few weeks went by but I still felt the space Within my heart that’s empty, Since they are far away from me. When I went to sleep, I listened to sad songs, That made my pillow soaked with Tears of me blaming myself for what I didn’t do right. At least I know that those sad songs Related to me. One day I looked outside the window, I saw a letter in the clouds, Telling me not to hide, I had to come out and play. I started smiling and talking, I asked for help, Now the strangers are my friends. We sometimes have play fights, The late nights when we laugh so hard, And every day brings more blessings. The mountains are dark but friendly, I named all the trees, It feels like my second home.
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WHEN THE DAY COMES BY PHOENIX YUAN
I know you feel sad and I’m deeply sorry About your tears you said in your story 3 months apart could feel like eternity While your wait is long, mine is longer And when I said longer, I mean forever So compared to forever, your wait is only summer And when the day comes and you happily unite April will have felt like yesterday For times flows faster when we have hope
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VALEDICTORY ADDRESS BY GABRIEL PONGDEE
Hello, everyone. Saint Andrew’s-Sewanee School students, parents, family members, faculty and staff, thank you for coming out today. Or should I say, staying in. But more importantly, thank you for doing everything you have to make this community the loving and powerful thing it is today. For helping to guide those around you through their journey here, showing them what kindness is, and equipping them for the next stage of their lives, thank you. I have to admit that this is an intimidating prospect, being up in front of hundreds of people and being asked to talk for ten minutes. Though, I’m glad I’m not going into this blind. I’ve watched quite a few people do this over the years. Standing up in front of an outgoing class and preparing to offer some wise parting words. And they’d say something sweet. They’d talk about how lucky they are to know each of those students. They’d talk about the beauty of the bonds between the people in the room. They’d talk about how they hoped the values that define that community would leave a lasting impression on everyone’s lives as they ventured out on their own paths. And they’d talk about, one way or another, how each of those alumni-to-be sitting in front of them had been given a certain set of perceptions and axioms about the world around them, each unique but beautiful in its own right; that they had learned a great deal of what to think because they had been taught, through the intricate and flexible design of a liberal arts education, how to think. Now, someone could sit in front of you today and give a speech like that, and I believe that everything that came out of their mouth would be 100 percent correct. SAS more than warrants those kinds of words. With its sometimes-a-bitoverwhelming-but-overall-balanced coursework, but also the quasi-families formed by the students that populate its classrooms, this place has given many people a better academic experience than they probably ever expected. But while that description of the education received at SAS is true, I think that it still misses
something that this school can give, and has given to me. Something which takes a bit more than sixteen quarters of high school classes, and your average dose of interpersonal connectedness, to learn, but which can be taught here nonetheless. I believe that the most significant, most important thing that Saint Andrew’s-Sewanee School students can learn is not what to think, or how to think, but why to think. Some of you might be wondering why I am discussing a question with such an obvious answer. Of course we need to think. Allow me to explain with a quick story. Like many other people, I’ve grown and changed rather significantly over my time here. But from sixth grade through junior year, each new iteration of myself struggled with the same question. What am I doing here? Now, I don’t mean that in an existential, philosophical way, though they didn’t have an answer for that question, either… No, what I mean is that, for six out of my seven years on the SAS campus, I had absolutely no idea what the point of going to school was. I knew that school would allow me to get a job, like a doctor, lawyer, engineer, a chemist, maybe; this place was giving me what I needed to do whatever I wanted. But for all the paths available to me, I couldn’t see anything at their ends which made me particularly excited to walk down them. I knew that problems existed out in the world. I knew that bad things happened, and they bothered me, but I have to admit that for a long time I didn’t think about them much past recognizing that they did, and subsequently wishing they hadn’t. I had the potential to make some impact on them when I grew up, and intended to do so, but that was as far as I was able to see as far as career planning goes. I think “aimless” is an accurate descriptor of that situation. Towards the end of my junior year, though, I finally came to appreciate something that I never fully understood before. Often, I would be walking through the hallway, or hanging out in the library with my friends, and someone would come across a piece of information that unsettled them. Maybe some senator had made a statement they disagreed with, or a government was taking way too long to enact some policy. Maybe it turned out wing day was actually next week. Whatever
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had happened, the people around me reacted to it in a way that I could not only see but feel. They showed or spoke annoyance, but deeper than that was a sense of profound irritation and in some cases, anger. This had happened before, but now that people were nearing their senior year and catching glimpses of life beyond Sewanee, such occurrences became more commonplace. And, as all class trends do, its rising frequency forced me to look at it more closely, to try and understand why it was happening.
lives to reach it. But you will walk forward nonetheless. And, knowing how to think, you will be able to analyze, and calculate, and work through every fork in the road that life throws at you. You’ll finish whatever degree of education you want with no second thoughts. You’ll wake up in the morning and get out of bed with the strength to handle whatever happens that day. You’ll get a job doing what you love, and you’ll love what you do because it brings you visibly closer to your destination.
In many ways, this was my introduction to the concept of being upset at reality. And upon mulling it over for the first time, I realized, and fully appreciated, the rarity of peace and places like this school. I looked at the problems I had seen before and recognized their persistence beyond the news articles. And as I researched into them, I felt my heart sink over and over again as I saw just how unfair and avoidable and pervasive so much suffering is. And how much less it would be with just a little bit more general kindness.
I have dreams. Wishes about how I want the world to be. Ideals about policies or attitudes in society I want to change. I have things I want above everything else. And I believe that everyone watching this video does, too. My dreams may not come true. In spite of the gifts I have received here, I may not reach my goal within the labyrinth. And unfortunately, I can’t give a guarantee that you will reach your goals, either. There’s a good chance that our lives won’t see our ambitions through to completion. I will not argue that this isn’t a slightly depressing prospect. But in the face I became deeply, viscerally unsatisfied with the of that uncertainty, I offer this: another beauty way the world is, but more importantly, I formed of purpose is that it’s an idea. It is not something an idea of what I would rather have the world be. which, like us, is on a finite timer. Our dreams That idea is the crux of what I wanted to convey will not disappear with us, nor will the progress to you today. Not its content, but its principle. we make towards them. It’s a common notion Because having that kind of idea is called having a that when someone dies, they continue to live in purpose. I believe it is the most valuable thing that those around them. I believe that the immaterial this academically, culturally, and spiritually rich characteristics of purpose and ideals are a big part community has given to me. I also believe that this of what is meant by that. The paths you begin to community has shown a purpose to you as well, or chart can be followed by those who come into at least put one within your grasp. And I urge you the maze after you. Your dreams will project their to embrace it. beacons for as long as someone can see them. Perhaps someone will reach your destination in Purpose is valuable because it is “why to think.” your stead. It is the reason to use the skills you’ve sharpened here. Once you have a purpose, you become Thank you for listening to me today. I’d like to critically aware that every step you take is a cap things off with a few closing remarks. First, step towards the future. A step further into the to those of you who make up the Saint Andrew’sconvoluted, dimly-lit, high-walled labyrinth of the Sewanee School Class of 2020. My classmates world beyond high school. And you realize that and friends who have guided me through my somewhere distant within that maze is the goal. journey here, who have shown me kindness, and Not the exit, per se, but a place so pleasant, so largely made me the person I am today, thank mentally or morally comfortable that you would you. You have allowed me to find my purpose, to be satisfied to disobey your hunger for adventure make headway on my path, and I have confidence and change and stay there. A place beyond so that you can achieve yours. Secondly, to those many twists and turns and dead ends, that you of you who might be feeling a bit confused or think there may not be enough time in a hundred S A S M E M O R I E S & R E F L E C T I O N S 19
discouraged by my talking about life paths when you don’t know what yours is yet, it will come. In fact, it’s likely already there, inside your head. In my experience, working from the end point backwards helps to find it. And finally, to those of you who are suppressing a chuckle because this seems like such an obvious thing to you, well, I’m glad for that. Because to me, that means that you’re already well on your way to making the world just that much better. Thank you.
UNTITLED
VIVIAN MASTILOVIC
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“UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN� BY ZOE WALLACE
It might be for a reason, Us not being together, At the very end of our adventure. We never got our time. 16 years together, From day care to senior year of high school. Twenty-twenty was supposed to be our year, Our last year to fit in all the unmade memories. A chosen family, Separated by circumstance. When distance is purely physical, And until we meet again, We are under the same sky.