March Issue 2022

THE REVIEW

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

MARCH 10, 2022

VOLUME 73, ISSUE 3

I

n a letter to the Texas Department of Family and Protective Services on Feb. 22, Gov. Greg Abbott urged that gender-affirming healthcare for transgender children and teens be classified as child abuse. The two-term governor asked doctors, nurses and teachers to report any parents who allow their children access to puberty blockers or hormones.

The legality of Abbott’s directive has not been decided in court, so it is not yet legally binding. The DFPS, however, has already started investigating the parents of transgender minors who receive hormone therapy.

One woman who works for the DFPS was put on leave after it opened an investigation into the medical history of her own 16-year-old transgender daughter. The woman has filed suit, claiming that the investigation is illegitimate. On March 2, the Travis County District Court granted her family a temporary restraining order, which prevents the DFPS from investigating or prosecuting her family. This same court will debate whether the directive should be struck down or incorporated into Texas law on March 11.

All this legal maneuvering comes at a time when three-fourths of transgender teens in the U.S. experience symptoms of anxiety or depression, more than half struggle with suicidal ideation and a quarter will not survive their teenage years.

“Abbott is using children’s bodies and lives as political fodder,” said Bran, a non-binary student at SJS. This is not the first time the GOP-led Texas government has attacked transgender rights under Abbott’s leadership. In 2017, Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick introduced SB-6, known as the Bathroom Bill, which sought to prevent trans people from using public bathrooms that aligned with their gender identity. After it failed to pass, Abbott revived the bill in a special session, but it was again shot down by legislators.

Continued on Page 10

2401 CLAREMONT LANE

S S E C O R G P N I A M O C E B F O

By Annie Jones ILLUSTRATION & DESIGN | Alice Xu SJSREVIEW.COM

HOUSTON, TX 77019

WHERE’S THE BEEF? SHORTAGES DISRUPT SCHOOL, BUSINESSES

FACE THE MUSIC: MAVERICK MUSICIANS TAKE THE STAGE

COACH RECEIVES HIGHEST TRACK AND FIELD HONOR

Community grapples with

Students and alumni explore

Richie Mercado awarded for

supply chain crisis

their musical passions

five decades of service

NEWS

2

MAVERICKS

6

SPORTS 17

2

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

N NEWS ON THE BACK-BURNER

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

NEWS

WHERE'S THE BEEF? Supply-chain crisis disrupts school, businesses

Restaurateur Molly Voorhees has dealt with a lack of basic supplies, including beef, since Covid first hit. To keep her restaurants flipping burgers, Voorhees has turned to alternate suppliers.

PHOTO | Sarah Clark

By Ellison Albright & Aleena Gilani

W

hile many Americans could not find toilet paper and other essentials during the summer of 2020, restaurateur Molly Voorhees (’94) faced a different shortage: her hamburger chain, Becks Prime, was 24 hours away from running out of beef.

A shortage of truck drivers and other workers in the shipping industry, combined with employee quarantines at factories and mills, has caused delays in almost every economic sector for the past two years. Everyone has learned what it is like when necessary supplies are put on backorder.

Not only has Becks Prime had trouble procuring food and servingware, but Voorhees’s other establishments, The Chocolate Bar and Agnes Café & Provisions, suffered distribution issues and a 15% increase in the cost of goods.

“Prices have totally gone through the roof — it eats up all your margin,” Voorhees said. “You can’t raise prices fast enough to keep up.”

The additional costs of masks and Covid tests, as well as the switch from in-person dining to take-out services, have further strained Voorhees’s budget.

“Honestly, I didn’t think The Chocolate Bar would survive,” Voorhees said.

Voorhees relies on Sysco, an international supplier based in Houston, to provide the bulk of her inventory.

Despite her steady relationship with the company, labor shortages at Sysco have necessitated Voorhees’s employees to pick up restaurant supplies.

Despite these issues, Voorhees could not easily switch suppliers because her restaurants use eco-friendly salad bowls and straws; finding another distributor that carried these products proved challenging.

“We still struggle a bit to find basic paper bags,” Voorhees said.

After her daughter received her driver's license, French teacher and Review adviser Shelley Stein (’88), had her heart set on buying a hybrid Mini Countryman.

Due to the scarcity of hybrids, Stein realized she would have to settle for a gas-powered car. When she found a car she liked at a Dallas dealership, they refused to sell it to her, claiming they could not sell to anyone from out of town because inventory is low.

“Everybody's jealously guarding whatever cars they have on the lot,” Stein said.

Stein then ordered a similar car direct from Germany, which was expected to arrive in the spring, but in early February, she received a call from her dealership: her car’s production had been canceled due to a lack of parts.

“It’s really been an emotional rollercoaster,” Stein said.

Alan Mallett, Director of Food Services, noticed last year that the normally robust cafeteria inventory was running low.

It impacts the budget and the bottom line, but our options are limited at this point.

ALAN MALLETT

“It started when we were doing box lunches,” Mallett said. “It was obvious then, and it's only gotten worse.”

The Mav Café has also experienced shortages of paper goods, plasticware and some food items, including fruit.

Sysco is the primary supplier for St. John’s, so Mallett has turned to other suppliers for some products.

“We try to pivot a little bit if we can't get [an item] from one supplier,” Mallett said. “It may not be the same, but it's similar enough to where we make it work.”

Recently, the School has been forced to turn to big-box stores like Sam’s Club and Costco to purchase delayed products.

“I have 10 to 12 cases of color paper that have been back-ordered for probably six weeks now, and they have no estimate on when we're going to get it,” Leakey said. “So I go to places like Office Depot, but you have to pay more because they’re the big-box stores.”

The high costs of goods at commercial stores are the price the School must pay to ensure essential supplies are received on time.

“It impacts the budget and the bottom line, but our options are limited at this point,” Mallett said.

Assistant Librarian Erica DiBella has found that some recently published books have been difficult to acquire.

“I have definitely noticed that there are books that are brand new for the year, and yet are low in stock,” DiBella said. “And I'm thinking, ‘wow, this is a book that's rather new. How is it that there are only a few left?’”

DiBella usually attributes low stock of newer books to publishers initially only releasing a small number of copies for the first printing. If the book is in high demand, publishers will call for more to be manufactured and will release a larger quantity of copies in the months following.

“If there is a supply distribution problem, which is what's happening right now, then they don't have the books to get for that second printing,” DiBella said.

Yet DiBella finds that most students are blissfully unaware of the supply-chain issues facing the library.

“Students probably won't notice the impact of it because they will still see all of the fiction best-sellers,” DiBella said.

“And in our collection for research purposes, they're still

going to find a lot of books.”

International shipping delays have also prevented sports gear from arriving on-time.

Swimming and diving head coach Ron Raper did not realize how severe supply-chain issues were in October, when he ordered gear for his students. By the time his order arrived, the season was nearly over.

“Our team had to go to swim meets in their practice suits,” Raper said.

Raper bought gear for the swimming and diving team in October from BSN, the supplier St. John’s uses for sports equipment. Usually, the custom meet caps Raper ordered take around three to four weeks to be manufactured and shipped; this year, they took 10 weeks.

When it came to ordering team sweatshirts, the supplier was out of the school colors. Captain Maria Cheng said that the team had to buy sweatshirts through the Spirit Store, rather than placing a bulk order from their usual supplier with all their other gear. This change in plans resulted in the captains having to alter the design of the sweatshirts; the hoodies arrived just before the season ended.

Even non-personalized items took an abnormally long time to come in. The team’s meet suits arrived only a week before the boys’ team competed at SPC in mid-February.

According to Mallett, some of the earlier supply-chain issues are beginning to ease up.

“From what I hear in the industry and what my salespeople are telling me, products are starting to get freed up,” Mallett said. “Ships are moving and getting unloaded again, and truck drivers are delivering again. I'm sure it's going to get better — it’s just a matter of when.”

ILLUSTRATION & DESIGN | Celine Huang

NEWS

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

3

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

H efty grant funds Italian robot arms for new engineering course

-

The new COMAU robotic arms help students with coding, manufacturing and assembly.

PHOTO | Sarah Clark

By Mia Hong & Jennifer Liu

F

ive years ago, the science department received a grant from the School and a monetary gift from an anonymous donor to invest in an engineering program. Posa worked over the next three years to create an engineering program that would feature a rigorous robotics class centered on the construction of robots, as well as the physics and programming behind their operation. Posa’s brainchild became an official course for the first time in Fall 2021, with prerequisites of Engineering I and II. The science department wanted to do something more appropriate for the higher-level students since “most robotics classes in the United States deal with prepackaged robot kits or competitions,” according to Posa.

During his research, Posa came across the COMAU robotic arms, which are industrial training robots used in factories, high schools and colleges across Europe. In 2018, he worked closely with company representatives to secure four robotic arms for the new robotics class.

COMAU requires teacher certification to operate the arms for classroom use. The other members of the team,

physics teacher Nolan Harris and engineering teacher Matt Bounds, took a Zoom course with Posa in November led by COMAU representatives in Italy.

“We learned how these robots worked and how to interact with them in many different ways to conform to students’ various levels of coding abilities,” Bounds said.

These activities primarily take place in the robotics class, which has a curriculum split by semester.

“In the first semester, we were focused on building competitive robots, which is more in line with what you see in a large section of American schools,” Bounds said. “As we're coming into the second semester, we're going to be looking more into manufacturing and assembly, as that's what COMAU's robots are generally used for.”

Thus far instruction has focused on the internal workings of the robots and how the controlling program interfaces with movement and motors. But these topics are only the tip of the iceberg.

“Later in the semester, we're going to look at the physics and programming behind how these robots would actually operate," Bounds said. “For example, inverse kinematic equations that help inform how the robot needs to move.”

The newly certified instructors downloaded the controlling program onto four tablets — one for each robotic arm. Students use these devices to control the robots by inputting a series of commands. One basic activity involves students writing a list of commands that enable the robot to move blocks around in a pattern. Once students have completed this task, the next challenge involves altering the commands to increase efficiency.

“After the students get properly introduced to the functionality of the robots, we get to the really fun stuff,” Posa said.

The same activity was also introduced to the Engineering I classes during the week of the Freshman Retreat. The engineering teachers split up each class into teams of four, all of whom raced to finish the pattern first.

“It was really fun,” said junior Engineering I student Brady Bock. “I especially enjoyed the problem-solving aspect of it, like when we had to determine the most

efficient order of the coding blocks.”

Although the robotic arms were originally purchased for the engineering program, Posa and Harris have started using them for AP Physics classes as well. “But that’s only the beginning,” Posa said.

Engineering teachers say that the COMAU robots are a first step towards a more robust robotics curriculum.

“In a lot of European countries, this type of stuff is introduced very early on, and there are different programs and technology and equipment,” Posa said. “Our new goal is to do the same thing — to begin teaching mathematics, science and engineering with robotics at an early age.”

On Feb. 28, Posa traveled with Lower School science teacher Shelley Chandra to a school associated with COMAU near Detroit, where the company instructs professionals on how to teach robotics to all ages.

After the students get properly introduced to the functionality of the robots, we get to the really fun stuff.

FRANCO POSA

The engineering teachers plan to introduce the robots into Lower and Middle School STEM classes using information learned during their trip.

This summer, Posa will travel to a robotics school in Italy to study its curriculum. He intends to integrate its projectbased learning into the engineering programs.

Posa and the engineering department are on a mission to make the engineering program the best it can be, and they are counting on the robotic arms to lend them a hand. As Posa said, “We’ve come this far, so why stop now?”

Turning a new (Senate) Page: Junior lands position in D.C.

By Serina Yan & Johnathon Li

L

ia Symer attended her first Women’s March in Columbus, Ohio, when she was just 11.

Five years later, as a junior, Symer has moved to Washington D.C. to become a U.S. Senate page for a semester.

Her responsibilities include assisting members of Congress by delivering legislative material, carrying bills and amendments to Senators and preparing the Senate chamber for sessions.

“I've always been interested in politics, and I wanted to expand my interest to a more national level,” Symer said. “It’s a really great opportunity for me to see the democratic process firsthand.”

Symer previously interned for state representative Ann Johnson (TX-134) by communicating with her constituents and seeking ways to honor outstanding members of the community. She also assisted in Johnson’s Houston office, executing a variety of tasks, including creating spreadsheets, researching statistics on gun violence, and identifying public events for Johnson to attend.

For students interested in politics, Symer said that “getting involved is so much easier than you think. It’s all about community.”

Symer heard about the Senate page position from a friend she met through High School Democrats of America, a national political organization for youth activists to get involved in Democratic politics.

With only 26 positions available, the application process to become a Senate page is highly competitive. Each applicant must be a rising junior, have at least a 3.0 GPA and be sponsored by a current U.S. Senator. Symer initially did not expect to earn the position, but she applied nonetheless for the sponsorship of John Cornyn (R-TX).

After completing her fall semester classes at St.

John’s, Symer continues to attend school in D.C. every morning from 6:15 to about an hour before the Senate convenes.

Symer’s desire to make an impact on those around her extends to her personal life.

Symer has volunteered for the international nonprofit Earth Uprising, which aims to spread awareness of the climate crisis. Last year, she helped promote a climate summit known as Youth Speaks, which featured influential climate activists Greta Thunberg and Bonnie Wright and presented concerns to the World Leaders Summit hosted by President Joe Biden in April 2021.

Symer mainly contributes to the organization’s social media and publicity efforts, and plans to continue working for them after she returns from D.C. “She takes really good care of people,” said junior Jane Meng, Symer’s close friend. “With all of her friends, no matter how close they are, she always checks in on them and puts them first.

She's truly selfless.”

Meng notes that Symer’s mindset is “ambitious and goal-oriented,” which manifests itself in her classes. AP English teacher Clay Guinn, who taught Symer in the fall, describes Symer as “bright and engaged.” Guinn’s class was studying rhetorical analysis during Symer’s application process, and he reviewed her application essays.

“I was really impressed with how Lia used the skills we learned in class and applied them directly in her Senate page application,” Guinn said.

Symer is interested in one day becoming a judge or working for a non-profit, but for now, she is keeping her options open.

“I’ll like wherever I end up as long as I am helping people and the community.”

Lia Symer (right) assists Senator Cory Booker (D-NJ) alongside a fellow Senate page.

COURTESY PHOTO | Lia Symer

4

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

MAVERICKS

Neuroscience teacher stitches art and science together

By Aleena Gilani

W

hen science teacher Paula Angus started an embroidery project over quarantine, she had no idea that her hobby would one day be featured on the cover of one of the most prominent neuroscience journals.

Angus, who teaches neuroscience in addition to anatomy and physiology, embroidered a colorful depiction of the brain connectome, titled “Staying Connected.”

The piece will be featured on the cover of the May 2022 issue of Biological Psychiatry, an international academic journal focused on psychiatric neuroscience and therapeutics.

Angus was familiar with the brain connectome, an imaging technique that displays the parts of the brain connected by myelinated pathways. The colorful nature of connectomes attracted Angus to the idea of embroidering one.

“It looks like a piece of art,” Angus said. “I like a challenge, and I thought it would be a beautiful piece if I could accomplish it.”

With an abundance of spare time on her hands during the 2020 lockdown, Angus discovered embroidery and spent hours working on her connectome piece in her garden.

“There was not a lot to do as far as going out,” Angus said.

“It gave me a lot of time to do some of the things I put aside when times were busier.”

After Angus finished the piece, she came across a neuroscience-related art competition through her British Neuroscience Society membership and decided to enter.

Though she did not win, all entries to the competition were posted online for public viewing. Months later, Angus received an email from the editor of Biological Psychiatry expressing the journal's interest in her artwork.

“I was like, okay, we'll pull this piece out again,” Angus said. “It was pretty exciting.”

Angus’s love of both textiles and science stem from her childhood. Her interest in thread art was sparked by sewing with her mother and grandmother, and the rural area she grew up in prompted her fascination with biology.

“A lot of people think of scientists as dull and regimented.

But science is very creative — you have to be able to think outside your normal parameters,” Angus said.

The botanic side of science particularly appeals to Angus.

She enjoys gardening in her backyard, which functions as a quiet and meditative space.

“Her garden is like her oasis. She's always outside looking

Paula Angus's brain connectome piece is featured on the cover of Biological Psychiatry's May issue.

COURTESY PHOTO | Paula Angus at little organisms,” science teacher Neha Mathur said.

Angus often combines art and science in her teaching. In her anatomy and physiology course, Angus had students practice suturing, a type of medical stitching, using T-shirts that she cut up and put on Ugly Dolls. In her neuroscience classes, Angus explains topics using colorful diagrams.

“It's a very image-based teaching style, which I appreciate,” senior Eden Anne Bauer said. “Neuroscience can get really complicated, so it helps to see how the structures are laid out.”

Mathur underscores that Angus’s unique teaching methods help her students better appreciate the subject.

“After her class, kids are hooked on Neuroscience — that is what the mark of a good teacher is,” Mathur said. “She's so passionate about her work, and she has the capacity to pass that love to her kids.”

Angus continues to embroider pieces inspired by science, such as thread art of an 1870s diagram of roots and one of native wildflowers.

“Embroidery is a very meditative process for me,” Angus said. “When my hands are busy, it calms my mind.”

Additional reporting by Annie Villa

MAVERICKS

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

Just keep breathing: Beard promotes meditation, music, mindfulness

5

M MAVERICKS

c

Brian Beard leads the Songwriting Club in an improv jam session, along with club founder Ryan Kao and leaders Bo Farnell and Lily Pesikoff.

PHOTO | Annie Villa

By Lily Feather

W

hen aggressive leaf blower noises interrupted my interview with English teacher Brian Beard, he was not bothered at all.

“In a traditional monastery, bells go off every hour or so to remind you to come back to the present moment and the breath,” Beard said. “This is totally a mindfulness bell — it’s an opportunity.”

Beard views life’s daily disruptions as a positive force that can jolt him out of his rhythm in order to become grounded.

Beard has been practicing meditation for 15 years and attending mindfulness retreats for the past decade, including ones that honor either Eastern or Western traditions, and even retreats that mandate complete silence. At the retreats that are not fully silent, some element of silence is always incorporated.

“They’re more of a 24/7 version of what I try to find in smaller doses in my everyday life,” Beard said.

Beard attended a retreat in Houston last December at the Villa de Matel Convent. The convent’s mission, as stated on their website, is to “invite people into the sacred world of silence to help themselves and others.”

In September, Beard attended an online, weekend retreat and conference at the Center for Action Contemplation founded by friar Richard Rohr. Inspired by the contemplative tradition within Christianity, Beard is leading his own group in Christian contemplation and mysticism this spring.

On retreats, Beard engages in sitting, eating and walking meditation, paired with deep relaxation meditation alongside other attendees.

“Because the brain can only focus on one thing at a time, mindfulness activities help us be intentional about bringing our attention to what is helpful,” Beard said.

Inspired by the energy he derived from meditating with others, Beard formed a faculty meditation group last year in which participants support each other and let go of the self.

Beard has extended that community by partnering with the St. John’s Meditation Club this year. Senior Rebecca Bollich started the club, which meets during da Vinci periods on Day 6 in Beard’s classroom.

“We find all of these ways to be together — to literally be and not just do,” Beard said. “It gives us the chance to really sink into the ‘being’ part of human being.”

Beard’s passion for meditation enriches his career as an educator. In 2019, he attended a retreat for educators at Plum Village Monastery where participants practiced mindfulness in order to take better care of themselves and their students. Every month, Beard meets online with a group from Wake Up Schools, part of Plum Village, which consists of educators from around the world who share meditation practices and songs.

According to Beard, the participating educators have similar concerns and desires to serve their students by finding spiritual nourishment, and they view the difficulties of their students from the shared human experience: anxiety, stress, pressure and “a feeling that they are not enough.”

“Meditation is a wonderful doorway into a deeper reality,” Beard said.

While meditation gives him a “nice vibe,” Beard does not just meditate for himself.

“It can be easy sometimes to forget why we’re here, what we’re really doing and how we’re really able to help,” he said “It's a spiritual exercise that prepares me for my encounters and interactions with those that I’m here to serve.”

For Beard, songwriting and meditation are fundamentally connected since both help people reconnect with their true nature.

“Songwriting, like meditation, is all about being in the present moment and being open to the truth of experience; it can be deeply healing for the singer or songwriter and their audience,” he said.

Beard has been writing songs since he was in high school and this year founded the Songwriting Club, which meets every Day 3, with senior Ryan Kao. “When you write creatively — the feeling, it really has the idea of the muse,” he said. “It’s like an out-of-body experience. Songwriting is a way to channel something outside myself. A lot of artists, including songwriters, talk about tuning into a frequency.”

Beard started the Songwriting Club so students and teachers with a love of music could bond. He borrowed multicolored stage lights from the Theater Department, placed different instruments throughout the room and set up a backdrop stand for students to perform.

Beard recently took an online course in music production fundamentals from Berklee College of Music so he could integrate technology into his music. He was accepted into Berklee’s Songwriting Master’s Online program, where he will receive a master’s degree in songwriting after three years of study.

He showcased his songwriting skills to a wider audience during his performance at chapel on February 17. Beard wrote the original composition, “Learn to Be,” about “what can happen when we go about their lives without reflection.” The song tells the story of two people who struggle to attain success but find themselves unsatisfied and unwell. In the end, the characters in the song “yearn to experience life with a sense of dignity and abundance.”

Beard’s songs come from the unconscious, so he did not sit down to plot “Learn to Be.” He relates to the theme of the song because he wants to find his way in the world without becoming consumed by success.

The song “starts off as social critique and realistic fiction, but it ends in a confession and a prayer,” Beard said.

As the home base of Songwriting Club and the Meditation Club, Beard has created a space that reflects his creative personality.

“It’s been an organic project over the last nine years,” Beard said about his classroom.

Musical instruments and other “found objects,” including guitars, drums and a tambourine, have taken refuge in his room. Beard keeps a ToneBank keyboard, brought to school

by Spanish teacher Stephen Kehs, on his desk.

“They all have personal meaning in some way,” Beard said.

Beyond the musical instruments, the room is populated by a gaggle of small leprechauns hanging about, including 20 that were gleefully strung up around the room by his advisory.

Also adorning the room are posters and mementos from Beard’s travels, including SJS trips to Peru, Bolivia and his own two-year stint with the Peace Corps in Benin.

Literary quotes from authors who have participated in the Inprint Reading Series decorate the east wall of his classroom. One quote from Frederick Buechner “reminds Beard why he became a teacher.”

Across from his podium, at the front of the room, it reads: “Vocation is the place where our deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.”

Advisees Sam Griggs and Talia Musher often engage in friendly sparring with plastic swords in Beard’s room, which were brought in as props for a unit on Romeo and Juliet. The leprechauns that pepper the walls were originally a Secret Santa gift from Griggs to Musher in a playful reference to Musher’s red hair.

PHOTO | Virginia Carolyn Crawford

6

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

MAVERICKS

FACE THE MUSIC:

Colin McCullough (right) and Joseph DePinho (left) perform at Senior Celebration with their band Triton.

By Cameron Ederle & Ella Piper Claffy

D

ecked out in body paint and a bright green Riddler costume, Michael Skaribas and Dair McFarland embraced their inner grunge on Halloween night. The pair have spent the past four years as the guitarist and bassist for Claremont Heir, but last summer they founded metal band Triton with Colin McCullough and Joseph DePinho. Now, their sound has transformed into an ode to bands like Green Day and Metallica.

“We always thought it was going to be super awkward to talk to Claremont Heir and be like, ‘Hey, we’re gonna do another thing,’” Skaribas said. “Eventually, being in a band that long, everyone’s music tastes develop and interests change.”

Claremont Heir members Lily Pesikoff and Bo Farnell formed another offshoot with bassist Evan Loftin, a senior at HSPVA: the pop-punk band backroom rumors (no capitalization, as their members insist).

“Neither of us knew Evan at all,” Farnell said. “We totally cold-called him after stalking his Instagram.”

On Feb. 27, backroom rumors performed their third official live show. They have played previously at White Oak Music Hall in the Heights and Evelyn’s Park in Bellaire. At the New Magnolia Brewery, they debuted a new song, “Ode to Dave Matthews,” written by Pesikoff.

“For those who are fans of Dave Matthews, that’s too bad, because this song sounds nothing like him,” Pesikoff told the

PHOTO | Lexi Guo crowd. The song has become a fast favorite among their fans, known as “roomies.”

“You could tell that we’ve practiced a lot for this,” Farnell said in a backstage interview. “We were tighter, and we worked to engage with the crowd a lot more.”

The members of backroom rumors held their first jam session in the back room of Pesikoff’s house. The proposed name seemed “on-brand,” according to Farnell, who appreciated the repetition of the “roo” sound.

McCullough found Triton’s name casually perusing Wikipedia during his summer internship. As soon as he came across a reference to Poseidon’s son, he knew the name Triton encapsulated the band’s zeal.

Triton has its roots in a YouTube channel that DePinho created with Skaribas. The platform, dubbed “SJS Metal,” allowed them to publicize their appreciation for metal, but the two had been “jamming” since ninth grade.

Before McCullough joined as lead vocalist, he was unfamiliar with metal music. He became hooked once he heard his first few songs.

McFarland admits that his bandmates are “way more into metal” than he is. As bassist, he “lays down the low end” for Triton. Despite not being a diehard fan, he enjoys the fast-paced instrumentals that are characteristic of most metal songs.

“I do love me some ‘Orion’ by Metallica,” McFarland said.

backroom rumors performs at New Magnolia Brewing Company.

COURTESY PHOTO | Lily Pesikoff

Last month, during the Senior Celebration assembly, the future collided with the past. First, Triton performed a jarring rendition of Smashing Pumpkins’ “Cherub Rock,” a stark contrast to the mainstream musical tastes of the audience.

After, Claremont Heir performed what might be their final live performance, covering the Beatles’ classic “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

The only member of Claremont Heir not presently in a new band is lead singer Lindsay Frankfort, but she didn’t stop performing, starring as Katherine Plumber in the Upper School musical, “Newsies.”

Claremont Heir, which Pesikoff described as a band once “bound together by a common passion,” is decidedly “going its separate ways.”

“We were never going to get famous and drop out of school,” Pesikoff said. “So the band definitely served its purpose for what it was.”

As the sun sets on Claremont Heir, Pesikoff leaves the door open for a reunion.

“It’s the end of this era,” Pesikoff said.

“But there are always multiple eras.”

The beat of their own drum Original composition at SJS ranges from Misfits-inspired metal to the Chopin-esque concert pieces of Chorale president and amateur composer Romit Kundagrami.

Starting as a classical musician specializing in piano and violin, Kundagrami made the leap from music enthusiast to composer in tenth grade.

“I’ve always loved music, but what I discovered is that I have a need to be surprised by music. I particularly enjoy feeling like I’m getting some new experience when listening,” Kundagrami said. “Being a composer and having that classical foundation, I’m constantly wanting to try new things.”

Kundagrami draws inspiration from unexpected sources, often beginning his compositions on a whim after inspiration strikes. One of his favorite works, “Le Sermon de Paneloux,” was influenced by the Albert Camus novel, “The Plague,” which he read in French class.

Ideas rarely come to Kundagrami fully formed. Instead, he will have a flash of a “climactic moment” or “closing passage” that he hopes to include.

“A lot of my original ideas are just gestural — I’ll sketch out things without actual pitches,” Kundagrami said. “Then, I’ll edit, make notes or comments, and just sort of fill in the pieces.”

For senior Ryan Kao, music has become a primary form of self-expression.

“I’m not very expressive with my words,” Kao said. “But when I listen to

music, I see landscapes, shapes, colors and other things in my head. It’s always been fascinating to me, and I want to share that with other people.”

McCullough’s interest in writing lyrics has evolved since joining Triton. The type of music his band members compose has an impact on his content.

“If we’re making a heavy metal song, I’m gonna write some scary lyrics,” McCullough said. “But if I’m writing kind of a groovy, Red Hot Chili Peppers-type song, then it’s more fun nonsense.”

Before joining a band, Pesikoff’s first love was poetry.

“I assumed everyone loved poetry,” Pesikoff said, but in third grade she realized she was the only person in her class who was excited about an upcoming poetry unit.

Last year, Pesikoff began focusing more on songwriting, which she has dabbled in since middle school.

“I felt like what I was writing didn’t really go with the Claremont Heir sound, which is more of a conventional, old-school rock and pop vibe,” she said.

Pesikoff credits her father for creating an environment where her love for poetry could evolve into a passion for song composition.

“My family wasn’t just listening to Channel 5 Classic Rock,” Pesikoff said. “It was always, ‘I found a new band, and I like it for this reason.’ And then we’d talk about it.”

Over the years, Pesikoff has honed her songwriting process. On her phone, she keeps track of lyrics she comes up with on the fly, another for chords, and a third for her completed songs.

Pesikoff places a lot of value on the organic process of writing songs: “A lot of the time, I pull 100 percent from what I’m feeling at the moment.”

She attributes her creativity to the lack of oversight surrounding her songwriting process.

“The deadline? There is none. It’s when I want to finish it,” Pesikoff said. “Having a process for yourself allows you to grow and learn at your own pace. It keeps it enjoyable.”

Students agree that the shared love of music mitigates the struggle of coming up with new material.

“Any brilliant composer learned basically by taking from others. In listening to any new piece that I like, I’ll try and figure out what they’re doing, what it is that I like about it and then I can take that element,” Kundagrami said. “The mixing of those ideas is where you get something new.”

MAVERICKS

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

7

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

Maverick musicians take the stage Playing it by ear In eighth grade, McFarland wanted to be a rock star.

“I used to be totally convinced that in my future I was going to be on a stage playing music in front of a huge crowd,” he said.

“And then, as time went on, I realized that’s not a likely thing.”

Though many Mavericks love music, only a few plan to pursue it as a career.

McCullough, despite his passion for music, cites “the statistics that an arts career doesn’t really work out for a ton of people” as a reason for giving serious consideration before pursuing music professionally.

Kundagrami does not anticipate his passion for music fading any time soon, but he is still considering whether or not to pursue it after graduating. This past summer, he flew to a music festival in Maine and got a firsthand look into the lives of professional musicians.

“Just to be immersed in that music for a month and to be with other people of all ages sharing music was so nice. It is such a unique perspective and experience within the music world to be a composer,” Kundagrami said. “But I go back and forth as to whether or not I’d like to pursue music professionally.”

As he weighs the pros and cons, Kundagrami finds himself increasingly interested in the possibility of being a conductor-composer. Many who compose concert pieces wind up conducting them as well because of the similar nature of the jobs. Whether or not this pans out, his “itch” to pursue music after college remains ever-present.

On the other hand, members of Triton feel that transforming music from a craft into a career would dilute its “de-stressing” effect.

“Right now, music is just something that we put a lot of effort into and that is rewarding for ourselves,” DePinho said.

“Having deadlines and expectations from others would just ruin it for us.”

Recently, however, McFarland has entertained the idea of pursuing a career on the business side of music as a more lucrative way to stay in the field. Among musicians at St. John’s, he is not alone in wanting to trade in a future performing for one spent behind the scenes of the music industry.

After a brief break from music during his sophomore year to focus on track, Kao “walked back” to music. This time, it blossomed from a hobby into a possible career path.

Kao plans to attend LMU for film and television in the Recording Arts school, a major that covers “everything audiowise” from pre- to post-production.

His lofty goal is to “blow up the music industry.”

While Kao has released a few singles to build up his portfolio, imitating the artists that he likes, he anticipates developing his personal sound in college in an effort to “find the feel for my music.”

After graduating from St. John’s, and later the Berklee College of Music in 2019, Quincy Cotton (’15) took an internship at the Rap-A-Lot Records, a local indie label that gained notoriety for releasing the Geto Boys albums in the 1980s. Today, some of their biggest artists include Bun B and Juvenile.

“I took up the internship because it was a place that had a history of putting out important music for the city,” Cotton said.

It didn’t take long for Cotton to outgrow the position.

“I was less of an intern and more of a studio musician,” he said.

Today, Cotton works with other labels around Houston as an independent record producer, songwriter and freelance artist. While he has always wanted a career in music, he originally doubted its practicality.

“At St. John’s, most people are focused on medicine and law,” Cotton said. “My curriculum reflected that.”

Cotton began dabbling in music production after attending an inspiring college seminar with Boy Wonder, one of the primary producers for Drake. Boy Wonder made music production seem so easy that it quickly became Cotton’s primary focus.

“Since I already had a musical background, it seemed like a no-brainer to make beats,” he said.

In just a few years, Cotton has learned some important lessons about the music industry.

“You have to be your own biggest fan,” Cotton said. “Because if you don’t believe in yourself, no one else will.”

Cotton also works in web development because he is realistic about the sustainability of a music career.

“You do the things you don’t want to do for a short amount of time so that you can do the things you want to do in the long term,” Cotton said.

Back in 2017, Evan Hammerman (’19) took his camera into the now-defunct In Bloom summer music festival with the help of a credentialed photographer from the Houston Press. Soon Hammerman was getting photo assignments of his own.

One year later, Hammerman knew he “had to find a way to do this for a living.”

Hammerman left Chapman University in Southern California after one semester to pursue his passion as a freelance music videographer and photographer.

Some of his notable assignments have entailed touring with and shooting a video for Ty Dolla $ign, and subsequent work with Wiz Khalifa and Lil Nas X. Hammerman posts some of his work on Instagram (@evanhammerman), which has almost 10,000 followers.

“You have to be certain that a

nontraditional career is something you want to do,” Hammerman said over Zoom, while taking a break in Oregon. “If you’re going the unorthodox route because you think it’s easier than school, it’s not.”

At the end of day, Hammerman values being his own boss much more than having a traditional job.

“You’re putting a lot at stake,” Hammerman said, “but the rewards are unmatched.”

Quincy Cotton (‘15) bangs out chords on his guitar.

COURTESY PHOTO | Quincy Cotton

STUDENTS’ FAVORITE GENRES 29.7%

21.6% 16.2%

16.2% 10.8% 5.40%

RAP

INDIE/ALT

POP

ROCK

COUNTRY

NO MUSIC ILLUSTRATION | Max Stith

8

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MAVERICKS

MARCH 10, 2022

From Kinkaid video to Hollywood: Alums make movies

By Amanda Brantley & Lauren Baker

A

ndrew Chennisi and Yusef Chabayta started their filmmaking careers with the Kinkaid Video.

Now they’ve worked with artists like Kanye West, Katy Perry and Miranda Cosgrove.

Chabayta and Chennisi (both ’13), have remained close friends and collaborators on music videos, films and commercials.

The pair met at St. John’s, and their first joint project

Yusef Chabayta prepares for a day on set.

COURTESY PHOTO | Yusef Chabayta

was the 2013 Kinkaid Video, which was helpful to their understanding of cinematography.

“Looking back on it, I cringe a little bit,” said Chabayta.

“We've come a long way since then.”

The two attended film school at Chapman University in Orange, California, where the innovative environment amplified their creativity.

“Everybody was looking to make things,” Chabayta said.

“So it was really easy to get started.”

By the time they graduated, the duo had built a robust portfolio thanks to projects with SoundCloud rappers. After they graduated, they worked on a project for RCA Records with Ryan Huffman, another Chapman alum.

“Once you break into the world of working for labels, you're in a more established zone,” Chennisi said.

Despite this early success, the pair still had to work hard to gain respect in the industry.

Chabayta drove for Lyft for a few months to make ends meet and called production companies in his free time to find projects until work became more consistent.

Months after graduating from college, they got a job producing Katy Perry’s “Electric” music video, which was a part of the Pokémon 25-year Anniversary album.

Chennisi said that the ability to learn and grow from experience is what allowed him to make it in the industry.

“The only way you're going to learn how to be better is by making mistakes,” Chennisi said.

At the start of their career, they did not envision working on music videos.

“We're not clout chasers, and we're not doing it for fame,” Chabayta said. “We are storytellers.”

Chabayta says one goal is to be a part of “globalization and helping connect different cultures and people who wouldn't understand each other otherwise.”

The pair’s dream came to fruition with the release of their first feature film, “North Hollywood.”

In an interview with Complex, Mikey Alfred, the director of “North Hollywood,” said they wanted “to tell a human story, and not let race get in the way.”

Chennisi and Chabayta were hands-on from preproduction to editing. They worked on the physical and creative sides of the production, as well as casting and financing.

The movie follows teenager Michael (Ryder McLaughlin) as he tries to become a pro skateboarder. His father (Vince Vaughn), however, doesn’t share his enthusiasm and gives

Andrew Chennisi addresses the crew.

COURTESY PHOTO | Yusef Chabayta him two options: go to college or work in construction.

Michael also has to navigate his relationship with his girlfriend (Miranda Cosgrove), who is headed to Stanford, and his friends, who don't take skateboarding as seriously as he does.

“North Hollywood” took off with a 93% audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

Chennisi and Chabayta are already working on new projects. Their next movie, which follows a teenager’s pursuit of an Olympic career, is slated for release in 2022.

They’re also developing several TV series, unscripted shows and feature films. You can find them on Instagram @yusefchab and @achennisi as well as on their website, www.broca.film.

Senior attends spiritual fellowship, finds purpose

By Richard Liang

A

lone at night in the middle of a forest in the Berkshire Mountains of Connecticut, Josh Siegel performed a Jewish meditation ritual known as Hitbodedut, which is based around self-seclusion.

“It was super intense,” Siegel said. “I was reminded of deaths from the past couple years, like my grandfather’s.”

This sort of practice became a frequent custom for Siegel over the five weeks he spent at the Bronfman Fellowship last summer.

In the spring of 2021, Siegel and 26 other students were selected from a nationwide pool of 177 applicants to partake in the Bronfman Fellowship, a year-long program focused on pluralism, social responsibility and Jewish texts. While Bronfman is a year-long obligation, the largest time commitment is during the summer.

Siegel’s sister, Sofia, wanted to attend Bronfman when she was a senior in high school but was unable to apply because it was only open to rising seniors.

Believing that the program offered a great opportunity for immersion in Jewish culture, she convinced Siegel, then an eighth grader, to consider it when the time came.

“She thought it would be a great opportunity for me,” Siegel said. “So it was always in the back of my head.”

During his junior year, Siegel was debating between a few summer programs.

Contemplating his sister’s message, Siegel researched the Bronfman Fellowship and was astonished by its academic rigor as well as its spiritual emphasis.

“What drew me in was that not only

would I be in an academically challenging environment, but I would also be in one where there was a lot of opportunity for spiritual fulfillment,” Siegel said. “There were no tests, so it was just learning for fun, and I love learning for fun. It was an obvious choice.”

Arriving at the program, Siegel found the varied backgrounds of those he met intriguing. One peer was collaborating with the governor of Illinois on Holocaust education curriculum, while another owned a tech startup with half a million dollars in seed funding.

“The fellowship brought together all of these super talented people,” Siegel said.

“And then there’s me, of course.”

During the fellowship, Siegel and his peers attended Shiurs, daily seminars led by Jewish intellectuals. Students were assigned historical and religious texts to examine and discuss, oftentimes resulting in fierce debates over varying interpretations. Outside of the classroom, Siegel and other fellows engaged in a variety of spiritual rituals, like outdoor nighttime solitary meditation.

The fellowship brought together all of these super talented people, and then there’s me.

JOSH SIEGEL

When asked about his fondest experience at Bronfman, Siegel struggled to find a specific moment.

“Every time someone asks me that, it's so difficult to pin down,” Siegel said. “There were these amazing faculty members, so

Josh Siegel (far left) engages with his cohort in Washington, D.C.

COURTESY PHOTO | Josh Siegel many discussions and debates that took place and friendships I created.”

Bronfman expects attendees to undertake an initiative that engages with Judaism in a meaningful way after the summer.

Siegel originally set about doing a research project on the history of Houston Jews.

“What I’m thinking about is what it meant to be a Jew in Houston when Jews were very segregated from things,” Siegel said.

“So why did this segregation change for Jewish people faster than other minorities?

That was my project.”

Siegel has since opted to release a Klezmer album, which is a genre of the Ashkenazi Jewish music of his Eastern European ancestors. His research project on the history of Houston Jews is now an independent study project.

“I’m learning how to play the soprano and tenor saxophone,” Siegel said. “Together, with a group of my St. John's and Bronfman

friends, we’re just going to play some Jewish music.”

This January, Siegel and members of his cohort attended a Bronfman reunion in Washington, D.C., where they listened to notable Jewish figures, such as Jeffrey Goldberg, the Editor-in-Chief of The Atlantic, recount life experiences.

“I also talked to three alumni who work in the Capitol, and one of the guys’ offices got raided,” Siegel said. “The Capitol raiders ate the cupcakes he had in his office.”

Returning to traditional school life last August, Siegel drew inspiration from his Bronfman experience and applied them to his the college application process and relationship building.

“Bronfman had a very meaningful impact on me,” Siegel said. “It's helped me grow personally, and I will always appreciate that.”

CULTURE

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

9

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

Newsies Stop the World

C CULTURE Katherine Plumber, played by Lindsay Frankfort, shows the newsies the front-page coverage their strike received.

PHOTO | Jack Faulk

By Ellison Albright

B

etween a larger cast and loosened Covid restrictions, this year’s upper school musical, “Newsies," looked a bit different from last year’s “Into The Woods." Gone are the clear masks prone to fogging. Filled are the seats left empty due to social distancing. Expanded is the cast, now featuring 52 enthusiastic players.

“I'm really excited for everybody to see it,” said junior Maggie Henneman, who plays Les, a precocious nine-year-old boy.

“It's been a wild ride. But I think in the end, it turned out really cool.”

“Newsies," under the direction of Jamie Stires-Hardin, chronicles the story of a group of New York City newspaper hawkers, known as newsies, who go on strike. It is a musical heavy in male roles — an unorthodox choice for a femaledominated theater program. In order to supplement these gender discrepancies, female actors were cast into male roles.

The scarcity of female roles led to some uncertainty during the audition process.

“When I auditioned, I had no idea what

role I would get because there are really only two female roles in the cast,” said Henneman. “That was freaky.”

Besides the nontraditional casting, viewers of this year’s musical noticed another obvious aspect of the performance: the lack of masks. Last year, it was widely agreed that while masks did not define the show, they made it harder to portray emotions and reactions.

“If you just see someone make an acting choice on their face, then you can make one too,” said Henneman. “It makes the show 10 times better.”

“Newsies" is flush with elaborate dance numbers, choreographed by Victoria Arizpe ('86), adding another complex layer to learn in an already packed schedule.

“Everyone has been putting in so much work, like hours after hours, night after night, just to get the dancing perfect,” said Henneman.

Alongside the stress of learning lines, music and dances, the actors still had the everyday stress of getting schoolwork in on time and studying for upcoming

assessments.

“The musical does really force you to be proactive. I mean, you can't procrastinate,” said Henneman. “When you have time, you should be doing homework.”

Cast members learned to skilfully transition from their academic lives to their on-stage personas.

“When we get on stage, we're all really focused because we all really care,” said senior Lindsay Frankfort, who plays Katherine Plumber, a reporter and the musical’s main love interest.

Offstage, the cast loves to joke around and sing along to the songs — even if they are not in the numbers.

“You've got the 20 kids on stage dancing, but then you've got the 40 kids in the wings, having a dance party while singing the songs,” said Henneman Tech week, the lead up to opening night, was an incredibly busy week for all who were involved in the production. Practice for the musical ran until 10 p.m. the entire week. On top of all of that, those involved still had to do their homework, turn in

projects and study for tests.

“It’s pretty crazy,” said sophomore Maggie Whelan, who works in tech and is head of stage right.

“I personally love it. I love the chaos.”

All of the hard work that is put into the musical culminates on opening night. As backstage floods with last minute details and vocal warmups, everyone has their own way of channeling the nervous energy.

“I sneak five minutes before the show starts, to the practice rooms. And I play this one song on piano and sing to it,” said senior Bobby Hlavinka, who plays Jack Kelly, the head newsboy. “That always really calms me down. No one's there anymore. Then I go straight from the practice room right on to my spot, and I go.”

Once the lights go down before the show, everything changes. The chaos backstage recedes, and all eyes are on the actors.

“It's a transcendent experience,” Hlavinka said.

Additional reporting by Emma Chang

Storied Cloisters ' architecture reflects its history

By Elizabeth Hu

T

here’s a very simple reason why the Quadrangle’s walls are covered in ivy.

“A big part of why St. John’s happened was that they wanted an Ivy League-style prep school,” said Dan Havel, Upper School visual arts and architecture teacher.

“There’s this symbology that we are truly an Ivy League school and you can tell they kept that up all the way through.”

Starting in 1946, renowned architect Hiram Salisbury built West Farish Hall, the South Cloister, East Farish Hall and the North Cloister. The square-shaped arrangement of buildings was completed in less than two years and surrounded an open plot of grass, now known as the Quadrangle.

The Quad’s design has its origins in Christian monasteries, where monks would live in the cloisters and congregate on the green space during prayers. Oxford University picked up on this construction concept, followed by early American universities like Harvard, Yale and, ultimately, St. John’s.

Knowing that the Quad was the exclusive domain of seniors, later architects decided to create the Great Lawn, a community space where everybody could go, regardless of grade level.

The architecture of St. John’s is shrouded in history, representing a connection to its founding values of

academic excellence.

According to Havel, a consistent theme of the School’s architecture is connection to the land upon which it was built.

“The idea that what a building is made of can give the history of where it’s at,” Havel said.

In order to stay true to this goal as the campus expanded, the architects took every detail into consideration — down to the shade of limestone.

While building Flores Hall, the architects wanted to find limestone that matched the other campus buildings. They went back to the limestone quarry in Austin to obtain the original stone, which had not been mined since the 1950s.

Architecture is more than just one room. It has symbology to it, it has function to it and it has history to it.

DAN HAVEL

“They wanted to give grace to the history of St. John’s by designing a building that looked exactly like the old building,” Havel said.

In 2015, Winston Hall, which housed the old cafeteria, was replaced by the Campus Center, designed by Curtis & Windham Architects. Again, they combined history and architecture by matching the molding along the walls, the ceiling from Winston Hall and the location of the fireplace.

The buildings were deliberately positioned so that the fireplace in Flores Hall was directly across from the fireplace in West Farish Hall, creating a connection between the newest and oldest buildings “lined up with this really strong historical axis,” Havel said.

The architects also wanted the interior of the Great Hall to match its traditional exterior. With its tiered chandeliers, high-domed windows and hanging wooden beams, Flores Hall is a Harry Potter-inspired eatery that possesses an essence of “pomp.”

“When I first saw Flores Hall, I was kind of reminded of Hogwarts,” freshman Katie Czelusta said, “especially when it’s cold outside and the fire is crackling at the end of the hall.”

Although the wooden beams serve no structural purpose, their aura contributes to the Great Hall’s overall grandeur.

“Flores Hall is very opulent, even over-the-top in some respects, but at the same time it feels like it’s been there forever,” Havel said. “It doesn't feel new.”

To many, St. John’s represents a place of high academic standards and excellence, an image that manifests itself within the walls of the school.

“Here's where it all began,” Havel said, gesturing at the fireplace and furniture in West Farish Hall. “Right here, we can see that architecture is more than just one room. It has symbology to it, it has function to it and it has history to it.”

PHOTO | Sarah Clark

10

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

SPOTL

a process o

students identify acro

*Some names have been changed to prote referred to using they and them, whether

By Annie Jones Additional reporting

by Lydia Gafford

H

ealthcare workers across the nation have decried Gov. Abbott’s most recent directive as a threat to the health and safety of transgender teens and children.

A peer-reviewed paper by The Trevor Project, a nonprofit focused on suicide prevention among LGBTQ+ teenagers, found that transgender teens with access to gender-affirming hormone therapy were less likely to have symptoms of depression or suicidal thoughts and were 62% less likely to have attempted suicide in the past year.

After Abbott’s letter was sent, the Texas Department of Health and Human Services removed the Trevor Project’s suicide prevention hotline from its website’s list of crisis lines. Now, it lists no crisis lines specifically for queer people. Queer teenagers who have found their mental health impacted by Abbott’s political maneuvering can no longer easily access professionals trained to help LGBTQ+ youth.

Surgical and hormonal gender-affirmation treatments are already difficult to obtain. Minors need both parental approval and a letter of support from a mental health professional before they can be prescribed gender-affirming hormones, which means that many of those seeking treatment must wait until they are financially independent adults in order to transition.

According to a 2017 Oxford University study, teens who received genderaffirming healthcare had to wait, on average, 4.5 years after discovering their gender identity. With such high rates of depression, self-harm and suicide, that wait time can mean the difference between life and death.

The ramifications of Abbott’s edict remain to be seen, but it has already negatively impacted the mental health of transgender people in Texas and beyond.

Just days after Abbott sent his letter to the DFPS, the Florida House of Representatives passed their own controversial bill, known as the “Don’t Say Gay or Trans Bill.” If the state senate passes it, teachers will be prohibited from speaking on LGBTQ+ issues.

Frankie, an Upper School student, is hopeful that in Texas, authorities will not prosecute those who provide treatment to trans kids since it is not yet a crime — but they have their doubts.

Abbott gave no information on if or when his broad interpretation of “child abuse” will be enacted, so Texans are left to speculate — and debate.

Bran considers Abbott’s move a “purely political” attempt to shore up his base in advance of a 2022 gubernatorial race against Democratic nominee Beto O’Rourke.

“I have no clue if [Abbott’s directive] will pass,” said Payton, an Upper School student. “I would say that a lot of this generation is having an existential crisis about the future, and that is certainly not helped by personal attacks from politicians.”

A PATH TO SELF-DISCOVERY Quinn, an Upper School student, began to wonder if they were transgender just a few years ago. Since then, they have experimented with different names and sets of pronouns, wondering all the while if they were “really trans.” Due to the cultural assumption that some transgender people, especially youths, fake their identities for attention, Quinn struggled to convince themself that they had the right to identify as trans.

“I don’t want to make a big deal about it,” Quinn said. “Just let me be here.”

Quinn observes that societal expectations of the trans community are often restrictive, with the “social media image of a nonbinary person” being a skinny, white, female-assigned individual with a penchant for hair dye.

Another common misconception is that trans people always know their gender when they are young. Those who break the mold can find their identities questioned by others. The reality is that people often discover that they are transgender later in life.

“I had a pretty gendered childhood, and I was fine with it at the time,” Quinn said.

After hearing numerous stories about trans people who knew their gender identity when they were children, they began to doubt whether or not they were trans because they did not have that experience.

Payton, who uses all pronouns (they are happy to be referred to as “he, she or they”), has noticed that their identity confuses people who remember them as a little girl who loved wearing dresses and playing with Barbies.

“A lot of people are like, ‘oh, you did this thing when you were a kid, so you must be this gender,’” they said. “But playing with a doll isn’t a gender.”

Payton’s parents, after all, were the ones who bought gendered clothes and toys: “I didn’t have any money when I was five,” they said.

Sophomore Shaheen Merchant knew that she was a girl at three years old, but she “lost confidence” in herself when dressed in a boy’s school uniform. She went through phases of acceptance and denial of her gender identity during middle school before coming out to her friends and family last summer.

“I decided that this isn’t going to go away,” Merchant said.

“So I’m going to do something about it.”

Few students have openly transitioned during their time at St. John’s.

Clothing is an important mode of self-expression for trans people, being one of the fastest and easiest ways to match gender identity to appearance. Em Trautner (’20), former Head Prefect, discovered that feminine clothing made them “feel alive” while battling debilitating anxiety and depression.

While self-isolating in their Brown University dorm room during the pandemic in early 2020, they freely experimented

You’re putting someone‘s life in the balance because of your grammar rules.

with dresses and makeup. By the time quarantine ended, Trautner had adopted they/them pronouns and the name Em. They discovered that trying new clothing and pronouns in a judgment-free environment helped them discover their identity more than thinking quietly about their gender ever could.

“It’s like solving a math problem by guessing and checking,” Trautner said. “I can’t think myself into an identity. It was a process of becoming and trying.”

WHAT’S IN A NAME? Name-changing is typically one of the first steps of transitioning. Most trans people pick a “chosen name” for themselves that aligns better with their gender identity than their birth name does. A 2021 survey by The Trevor Project found that trans people whose chosen names and pronouns are respected by their families are half as likely to attempt suicide.

Those who refuse to respect “something as simple as a name or clothing choice are potentially putting someone at risk of suicide,” Bran said. “People call their kids nicknames all the time. Just think about it like a nickname.”

Trans people who change their name are often met with resistance. Trautner notices that “the world has trained us to think, as trans people, that going outside the norm is an inconvenience or bother.”

Preferred pronouns are often disrespected, which is referred to as “misgendering.” Those who use they/them, like Trautner and Bran, find that some refuse to use the singular “they,” despite the fact that it was used as far back as the 14th century.

“You are putting someone’s life in the balance because of your grammar rules,” Bran said.

They also note that Merriam-Webster Dictionary and the Associated Press have decided that they/them can be used as a singular pronoun.

Trautner’s chosen name, Em, is lifted from the first letter of their birth name, commonly referred to as a “deadname.”

Besides being affirmingly gender-neutral, it also sounds like a nickname, which allows Trautner to use their chosen name without outing themself as non-binary.

“I like that I have more control over the degrees to which I’m out in various spaces,” Trautner said. “Sometimes I don’t feel like putting my life at risk at the gas station.”

Merchant also found comfort in the name Shaheen, which is a gender-neutral name in Muslim cultures that she found on a baby names website.

“At extended family gatherings, my mom can say, ‘hey, Shaheen, come here,’ and people think that’s my name,” Merchant said. “Regardless of how I present, Shaheen is safe, but also affirming.”

Shaheen was recently added as a nickname to Merchant’s profile on the SJS website.

Quinn still uses their deadname at home and on official documents, even though hearing or writing it can sometimes cause them gender dysphoria, the distress that a trans person experiences when their appearance or the way they

LIGHT

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

11

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

of becoming

oss the gender spectrum

ect sources’ privacy. Anonymous sources are or not these are their preferred pronouns.

are perceived does not align with their gender identity. In 2013, the diagnosis was added to the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Transitioning, whether it be with hormones, surgery or changing a name, alleviates this distress.

“It’s nice that forms these days have different options for preferred pronouns, but I just can’t use them,” Quinn said.

“When I click the button for my assigned pronouns, it feels like shoving myself further back in the closet. I type in my assigned name even if there’s a box for my preferred name — I just can’t do it.”

In Texas, a legal name change can cost anywhere from $150 to $300 and can take more than six months. Minors need a court order to change their name; if they do not have the time for a hearing and hundreds of dollars to spare, they have no avenue to legally do so.

THE COMPLEXITIES OF INTERSEX HEALTHCARE The same surgeries that Abbott considers child abuse on transgender kids — which are illegal for minors in Texas and rarely performed in the rest of the country — are fully legal and quite common for intersex kids. Intersex people have atypical sex chromosomes, which creates a combination of male and female sex characteristics.

Abbott’s letter also does not mention medically unnecessary cosmetic surgeries frequently performed on intersex kids, even though the majority of these “intersex surgeries” are performed on children less than two years old.

According to Planned Parenthood, doctors and parents typically “decide” what gender an intersex child should be raised when they are newborns. Most infants then have surgeries performed on their genitals and are prescribed estrogen or testosterone.

If Abbott’s interpretation of the law is enforced, the prescription of these hormones to transgender children would become illegal.

“Abbott is terrified that he’s going to lose the election,” Frankie said. “If he wanted to protect kids, he would be doing the opposite of what he’s doing now.”

Abbott has not yet mentioned whether intersex surgeries and hormone prescriptions will be debated when the matter goes to court.

“The shapeless blob is the vibe,” they said. “I can’t be dysphoric if I can’t look at myself. It’s definitely tough sometimes, especially if it’s hot out and I can’t wear a hoodie.”

While Payton’s identity “fluctuates,” they always wear the uniform skirts, even when they feel more masculine and do not want to be referred to with feminine pronouns. “I don’t understand gender norms very well,” they said. “It’s a lot easier to exaggerate masculine and feminine qualities when they’re being subverted. When you wear a suit, it’s traditionally masculine, but if you tuck your shirt in or wear it fitted a certain way, it reads as feminine.”

But dysphoria is not so easily managed.

“I know that my dysphoria is very deeply intertwined with my general body image issues,” Quinn said. “I’m not satisfied with my appearance 90 percent of the time. Some of that has to do with the parts of my body that have to do with my gender, but some of that doesn’t. It makes it easy to secondguess my dysphoria: Am I just upset about how my body looks in general, or is this a gender-specific thing?”

While dysphoria contributes to mental health issues in the trans community, transphobic discrimination and bullying are a near-universal experience among trans teens. And those who cannot share their identities with others are more likely to feel isolated or depressed, according to The Trevor Project.

“Having to hide your identity feeds a lot into feeling like you have to isolate yourself,” Payton said. “That spirals into anxiety: What if people don’t like me? Am I being too obvious? Am I not being obvious enough?”

Payton notes that the “stereotype that gay people act differently is often rooted in truth,” which can lead to bullying by peers who notice these differences.

“A lot of the way people act is rooted in gender norms,” they said. “If you’re trans and you don’t identify with those gender norms, you don’t want to act that way. That can lead to bullying and people treating you different, and that can also lead to depression and anxiety. It’s a vicious cycle — once you step foot in it, you’re caught.”

Bran worries that friends and family members would be “disgusted” or refuse to speak to them if they revealed their true gender identity.

“If I came out to them, I would lose them — that’s just how it is,” they said. “People nowadays are so much more accepting of being gay, but gender is a dealbreaker.”

While trans people can and do find refuge in safe spaces or with supportive friends, Bran notes that once they leave the relative safety of the St. John’s bubble, it is like “getting hit in the face.”

“I realize all of a sudden that people don’t want me around,” they said. “It’s easy to forget that we’re a minority when we go to a school like this, but less than 10 percent of people are queer.”

Being trans is the best thing that ever happened to me. I get to be my own creator.

DISSONANCE OF GENDER Without access to gender-affirming medical care, high school students are left to combat dysphoria on their own.

Payton tries to relieve their gender dysphoria by wearing loose-fitting clothing — extra-large sweatshirts are a staple of their wardrobe.

ILLUSTRATION | Diane Guo & Alice Xu

Despite the progress that America has made in accepting trans people, the Human Rights Campaign Foundation reported in December that 2021 was “the deadliest year on record” for transgender people. Texas, along with Florida and Pennsylvania, led the nation with five murders.

Jay Brown, who co-authored the report, said that the record number of anti-trans bills recently passed by state legislatures likely fueled the rise of all hate crimes.

Even for those who have avoided being the victim of violence, the constant barrage of transphobic policy decisions, like the one proposed by Gov. Abbott, can be exhausting.

“Having to think over and over again about what our parents would be subjected to — that’s traumatizing,” Bran said. “If I were to ever get [breast removal] surgery before I turn 18, my family could be separated, and that’s terrifying. But I don’t want to think about that every time I talk to someone.”

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING Through it all, Trautner loves being trans.

“Being trans is the best thing that ever happened to me,” they said. “I get, in such an embodied, concrete way, to be my own creator. I don’t think I would feel this amount of euphoria and strength and love in my expression if I were cis, because this is something I did for myself.”

After months of isolation and experimentation, they lived with their parents the summer after their freshman year of college. Trautner decided to come out as non-binary and introduce their new name to their parents.

Trautner’s coming out was “one of the scariest experiences of my life, but also one of the most joyous and affirming.”

“I always thought I had to love myself before I could do anything as scary and brave as coming out to my parents, but really the opposite was true,” Trautner said. “I tried thinking myself into loving myself, but it wasn’t until I asserted myself that that created love. For me, self-love was conjured.”

For trans people, figuring out their gender identity can be stressful and isolating. Asserting that identity can be dangerous. But Trautner finds joy in the mess.

“I know less and less about my gender identity every passing day, and it’s the most beautiful thing possible,” they said.

On Jan. 21, Trautner came to a forum hosted by PRISM to discuss their transgender journey and encourage students to assert themselves and love their queer identities.

“Transness is love,” they said. “I love myself enough to use a name for myself just because I like it better, to use pronouns just because they make me feel good in the face of this awful world — being trans gives me a very concrete way to conjure up more love for myself, just by my very being.”

Though transgender rights are frequently violated — by everyone from high school students to lawmakers at the highest levels of government — Merchant says that times are changing, and the trans community can persevere.

“We’ve all been broken down,” Merchant said, “but we’ve all built ourselves back up.”

12

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

CULTURE

Students skirt dress code to express individuality

By Serina Yan & Annie Villa

T

hroughout the halls of SJS, pops of bright colors and eye-catching patterns shine through a sea of navy and white polo shirts, plaid skirts and beige khakis. Although every student wears a uniform, many still find ways to stand out.

Uniforms create a sense of community and alleviate the stress of selecting an outfit every day, but they can also limit self-expression. Students are forced to find alternative and original ways to display their individuality.

“In a weird way, uniforms can demonstrate self-expression because, if you want to be expressive, you need to really want to,” senior Lily Pesikoff said.

“When you see people do cool things with their makeup, you know that they're putting in the extra effort.”

Although the dress code sets guidelines for clothing, students are free to experiment with footwear, jewelry and makeup. North Face backpacks, claw clips, double piercings and Nike Blazer sneakers have cemented themselves as SJS staples.

When it comes to shoes, Nike remains the most common, but brands like OnCloud, Hoka and Golden Goose are gaining popularity. Senior Lindsay Frankfort rotates three pairs of Doc Martens throughout the week, while freshman Elise DiPaolo often wears colorful platform shoes to school.

“Footwear is really making a breakthrough into our sense of style,” said freshman Talulah Monthy, who sports platform Oxfords. “Usually we’d express ourselves through shirts or pants, but instead we express ourselves through different kinds of shoes.”

Many trends are driven by social media platforms. Sites like TikTok and Instagram contribute to increasingly fast trend cycles, making it difficult for people to keep up with what is considered trendy. While most students still look to social media for fashion inspiration, others like Monthy are making an effort to find ideas elsewhere.

Your outfit is a way to strike up conversation and represent who you are.

LILY PESIKOFF

“I want to stay away from big trends that are going to go away in a week,” she said.

Although TikTok has greatly contributed to the rise of fast fashion and micro trends, the app also promotes self-expression and creativity. Junior Aspen Collins is a part of a “niche subgroup” of TikTok where “people wear whatever they want, despite what others say.”

These outfits can seem over-the-top and ugly to some, but Collins notes that the creators of the videos are always happy and confident in their attire. Because of TikTok, Collins feels more comfortable experimenting with fashion.

“I saw something that said what you’re wearing is either hot or camp,” Collins said. “I think a lot of the TikTokers I’m seeing are going more towards camp outfits—they’re so avantgarde and fashionable.”

The pandemic has had a significant impact on fashion trends as well. When Covid-19 first hit, loungewear dominated fashion trends since people were forced to stay at

home and had fewer incentives to dress formally. Collins noticed that when students returned to in-person classes in 2021, loungewear and comfortable clothing like sweatpants and leggings remained common.

Covid and subsequent lockdowns also prompted students to discover new hobbies, developing their sense of style. While quarantining at home in 2020, Pesikoff took up embroidery. She “fell in love” with the craft and began embroidering her school sweatshirts with colorful patterns and symbols — it allowed her to stand out from her peers and express herself within the boundaries of the uniform.

“If you give me a quick glance and only see my sweatshirt, you can take away bits and pieces of who I am,” Pesikoff said.

Accessories also allow students to showcase their styles. Sophomore Audrey Liu wears bright red shoes and leg warmers with her uniform to combat the cold, while senior Gabe de la Cruz dons unique earrings. Frankfort applies vibrant eyeliner that contrasts her monochromatic Doc Martens.

“You can tell a lot about a person by how they wear their uniform,” Liu said. “You can show your style without worrying about what you're going to wear everyday.”

Free dress days and spirit days provide an opportunity for students to express

Junior Aspen Collins uses beaded bracelets, silver rings and blue nail polish to accessorize her uniform.

PHOTO | Aleena Gilani themselves and display their sense of fashion outside of the confines of a uniform. Because he is normally restricted by the limited dress code, the flexibility of free dress day is liberating for de la Cruz.

“You don't have to think about what you’re going to wear every day,” de la Cruz said. “So, when you do think about it, it's definitely a special thing.”

Fashion can also help students connect with others.

“Your outfit is a way to strike up conversation and represent who you are,” Pesikoff said. “You don't even have to do anything — sometimes your clothes can do the talking for you.”

For Pesikoff, fashion symbolizes individuality. For DiPaolo, fashion fosters self-love and confidence. For Collins, fashion is a creative outlet and a way to stand out. The meaning of self-expression through clothing is different for everyone, but it is important to all.

“I feel amazing when I'm wearing something that I love,” Frankfort said. “I just think that wearing what makes you feel powerful and beautiful is something really special.”

The whirlwind rise of

By Indrani Maitra

I

n the 1960s, beatnik icons ushered in a wave of counterculture sounds, crystallizing some of the most important psychedelic rock songs into the music scene.

In the 2010s, the countercultural wave was more akin to a modern Alvin and the Chipmunks.

In 2014, an inscrutable music collective emerged, known only as P.C. Music. Out of its London headquarters surfaced a lucid, viscous brand of experimental music that seemed to perpetually glitch between “real” music and satire — the genesis of a niche, confounding pop-music phenomena dubbed “hyperpop.”

Early hyperpop releases writhe through brash, distorted bass lines, sampling saccharine synth melodies and booming percussions with the solitary goal of annihilating your ear drums. A staple of hyperpop is the heavily AutoTuned vocals — choruses of helium-addled Chipmunks bounce along invigorating hooks.

Hyperpop existed exclusively within the burgeoning digisphere, a strain of “terminally online” music that anyone with a computer editing software and a knack for the bizarre could create.

The label hyperpop seemed sensible — P.C. Music ringleader A.G. Cook’s shape-shifting creations eviscerated the boundaries of pop, inflating it to every possible extreme — hence the “hyper” prefix.

Yet labeling hyperpop as a subgenre is bewildering to some, stemming from the generally accepted definition of “pop” as music adhering to the rigid structure of versechorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus.

“I was showing hyperpop to [my English teacher] and he was like, ‘This doesn’t sound like a pop song at all,’” senior Lily Pesikoff said. “He thought hyperpop was supposed to be a normal radio pop at a fast pace, but what I was showing him was all over the place.”

Hyperpop intentionally eschews this conventional pop structure, opting for a formula of adrenaline-soaked chaos.

“That got me thinking about what pop even means and if hyperpop is even an accurate term at all,” Pesikoff said. “I feel like they just put that label on it because it was a new type of music.”

Perhaps one of the most unsung influences on the modern pop scene is SOPHIE, a Scottish musical visionary who worked with figures such as Rihanna and Vince Staples. She created her own warped pop reality, proliferating a sophisticated, hyperkinetic sound design whose blatant artificiality could be best compared to Orange Crush: garish colors, addictive texture, sticky and synthetic flavors — just pure, carbonated ecstasy. “[SOPHIE] created a type of music that had never been heard before and has not been heard since,” freshman Turner Edwards said.

Charli XCX’s 2016 EP “Vroom Vroom," which SOPHIE collaborated on, is widely regarded as hyperpop’s first venture into the mainstream. She essentially abdicated her reign as radio pop queen with an eclectic, electric sound.

“I guess people were really shocked with “Vroom, Vroom" because it was so far from the traditional pop norm,” Pesikoff said.

Pitchfork critics were dumbfounded and scored the project a 4.5, “obsessing over whether the project was satire or sincere.” In 2021, they rescored it to a 7.8.

The Internet has allowed hyperpop, an underground subculture, to penetrate the mainstream at an alarmingly rapid rate.

One of the most popular hyperpop bands of today, with over one million monthly listeners, is 100 Gecs. They tap into an avant-garde mosaic of musical influences, from third-wave ska bands to the exuberant pop-punk of Blink-182.

“I listened to them once and I could not tell if it was ironic or not,” senior Jackson Harvey said.

Yet, the novelties of 100 Gecs seem to grow on many.

“I like 100 Gecs because sometimes I’m not wanting to

hear a specific genre, I just want to hear something crazy!” senior Stefan Gustafson said.

In response to 100 Gecs’ startling popularity came the Spotify hyperpop playlist — a constantly updating archive of the microgenre’s essentials. It straddles disparate regions of music — from the Cyborgian ballads of Arca to the angsty cloud rap croons of Drain Gang. It seems the only aspects connecting these sounds are their bludgeoning irreverence and surrealist approach to the norm of pop.

Since “Vroom Vroom," then, the word ‘hyperpop’ has evolved into essentially a catch-all phrase to encompass all “weird” music.

“Honestly, I think there’s a big chance that pretty much any music that came from the internet has been retrospectively called hyperpop,” senior Will Smith said.

Beneath the absurdist tendencies, hyperpop songs contemplate profound subjects — corpo-humanism, gender identity, consumerism. Its misfit aesthetic encapsulates the anti-establishment, satirizing the corporate mills of music and late-stage capitalist dystopia.

“It's appealing in the way in which it parodies mainstream pop while also beating it at its own game,” senior Bo Farnell said.

It is ironic, then, how a supposedly rebellious genre has become so popular. For example, SOPHIE’s song "Lemonade" was featured in a McDonalds commercial, and A.G. Cook and Charli XCX were both contributors to Lady Gaga’s “Dawn of Chromatica” remix album. Their resistance to the mainstream has been commodified and aestheticized by that very mainstream.

“On the hate to love section on our senior questionnaire, I put 100 Gecs because they are socially acceptable to love, but they have the facade of being hated,” Pesikoff said.

What else can hyperpop do than to embrace that fate?

ILLUSTRATION & DESIGN | Serina Yan

CULTURE

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

13

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

STUDENTS BATTLE STIGMA AGAINST EAST ASIAN MEDIA

By Celine Huang, Lydia Gafford & Lucy Walker

T

hree years after one of senior Saviana Augustine’s friends told her she was “weird for listening to K-pop,” Augustine discovered that they had now become a fan, even calling the genre “cool.”

“You don’t say,” she said.

BTS, a K-pop boy band, was one of just two artists in 2020 to sell a half-million copies of an album in the U.S., and their single “Butter” broke the record for most weeks at No. 1 on Billboard’s Digital Singles chart in 2021. One of the most popular shows of 2021 was the Korean drama “Squid Game,” which was number one on Netflix for 53 days.

In February 2022, Parrot Analytics found that audience demand for the Japanese anime “Attack On Titan” is 57.8 times the demand of the average TV series in the U.S. American consumption of East Asian media has become mainstream. Augustine attributes this rise in popularity to increased time spent on platforms such as TikTok. The constant stream of international content can introduce people to a wider range of interests.

“People crave new experiences,” Augustine said.

Enjoying East Asian media has only recently become socially acceptable, but East Asian music, shows and animations have been a longstanding part of some American childhoods.

Augustine started watching anime in 2012 after her older cousins introduced her to “Sword Art Online.” She was drawn to the engaging plots and clean art style, so she began finding shows on her own.

“It’s just another form of storytelling,” Augustine said.

As she got older, Augustine noticed that some people resisted watching anime due to the difference in style or the subtitles.

“It’s work that people don’t necessarily want to put into watching a show,” Augustine said. But to her, dubbed versions — in which voice actors re-record the show in English — “don’t hit the same.”

ILLUSTRATION Celine Huang

ILLUSTRATION | Diane Guo, Celine Huang & Alice Xu Before anime reached mainstream popularity, Augustine had difficulty sharing her interest with friends because there was “no way for them to connect.”

“I wouldn’t talk about it until someone else brought it up,” she said. “Then I could bring myself into the conversation.”

While anime has gained a larger following, many remain skeptical and even dismissive of the genre. Anime is criticized for its use of fanservice, which is an element of a show that focuses mostly on appealing to the audience, rather than on storytelling. Fanservice often involves the use of excessive gore or sexualization of female characters to capture audience attention.

Despite its presence in American movies and television shows like “Euphoria,” fanservice is used as ammunition against anime far more often than in Western productions.

Mature animated series that originate in the United States are often readily accepted and given massive entertainment platforms like Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim. But, much of the risqué content accepted in shows like “Rick and Morty” and “South Park” is criticized in anime. Such popular shows are made with the intent of reaching older audiences — so are the anime that are condemned for similar content.

“Potential fans may like anime but not its negative reputation,” senior Isaí Meléndez said. “So they’ll just look for something else.”

American animation companies have drawn heavily from anime while avoiding the stigma that comes with the Asian label. “Avatar: The Last Airbender” is a prime example.

Although its art style and plot are clearly inspired by anime — specifically “FLCL” — it is not branded as such because it was produced by Nickelodeon. In an A.V. Club interview in 2000, “The Powerpuff Girls” creator Craig McCracken admitted the show’s anime influence: “The Japanese do the best action films in animation, so when you're studying animation, you look to the best sources you can for whatever you're trying to be inspired by.”

Anime such as “My Hero Academia” or “Naruto” have surged in popularity. Because of their entrance into mainstream entertainment, they have become as normalized as any other American animated series. They have escaped the negative connotation that follows the genre, and some have found it easier to openly enjoy these anime because there is less risk of immediate social condemnation.

“Now that anime is popular among white people, it's okay to be into it,” junior Ariana Lee said.

But Daniel Colson, president of the Comics and Manga Club, says that teens still tend to avoid less popular anime because “if you were to watch anything past the accepted ones, then you're getting into weirdo territory.”

At Club Fair, Colson found it difficult to attract new club members.

“A lot of people like that stuff but try to hide it,” Colson said. “Some people took one look at us and walked in the other direction.”

Those who exist well outside the “anime kid” persona advocate for the genre and help normalize it for other people.

“A lot of people who have joined the club do not strike me as stereotypical anime people,” Colson said.

While anime fans are typecast as nerdy, socially awkward adolescent boys, junior Isabel Soliman notes that Korean pop music is seen as a “teen girl obsession,” which

discourages some from exploring the genre.

“Anything teenage girls like will be made fun of,” Soliman said.

This sexism is only compounded by the bias against Asian media.

“People are way more forgiving when it’s people being crazy about Taylor Swift rather than people being crazy about BTS,” Augustine said.

K-pop boy groups are often disparaged for their makeup and fashion, scorned for “looking like girls.” The perceived femininity of East Asian culture can act as yet another barrier to the American mainstream, which embraces traditional Western expressions of masculinity.

While toxic masculinity is still prevalent in America, the rise of East Asian artists is exposing Western audiences to other expressions of gender through their music and performance. Augustine notes that the dancing associated with K-pop “heightens the experience” for viewers and differentiates the genre from most American pop. The complex choreography of K-pop live performances is setting new standards for pop music.

Dancing to K-pop songs provides a way to connect to Asian culture. At the 2019 East Asian Affinity Group

It's just another form of storytelling.

SAVI AUGUSTINE

assembly, Lee joined other members in performing a K-pop medley number.

“Most K-pop songs have their official choreography available for you to learn,” Lee said. “Having part of the marketing of a song be unique choreography appeals to me.”

At a small school like St. John’s, Augustine finds that it “feels harder to find people that would be receptive to listening to East Asian music.”

In an attempt to avoid conforming to racist stereotypes, some Asian students avoid media from Eastern culture. Lee internalized these sentiments in middle school when her older sister was discovering BTS, giving the genre a wide berth.

“I hated everything associated with K-pop, like how girls might internalize hatred for the color pink,” Lee said. “You don't want to be like all the other Asian kids. You want to be your own person, but everyone's grouping all of you together.”

At the start of the pandemic, Lee realized that none of the artists and celebrities she looked up to were Asian.

“That made me sad,” she said.

Her epiphany prompted her to start listening to Mandarin music with her sister.

“For the first time we were actually able to share a taste in music and find songs to recommend,” Lee said.

Her quest for more Asian representation began with the singer-songwriter Conan Gray, and from there she found artists such as Chinese hip-hop acts Higher Brothers and Jony J. as well as Hong Kong singer G.E.M. “I felt a strong connection to them,” she said.

While some students still struggle to enjoy what they want due to the risk of being judged, Lee has grown to love East Asian music without fear.

“I think I've come a long way,” she said.

14

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

ADVERTISEMENT

HIGHLAND VILLAGE

EXCLUSIVELY FOR ST . JO HN 'S F AC U L TY AN D S T UD E N TS

E N J O Y 10 % O F F O N Y O UR O RD E R AT

S W E E T P A R IS H I G H LA ND VI LLAGE !

JU ST BR ING Y OUR S T . J O HN' S ID T O R E D EE M D IS C O UN T 2 70 1 Dr e xe l Dr , Ho u s ton , TX 77 027

SPORTS

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

15

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

The politics of running up the score: Walking the fine line between a big win and a beatdown

S SPORTS Winning big is often viewed not as an example of athletic excellence, but a violation of sportsmanship.

PHOTOILLUSTRATION| Sarah Clark & Max Stith

By Afraaz Malick & Amanda Brantley

B

efore any Maverick takes Skip Lee Field, they pass a metal sign, battered from helmets and sticks. Yet the words Not Without Honor remain visible.

“We want to be the standard of sportsmanship,” Athletic Director Vincent Arduini said. “When we go out to play, we're not just representing that program. We're representing St. John's School and all the values that we preach and embrace.”

The tenets of sportsmanship include respect, responsibility, fairness, honesty, integrity and good citizenship. These are not controversial. Running up the score is.

While most aspects of sportsmanship are enforced with yellow penalty flags and whistles throughout the Southwestern Preparatory Conference, the score is largely a gray area. In football, if the lead is greater than 40 points in the second half, the clock continues to run even if the ball is out of bounds. Basketball, field hockey, soccer and lacrosse have no official rules.

En route to Houston Christian girls’ basketball’s perfect season (33-0, 8-0 SPC), they demolished teams during SPC counter games, defeating St. Andrew's 120-30 and St. Stephen's 90-10.

In lacrosse and field hockey tournaments, the number of goals scored is often a metric to determine seeding.

Freshman lacrosse player Hailey Buck says that when they fall behind and lose to a team early in a tournament, there is often pressure to score even more goals in their next game.

During the winter season, Hockaday girls’ soccer defeated Oakridge 14-0. Episcopal girls’ soccer similarly blew out John Cooper 12-0. In the NCAA, the leading Division I soccer program averaged 3.2 goals per game.

There is no written rule about running up the score at St. John’s, so Arduini places the responsibility of promoting sportsmanship in the conference on administrators and coaches, but he does not always see other schools doing the same.

We're not just representing that program. We're representing St. John's.

VINCENT ARDUINI

“Some coaches believe it's not their responsibility to keep the score down — it's the opponent's responsibility because of how they play and defend,” Arduini said. “The coaches here are extremely cognizant.”

Since some sports have no written rules, coaches use different methods to ensure teams are never disrespecting opponents by running up the score, at any level of competition.

In girls’ soccer, coaches use alternate methods of scoring, such as only using headers for shots on goal, which makes it much more difficult when the game is already decided.

“We have two terms called Seniors and Juniors,” goalie Savi Augustine said. “You can only score on crosses if Seniors is called, and you can only score on headers when Juniors is called.”

Another contentious aspect of sportsmanship arises at the JV level. Over the past few years, there have been multiple instances where varsity athletes are brought

down to play JV, only to play in the varsity game later that night.

Freshman point guard Sammie Anaipakos recalls how one school played varsity players that “they didn’t really need” in a JV game.

“We were losing to them by an excessive amount of points,” Anaipakos said. “Even after the varsity players left the game, they pressed, scored, ran fast breaks and used all of their fancy plays to try and get as far ahead as possible.”

Arduini believes the scoreboard at the JV level should never be the primary focus.

“If coaches make that decision to have varsity level players play at the JV level, that would be really disappointing,” he said. “The JV level is an opportunity for these athletes to develop their skills, learn what it means to be a part of that program and get better at the fundamentals. The higher you go, the more prevalent the scoreboard becomes.”

St. John’s is a member of the Positive Coaching Alliance, which preaches better athletes, better people. According to the group's website, they strive to form “a positive, inclusive sports culture that develops social and emotional skills, molds character and prepares [athletes] for competition and life.”

The athletic slogan of “Not Without Honor” goes hand in hand with those values.

“We are not perfect, certainly,” he said. “But we try our best in terms of being respectful of these other teams and allowing our players to develop and enjoy participating.”

Having reached this year’s final sports season, Arduini plans to submit a proposal adding a mercy rule for SPC basketball, similar to football. In his research, he found that in many other states, especially those where basketball is seen as a primary sport such as Indiana and Kansas, mercy rules exist. They do not in the University Interscholastic League or the Texas Association of Private and Parochial Schools.

“I'm going to put it out there just as a safety buffer, so we don't get into a situation in the future where you see 100 points,” Arduini said. “The optics of it look very poor.”

Anaipakos would support options such as a running clock or a variation of a mercy rule for JV basketball.

“Varsity is a lot more competitive,” she said. “But I'm really proud of our team for staying proud and still trying our hardest even on the receiving end of running up the score.”

In addition to considering Arduini’s proposal, SPC approved a 35-second shot clock for conference games. This change will go into effect for the 2022-23 season. The shot clock will likely force teams to play the game at a quicker pace.

“Teams that like to run up the score also tend to hold the ball later,” Anaipakos said. “A shot clock makes the teams shoot quickly and make an actual play.”

While Arduini works on his proposal and continues to foster a culture of respect and sportsmanship on the field, he would like Mavericks to always play with honor.

“If you need to disrespect your opponent in order to win, winning is meaningless,” Arduini said. “You never want to disrespect your opponent or the game itself just to win."

In SPC softball, the game ends if a team is up by 15 runs after the third inning or up by 10 runs after the fifth.

COURTESY PHOTO | Sonia Zhang

16

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

SPORTS

Senior athletes named Players of the Year

By Lillian Poag

O

n the south wall above Liu Court, next to the electronic scoreboard, hang two banners commemorating the back-to-back Texas Gatorade Player of the Year awards won by NBA forward Justise Winslow (’14) while he was with the Mavs.

Winslow now has company.

On Jan. 31, senior cross-country runner Emmanuel Sgouros was named the Texas Gatorade Player of the Year in his sport.

Each year, Gatorade nominates athletes from across the country for the State and National Player of the Year award. The organization then presents the award to one male and one female athlete from each state per sport.

In addition to having his banner hung next to Winslow’s, Sgouros will receive a $1,000 grant to donate to a charity of his choice. He has chosen Girls on the Run, a non-profit organization that promotes empowerment for girls ages 8 to 13.

“I wanted to find a charity that would help underprivileged kids find interest in running because there is a lot to be learned from this sport, and it's not too expensive,” Sgouros said.

In a press release, Gatorade announced the award “recognizes not only outstanding athletic excellence, but also high standards of academic achievement and exemplary character demonstrated on and off the field.”

Sgouros has dreamed of receiving this award since he started cross country.

“When I was younger, I looked up to the older guys who won this award before me,” Sgouros said. “It was always a goal to get to where they were at my age, so to receive the award, too, feels great.”

Cross-country and track & field head coach Richie Mercado takes pride in Sgouros’s achievement and notes the encouraging effect that the recognition may have on other Maverick runners as

a result of the increased media coverage.

“Emmanuel is a great ambassador for the sport in the way that he acts and helps out younger athletes,” Mercado said.

“I have never met an athlete more disciplined, and this achievement will make people realize that private school runners are just as good as public school runners, so they should be reported on, too.”

Sgouros was not the only senior who received recognition for their performance last fall.

Sloan Davidson, a standout field hockey player for the Mavs, received the Texas/Oklahoma State Player of the Year award as well as the Midwest Regional Player of the Year.

Davidson signed a letter of intent to play Division I at the University of Virginia next fall. She was nominated by head coach Becky Elliott for the awards, and a few months later, Davidson got the good news that she won both, a feat that no other St. John’s player has accomplished.

“These awards made me feel Emmanuel Sgouros and Sloan Davidson received Gatorade Player of the Year and like all my hard work paid off,” Midwest Regional Player of the Year, respectively.

Davidson said. “This honor was PHOTO | Sarah Clark a great way to wrap up my last season and field hockey career at continues to play on her club field hockey University of Texas Longhorns.

St John’s.” team so she will be ready for the rigorous “There are greater expectations for me Elliott was proud to nominate Davidson NCAA competition. in college, and the level of competition is for the awards.

“If there is anyone that can succeed in definitely higher, but that isn’t something “Sloan embodies what it means to be a college, it’s Sloan Davidson,” Elliott said. that scares me,” Sgouros said. “If anything, nationally ranked player, and she shows “She has high expectations for herself and it motivates me more.” younger players that it is possible, even those around her and then works hard to with a rigorous academic schedule, to reach them. I think she will do very well achieve these high honors.” and have fun playing at that next level.”

Now that her Maverick field hockey Like Davidson, Sgouros will be competing career is over, Davidson is enjoying her in Division I next fall as a runner for the role as captain of the lacrosse team and

SPORTS

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

17

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

Coach awarded highest track and field honor

Beyond St. John's, Coach Mercado has worked with many star athletes such as pentathlete Anna Hall.

By Wilson Bailey

A

t Oliver Lin’s first-ever crosscountry practice in sixth grade, head coach Richie Mercado addressed the team as they stretched. As he was warming up, Lin heard his friend tell a joke. He laughed. Mercado looked him right in the eyes and said, “You’re off the team.”

After 30 seconds of dread, Lin was reinstated.

The second time he was kicked off the team, Mercado forgot to tell Lin he was joking.

“I sulked over to the library after practice and cried,” Lin said.

Now a junior, Lin has been kicked off the team every cross-country and track season since then, ten seasons total, only to have Mercado bring him back.

Despite his biannual demotion, their bond, based on a wry sense of humor and passion for the sport, surpasses any relationship Lin has had with other teachers and coaches, even though Lin admits he will not be breaking any school records.

It’s inspiring to have a coach that will talk to you...no matter if you’re the best or worst runner on the team.

OLIVER LIN

“It’s inspiring to have a coach that will talk to you if your times are not where they need to be, no matter if you’re the best or worst runner on the team,” Lin said.

Ask the hundreds of runners Mercado has coached and they will all tell you that Mercado lives and breathes track. For his five decades of service to the sport, Mercado received the 2021 Fred Wilt Educator of the Year award, USA Track & Field’s highest honor.

Mercado got his start when he was eight years old watching Dick Fosbury shatter the world record in the high jump in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics. In between watching events on his black-and-white television, Mercado practiced the “Fosbury Flop” in his backyard over pieces of spare iron, landing on an old mattress.

Several years later, as a freshman at St. John’s, Mercado set the school high jump record.

As a sophomore in 1977, Mercado mentored a 6-foot-9 freshman named Ethan Glass who immediately obliterated Mercado’s high jump record that season. It was the first of many school records to fall

thanks to Mercado’s coaching.

Glass went on to break the record again each year. He set the long jump record, competed collegiately in basketball and track at Texas A&M and qualified for the Olympic Trials in 1984.

“Nobody really knew how to help him,” Mercado said. “He was tall and gawky, but really athletic. I helped him and he promptly beat my record by eight inches.”

Mercado attended the University of Virginia, intending to play goalkeeper for the Cavaliers soccer team. After three weeks of tryouts, he was cut. A member of the track team who lived in Mercado’s dorm convinced him to try out that spring as a high jumper. Next year, Mercado returned to the track months before the season started to prepare for upcoming tryouts.

He was cut again.

Mercado returned his junior year in better shape, but his coach told him he was still not good enough to make the team as a high jumper, so he became a decathlete.

“That’s where my love of events really started,” Mercado said. “I got to do events I thought my body was not cut out for.”

Although he was “not very high scoring” in the decathlon, Mercado trained diligently. During one summer on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, he would run dozens of laps around a helipad each morning.

“I figured out it was 65 laps to the mile,” Mercado said. “Basically like running around a basketball half-court, but on twoinch-thick steel.”

Mercado, who received a BA in US History, considered attending law school, but ultimately decided “he did not want to deal with other people’s problems and paperwork” as a career. After a brief stint in international competition, Mercado landed back in Houston working a “not very exciting job downtown” in the energy sector.

While working a white-collar job, Mercado continued to train at Rice and St. John’s.

“Athletes would say they are training for the Olympic Trials,” Mercado said. He wasn’t. “But I was still having fun training and messing around with decathlon. I’d go around to all the different venues and run around the track. I’d run down the long jump runway, and I’d run across the high jump, and I’d go out to shotput and discus just to keep in touch with everything.”

In 1984, Mercado asked head coach Wes Reade if he could help coach the hurdlers.

That year, the track team dominated the SPC competition. Two years later, Mercado was at the helm of the program, and he became cross-country head coach in 1989.

PHOTO | David Hall

Mercado has won 14 SPC titles, more Episcopal that year. They were the better than any coach in school history. Since team,” Mercado said. “But we had the his arrival, every single track and crossperfect meet — it was one of those things country record has been broken — except that just leaves you in shock for a while.” the high jump mark set by his teammate It was the first time that Mercado had Glass back in 1979. bested his former coach, Dick Phillips, at “Track is a team sport,” Mercado said.

SPC. “We might not have the best talent, but St. When the subject of legacy is brought John’s kids work hard to contribute all they up, he is adamant that the track will not be can to that team score.” named after him. According to Mercado, Mercado has been heavily involved with that honor is to live with Frank McMurrey.

USA Track & Field since 1990. He has also McMurrey, a star 400-meter runner, run clinics in the Caribbean as part of suffered a fatal heart attack during a race the North America, Central America and in 1972.

Caribbean Athletics Association, which “You’ve got to have historical brings in speakers to teach local athletes institutional memory for a place,” Mercado and coaches about the sport. said. “You have to remember the Frank “Before the Internet, our coaching clinics McMurreys, the Paul Geises, the Jackie were their biggest resource.”

Modesetts. Some of those legends are no In the running world, Mercado seems to longer on the record board, but deserve to know everyone. be remembered.”

“I’ve been fortunate enough to meet and pick the brains of some of the best athletes and coaches in the world.”

Over the past two years, conferences and clinics have been canceled due to the pandemic, so Mercado participated in Zoom sessions, some of which garnered tens of thousands of viewers.

“Part of the fun is that they’re so hungry to learn,” Mercado said. “During the pandemic, learning about track on Zoom was something to do — and it was free.”

For his efforts at St. John’s, on Zoom and abroad, Mercado received the 2021 Fred Wilt Educator of the Year Award, named after Purdue University head coach whom Mercado met over 30 years ago at a track clinic.

Of the seven USATF recipients, Mercado was the only high school coach honored.

Even though Mercado has coached champions, seen world records fall and pioneered coaching in Central and South America, his favorite memory was the victory of the girls’ team at spring SPC in 2010, which took place on the track of “the school who wears blue down the street.” The meet came down to the final event, the 4x400-meter relay, an especially Mercado competed in the high jump for St. John's at a meet hosted by Casady. strong event for the Knights.

“We had no business beating

COURTESY PHOTO | Richie Mercado

18

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

OPINIONS

O OPINIONS

Reinforcing gender roles: The hidden sexism of Sadie Hawkins dances ILLUSTRATION | Lily Feather

By Lily Feather

S

adie Hawkins, the namesake of an event in which girls ask boys to be their dates, was allegedly “the homeliest gal in all them hills.” Her father was the most powerful man in town, but alas, Sadie committed the ultimate sin for a woman — being an undesirable spinster at the ripe old age of 35.

In a last-ditch effort to marry off his aesthetically challenged daughter, her father founded “Sadie Hawkins Day,” a foot race in which Sadie would chase after all the eligible bachelors in town. The sad sack who got caught was legally bound to marry Sadie.

Here’s the catch: Sadie Hawkins wasn’t a real person — she was a cartoon character from Al Capp’s 1937 comic strip Li’l Abner.

But she has still become the figurehead of events that are supposed to empower women.

Girl-ask-boy soirées are often seen as a feminist twist on dances that require boys to ask girls. Some say Sadie Hawkins dances provide a positive opportunity for girls to take charge. It probably was a positive opportunity — in 1937.

An acquaintance suggested that Sadie Hawkins dances are essential because girls might be “too shy” to ask boys otherwise.

A society that restricts this empowerment to one particular day, requiring girls to wait years before they can partake in a traditionally male activity, does not count female empowerment among its top priorities. To break free of these constraints is to normalize the idea that anyone can ask anyone to any dance.

In today’s world, girls ask boys to dances or pay for movie tickets all the time. A Sadie Hawkins dance is no longer a novel opportunity — it’s a chance for girls to do something they do anyway. Holding a dance in which girls ask boys is like having a special day when girls write computer code or run for political office.

Sadie Hawkins-style dances can also be exclusive. When girls are required to ask the guys, LGBTQ+ couples or two same-sex friends who want to attend together might be excluded. (It must be noted, however, that Sadie Hawkins dances at St. John’s do not exclude same-sex partners).

Furthermore, the story of Sadie Hawkins

is overtly sexist and completely outdated.

As for Al Capp, he was a misogynist who was known for sexually assaulting aspiring actresses, from Grace Kelly to Goldie Hawn.

Sadie Hawkins dances aren’t the only way that the “role reversal” trope, in which swapping gender roles is the theme for an event, plays out in our society.

Take Powderpuff football — events in which girls “get” to play a football game — almost exclusively coached by guys who “actually” play football. The not-so-subtle misogyny of the name, inspired by fluffy makeup applicators popular in the 1940s, implies that girls are busy powdering their noses instead of taking the game seriously.

The sport embodies the sort of sexism that’s hard to call out because supporters of the game say that the girls take it seriously and enjoy it — and they might!

However, Powderpuff clouds the actual enjoyment the girls might get from playing football with mockery.

Another outdated yet well-meaning celebration: Take Your Daughter To Work Day, which falls on April 28 this year. Established in 1993 (and expanded

to include sons in 2003), the day aims to provide girls a glimpse of a life in professional careers. But women in the workplace is no longer a revolutionary idea.

Like Sadie Hawkins dances, Take Your Daughter to Work Day implies that society is trying to make up for all the times when women didn’t get to make their own choices — but only for one day a year. Ooh, a crumb!

All these role-reversal events play into outdated stereotypes, and, as gender roles become less relevant in our society, role-reversal events don’t seem novel or interesting anymore.

Changes will need to be made gradually to normalize the idea of women asking men out so that everyone becomes comfortable. The end solution should be simple: when dances take place, anyone should be able to ask anyone. No exceptions, no exclusions.

Thin ice: The mental and physical toll of figure skating

By Serina Yan

I

t’s the finals of the ladies’ singles figure skating at the Beijing Olympics.

17-year-old Anna Scherbakova of the Russian Olympic Committee has just won gold, and her teammate Alexandra Trusova, also 17, has taken silver. But there is no joy, no frenzy of congratulations, no smiles, no laughter.

A few feet away from the newly crowned Olympic champion stands her distraught 15-year-old teammate Kamila Valieva, surrounded by her handlers, including coach Eteri Tuberitdze and the press corps.

The cameras were there to capture every painful moment in the fall of the gold medal favorite as Tutberidze berated her for failing to fulfill the world’s expectations of her. It’s a troubling sight, but one that perfectly reflects the current state of women’s figure skating.

Valieva ignited a firestorm just days earlier when she tested positive for an illegal heart drug, but the International Olympic Committee allowed her to compete. The doping scandal increased media scrutiny, no doubt contributing to a disappointing free skate from Valieva.

As she left the ice sobbing, Tutberidze approached her without an ounce of sympathy to ask, “Why did you stop fighting?”

Tutberidze was a failed figure skater who switched to ice dancing, eventually performing in the Ice Capades in the U.S. in the 1990s before she became a Russian

coach in the 2000s. withdrew from multiple competitions due Those who were supposed to act in to back and foot injuries.

Valieva's best interest utterly failed her.

While Medvedeva was out, another Trusova, who performed an 15-year-old Turberidze protege, Alina unprecedented five quads in her free Zagitova, entered the picture. At the 2018 skate, was devastated to finish second to Pyeongchang Olympics, Zagitova narrowly Scherbakova, who said she felt “empty” won gold over Medvedeva, who retired this after winning. year due to a chronic back injury.

These three athletes, all minors, endured Following the Olympics, Zagitova’s years of brutal training to compete. In the performances were plagued by end, they collectively broke down. Their inconsistency. In 2019, at the age of 17, she plight is indicative of the announced she was taking a disturbing exploitation of break from skating — she has young figure skaters. not returned.

Trusova’s fury, Trusova’s fury, The cycle is strikingly clear.

Scherbakova’s Scherbakova’s silence and Tutberidze produces one silence and Valieva’s tears all stem from bright new figure skating star Valieva’s tears systemic abuse. after another, and as soon as all stem from Previous Russian figure they get hurt or get too old systemic abuse. skating stars, including (since when is 21 too old?), she Yulia Lipnitskaya, Evgenia replaces them.

Medvedeva and Alina Their careers are short Zagitova all trained under Tutberidze — and because, once they hit puberty and reach all stopped skating before they reached 22. a certain weight, they are unable to Lipnitskaya received international perform pre-rotation, a harsh technique attention during the 2014 Sochi Olympics used to land difficult jumps that puts when the 15-year-old helped her team significant strain on the skater’s back. win gold with a near-perfect free skate.

Furthermore, Tutberidze imposes strict She retired in 2017 due to injuries and an diets for her skaters, promoting starvation eating disorder. and dehydration, which ultimately prove As Lipnitskaya’s career ended, her unsustainable. By the time the girls hit teammate, 15-year-old Evgenia Medvedeva, puberty, the technique stops working, and took the figure skating world by storm. thus the career-ending injuries occur. By When the 2018 Olympic season rolled the time the skaters reach 20, their bodies around, Medvedeva began to struggle and are too damaged to continue.

Amazingly, the physical hardships pale in comparison to the psychological.

Tutberidze’s training is abusive, dehumanizing and exploitative, yet she shows no signs of stopping, even describing her students as “products.” As Russian skaters repeatedly suffer the same consequences, her training techniques remain unchanged.

International figure skating has seen change in recent years. Quads and triple axels, known as ultra-c jumps, were once considered extraordinary feats, but the rise in popularity of quad jumps has made them a prerequisite to medaling.

Competitive figure skating used to value precision, artistry and creativity, but those aspects have largely been lost — we see the same quad-filled routines over and over, especially from Team Tutberidze.

Because only prepubescent skaters can land difficult jumps, the sport has become younger and younger and careers end far too quickly. Case in point: only one woman who skated in the 2018 Pyeongchang Olympics (Kaori Sakamoto of Japan) competed in Beijing.

Adults like Tutberidze must be held accountable for their wildly irresponsible and harmful actions. Raising the minimum age to compete in senior figure skating events from 15 to 17 could help stem the tide of rampant exploitation and abuse.

But the damage is already done.

OPINIONS

MARCH 10, 2022

THE REVIEW

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

19

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS St. John's School 2401 Claremont Lane Houston, TX 77019 review.sjs@gmail.com sjsreview.com Facebook SJS Review Twitter @SJS_Review Instagram @sjsreview

Member National Scholastic Press Assn.

Pacemaker 2015, 2018 Pacemaker Finalist 2019, 2020, 2021 Best of Show 2021

Member Columbia Scholastic Press Assn.

Gold Crown 2015, 2020, 2021 Silver Crown 2014, 2016-2019 Crown Finalist 2022

Blue and Gold Award 2019 SNO Distinguished Site 2018–2022 Print Editors-in-Chief Celine Huang, Russell Li, Ella West Online Editors-in-Chief Megan Chang and Ashley Yen Executive Editors Ella Chen, Indrani Maitra, Afraaz Malick Assignment Editors Wilson Bailey, Cameron Ederle, Ellie Monday Section Editors Dawson Chang and Ella Piper Claffy Copy Editors Abigail Hindman, Mia Hong, Annie Jones, Lillian Poag Design Editors Diane Guo, Max Stith, Alice Xu Photography and Video Editors Sarah Clark, Lexi Guo, James Li Business Manager Sophia Jazaeri Staff

Ellison Albright, Georgia Andrews, Lauren Baker, Natalie Boquist, Amanda Brantley, Thomas Center, Emma Chang, Kaitlyn Chang, Virginia Carolyn Crawford, Isabella Diaz-Mira, Turner Edwards, Louis Faillace, Lily Feather, Lydia Gafford, Aleena Gilani, Nick Hensel, Mia Hirshfield, Elizabeth Hu, Smith Inglesby, Natasha Janssens, Johnathon Li, Richard Liang, Jennifer Liu, Penelope Macpherson, Arjun Maitra, Sloane Merideth, Sierra Ondo, Laura Papeians de Morchoven, David Schaefer, Alexis Triantaphyllis, Annie Villa, Lucy Walker, Chloe West, Serina Yan, Katharine Yao, Willow Zerr and Evan Zhang

Advisers David Nathan, Shelley Stein ('88), Sorrel Westbrook Mission Statement The Review strives to report on issues with integrity, to recognize the assiduous efforts of all and to serve as an engine of discourse within the St. John's community.

Publication Info We mail each issue of The Review — free of charge — to every Upper School household­with an additional 1,000 copies distributed on campus to our 700 students and 98 faculty.

Policies The Review provides a forum for student writing and opinion. The opinions and staff editorials contained herein do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Head of School or the Board of Trustees of St. John's School. Staff editorials represent the opinion of the entire Editorial Board unless otherwise noted. Writers and photographers are credited with a byline.

Corrections, when necessary, can be found on the editorial pages. Running an advertisement does not imply endorsement by the school.

Submission Guidelines Letters to the editor and guest columns are encouraged but are subject to editing for clarity, space, accuracy and taste. On occasion, we publish letters anonymously. We reserve the right not to print letters. Letters and guest columns can be emailed to review.sjs@gmail.com.

What to do amid a global conflict?

A

s the senior class gathered in the Chao Room to watch peers Eve Kroencke and Bo Farnell dash around campus and piece together clues for the prom theme, a silver 0022 overtook the screen. Met with gold streamers five minutes later, seniors entered a James Bond-inspired plaza, complete with a 10-foot tuxedo backdrop, a red carpet and customized SJS poker chips, cookies and cards.

Six-thousand miles away, Russia had begun a full-scale invasion of Ukraine, inflaming global tensions as the defending nation imposed martial law in a struggle for its very existence.

The unprompted act of aggression does not detract from the joy that the March 2 prom reveal generated as we cheered on the well-dressed senior duo that starred in a bona fide espionage thriller. Since several Bond novels and films feature the Cold War as a backdrop and inspiration for antagonists, we couldn’t help but compare the playful spyworld fantasy to the modern-day Cold War that appears poised at our doorstep.

Having spent years — for some, over a decade — sheltered within the bubble of 2401 Claremont Lane, we may find ourselves disconnected from the geopolitical issues that threaten the fabric of global society.

Other teenagers of similar heights and ages and mindsets around the world do not have that luxury. The current conflict in Eastern Europe has thrust many into physical peril and moral turmoil, forcing them to find courage and take responsibility for the well-being of themselves and others.

Russia’s invasion has already begun to burst the bubble; many at St. John’s have Ukrainian or Russian connections. At the March 9 Unity Council Russia/Ukraine forum, we heard poignant speeches by juniors Katya Bigman and Margot Kades regarding the historical background and importance of educating oneself about the conflict. And as legal adulthood nears — for many, it has already arrived — the shield of a private school education will no longer offer protection. We must accept that little separates us from the teenagers who live in areas ravaged by the invasion, who find themselves on the other side or who lack a direct stake but are making an effort to help. Should a similar situation strike us, we ought to take a page from their book.

Thousands of young adults have been forced to mature rapidly, arming themselves in preparation to defend their families, clearing rubble to aid the evacuation of their neighbors or physically blocking invading tanks. Simultaneously, we see numerous TikToks of Ukrainian teens huddling in bomb shelters or using industrial heat guns to blow-dry their hair. Across the line of battle, the trepidation of Russian recruits stands out; footage of captured soldiers calling their parents shows that many on the front line know little of the invasion’s purpose and are haplessly following orders.

Though one might not expect those who have neither Ukrainian nor Russian heritage to contribute, teenagers have unhesitatingly done so. Under the organization Harmony for Healing, Juilliard students are holding a benefit concert to raise funds for medical supplies and humanitarian aid. College freshman Jack Sweeney has created a Twitter bot (@PutinJet) that scrapes public flight data to track and publish the flight statuses of jets used by Russian president Vladimir Putin and other government officials.

People our age are far from the only inspirational figures that the conflict has illuminated. Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky has embodied lionhearted leadership over the last several weeks with his public remarks that he will serve his

country until the bitter end and consistent defiance of Russian assassination attempts. Zelensky possesses fortitude that seemingly draws on the experience of a career politician, but the mere three-year removal from his previous professions as an actor and comedian show that one does not have to be an expert in conflict to lead others in a time of need.

Across the globe, teenagers are standing in solidarity with Ukraine and leading efforts to help fellow humans in need. Few differences exist between us and them, so we urge you to do the same.

We stand with Ukraine,

Ella West

Russell Li

Celine Huang

20

ST. JOHN’S SCHOOL

THE REVIEW

MARCH 10, 2022

BACK PAGE

Seize the day!

On March 3 - 5, Johnnycake presented Disney's "Newsies."

1

2

3 1

Katherine Plumber, played by senior Lindsay Frankfort, holds up a copy of The Sun as the newsies celebrate the front page story covering their strike.

2

Katherine Plumber, Jack Kelly (Bobby Hlavinka) and brothers Davey and Les (Tanner Watson and Maggie Henneman) strategize about the strike.

3

At a rally held by newsies in Medda Larkin’s theater, kids from different boroughs band together to fight for fair working conditions.

4

4

Spot Conlon, played by junior Claire Schwanauer, leads a gang of Brooklyn newsies gathering to show their support and join the strike.

PHOTOS | Isabella Diaz-Mira DESIGN | Sarah Clark & Celine Huang