FEB PROOF

Executive Editor Rachel Fox

Managing Editor Haley McCabe

Art Editor

Sofia Gutierrez-Dewar

Layout Editors Blair Johnson Anna Luke Stephanie Sabatini

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Resident Artist Maria Ikonomou

Staff

Anna Argente Sasha Bobrowicz Gaby Busque Max Goldenstien Russell Gurman Nicky Hug Caitlin Kenney Tevita Langi Jeff LaPlante Bridget Maga単a Suzie McMurtry Jason Mouchawar Laurin Noguchi Lindsey Sepulveda Laurin Smith Roger Upton Alyssa Westfield Philip Witham

FInancial Officer Helen Burke

Photo Editors Prescott Foland Emily Johnson Keara Haldeman

Photo Contributors JP Nash Naomi Pacalin

Brooke Delly Mao Mei Sonkin Nathaniel Skinner

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CONTENTS ART

5.00 Anne’s Coffe Shop Free Food Goes Far Great Places to Snowboard Thespians The Pain They Think They Know

CREATIVE WRITING

18.00

Robot Totem Pole 8-9 Playing with Light 19 Continuous Faces 23 Floating 24-25 Color Wheel 33 Cityscape Painting

FEATURES

14.00 Sally 16-17 Zombie Plan 20 Because I Feel 32 A Modern Storm 42-43 Thats not water you’re standing in

JUST FOR FUN Senior Bucket List, 7 Bell Schedule Comic 40-41 Music Suggestions

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Photography Suzie McMurty

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Photography Stan Kuboi

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by Suzie McMurtry

Ann’s Coffee Shop: I’ll Have the Usual

I

walk in and lower the average age by about 40 years.

The man with the red suspenders and beard is here again, having coffee, like nearly everyone else. I would like to think he sits in the same place he always does. On the wall there are some newspaper clippings from 1985; The Palo Alto Weekly says, “Ann’s: Where Familiarity Breeds Content”, and “Ann’s: A Slice of Pie, A Slice of Life”. This describes the nostalgia of Ann’s perfectly. When you walk in, you hear the low hum of the old fridge, some friendly conversation, and spoons hitting the insides of cups.

There are a lot of regulars. Isela, an employee of four months, says that people she sees routinely always “think that I know what they want”, but she has yet to memorize these frequenters’ orders. Isela says that Ann’s coffee shop only has two cooks. These guys pump out plate after plate of hash browns and eggs from opening to closing.

Saturday is the busiest day. There are lines out the door containing different aged locals; as Ann’s has evolved into a tradition for some Menlo Park families. But this family friendly breakfast and coffee shop has become more than the 6 franchise you would expect from such a description. Unlike

Stacks, just a couple blocks down, Ann’s is truly a Menlo Park “restaurant”. In 1946 when Ann’s was built, World War II had just ended, Vietnam was still a French colony, Frank Sinatra’s “The Coffee Song” was #6 on the charts, and downtown Menlo Park was a vast orchard. Times have changed and the apple-growers of Menlo Park, California are nearly forgotten. Ann’s is one of the only remaining businesses that makes the relatives of the oldest local families feel comforted by this time capsule of a restaurant.

As of 2008, Nikki and her son George own Ann’s.

Nikki says “they call [her] Ann”. Nikki is Greek, and she was indescribably kind when I asked her why she kept it the same. She already knew that the regulars would put up with a change, so she dared not change anything major.

But as “going green” was and is the trend, Nikki decided to just switch from standard bulbs to energy-efficient ones in the light fixtures. But even this was an outrage to the regulars, and she had to go back to the old bulbs.

Menlo Park teenagers might see Ann’s as a hangover cure, the best hash browns in town, or a portal to the 70s, just lacking cigarette smoke and a jukebox.

Bell Schedule: 2009-2010

Bell Schedule: 2010-2011

Bell Schedule: 2010-2011 (+ 0 Period)

CAR BATTERY

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by Max Goldenstein

L GHTS L GHTS L G

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PHOTOGRAPHY (Clockwise from top left): Rachel Fox, Digital Photography I, Broo

GHTS L GHTS L GHTS

Brooke Delly,

Shayda Abadi, Prescott Foland, Rachel Fox, Rachel Fox, Prescott Foland

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Free Food Goes Far

by Max Goldenstein

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t’s 12:50 p.m. on a Monday afternoon and you walk out to meet up with your friends at your usual lunch spot, by the benches.

You open your crisp paper bag lunch to find two slices of a sandwich, a bag of chips, pretzels, cherries, a yogurt container, and some sugar-filled box of juice. This may be normal for you, but not normal for a hefty portion of the school.

A quarter of Menlo-Atherton High School’s students do not have their mothers pack a buffet of packaged goods in a brown sack with a cute little message saying “have a nice day,” but rather, have their meals provided to them by

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means of the school. The Food Subsidies Program – a program that only a handful of students and those who belong to it know about – is one of Menlo Atherton’s many systems to fight against “Food Insecurity.” For those who didn’t come to face the phrase “Food Insecurity” after the canned food drive, being “Food Insecure” means that you do not know when or what your next meal will be.

But, as mentioned before, most people do not even know this program even exists. When asked about the program, M-A student, Clark Moore, stated “I did not know that.” So, in an attempt to learn as much as I could about the Food Subsidies Program,

I went to Student Services Specialist, Miki Cristerna.

“I put out the same fruit that the program offers... and yet only my fruit gets eaten.”

Even outside the whole application process, smaller problems seem to appear within the program. The food distributors occasionally run out of food altogether, leaving these students without their obligated meal. Presentation of the food has also come under question. “I put out the same fruit that the program offers,” says Miki, “and yet only my fruit gets eaten. Lacking a plastic packaging and a distasteful look really makes a difference.”

Upon being warmly greeted by Ms. Cristerna, or “Miki” as she soon corrected me, But this program is not about statistics or we sat down in her office surrounded by students socializing and eating lunch together. She began school funding, it is about the students and their informing me about the program, stating that it was health. So, I while I sat in Miki’s room obtaining an application process that was based on a family’s information, I got some the student’s perspectives. income. The income, depending on how much made “It isn’t awkward because everyone I know is per year, will get you one of two things: a reduced price part of the program,” says a student sitting in the on meals or two free meals (*If more interested on office. And this point of view remains constant the incomes, check the “Food Service Press Release” amongst many of the other office. Miki told me, that can be found on the Sequoia Union High School “It really seems to be a stigma from the adults that District website). The reduced price meals consist of the students feel embarrassed by the program.” a $.30 breakfast and a $.40 lunch. On the other hand, So now it was my turn. I figured I mind as well when part of the free meal program, a student can get a feel for the application process by trying to fill pick two of three meals: breakfast, brunch, or lunch. out a form myself. I went on the internet to print off

Outside of getting free or reduced food, other an application (but they can also be found at any of the benefits can be given to the program’s students. “Speedway” food stands) and as soon as I stared at it, For example, if a student holds onto the letter I was lost. The page is filled with minuscule boxes that they receive in the mail pertaining to the Food Subsidies Program they may also receive a “Everyone I know is part of the program” free bus pass. The school also receives more funding due to this extremely beneficial program.

But there are setbacks.

This program still requires an application – meaning there is still the possibility of being denied; and according to Miki, there are multiple ways to be denied.

First off, the application resembles a cryptic, geometric explosion of fill-in boxes and miniscule words. “It is a complicated form to fill out,” mentions Miki, “and having a few wrong boxes can have an application denied.”

Also, the form requires a social security number. The form does not say “if you do not have one, simply write ‘none’” so most newly immigrated families will leave it blank. And obviously, if the family’s income exceeds the designated ranges, the application will be denied.

both harm and confuse the mind. And not only was that overwhelming, but knowing that this form could be denied if I forgot one piece put me under more pressure.

I didn’t finish it. I had no idea what I was doing.

Despite popular belief, the Food Subsidies Program tremendously affects a substantial fraction of the Menlo-Atherton student body. Although there may be slight flaws and hiccups, it single handedly keeps teenagers from food insecurity.

PHOTOGRAPHY Laurin Noguchi

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by Stephanie Sabatini

PO PO FAH- SHO!

by Jeff LaPlante and Anna Luke

With license in hand, and pedal to the metal, you speed across Santa Cruz Avenue to pick up your friend. As your friend walks in, knowing very well that you have only had your license for a couple of weeks, you speed off to the movies. Well you don’t want to miss the previews… A cop drives by, and notices that you are breaking the law. Sirens go off with a flash of red and blue light and you are left with no choice but to pull over. As the cop approaches your car, you hand over your flimsy paper license you got at the DMV. Was leaving the fate of your future driving privileges in the hands of a court judge really worth driving your friend? (Since January 1st, 2006, California State law declares that a parent, guardian or a licensed passenger over the age of 25, must accompany drivers under the age of 18 who are transporting persons under the age of 20. Driving has also become prohibited between the hours of 11:00 PM and 5:00 Since this law has been put into AM for the first place, it has become apparent that year of driving very few teenagers actually follow this rule. When asked with your about the topic, junior Camilla Visconti said, “I don’t follow license.) it because I trust myself enough to know that if I am bringing other people in my car, it is my responsibility if they get hurt”.

Though this may be clear to her, is it clear to her passengers?

As stated in the DMV website, statistics show that the crash rate for 16-year-old drivers is 3.7 times higher than drivers of all other ages. When teenagers drive with their friends, the likelihood increases that the underage driver will take risks in order to impress their friends. Lots Student who got caught sneaking out of students find the changed law with people in his car past curfew: unfair, and do not agree with the increasing strict attitude towards students. They feel the laws are unjust, and refuse to see the potential consequences.

Claire Jungleib, a follower of the law, says “It’s just not worth it to me. I mean I live so far away, that I would hate to have to rely on my parents for rides.”

The responsibility is on the driver, and the people who are being driven. The driver has to know that they are in charge of other peoples’ lives and therefore should make smart decisions when driving. The people who are being driven by an underage driver should analyze the driver and make a decision based on if they trust that driver’s judgment. In retrospect, we understand that the laws were put in place to protect young, inexperienced drivers.

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-A

M

“

Can you not mention we were sneaking out to go skinny dipping?

”

Tip: When asked for his/her political views, the hipster will violently defend anything John Stewart said on TV last night.

The God-Awful Haircut “It shows how much I don’t care.” (costs more than the sweater)

The Ugly Sweater Loves talking about how no one shops at thrift stores nowadays. ($60 at American Eagle)

PBR Beer It has a “unique” taste. (new flavor: back alley puddle)

The Black Jeggings (illegal in the Midwest)

TIP: To tell the difference between a hipster and a homeless man, offer him a warm jacket. If he refuses it because its not from Urban Outfitters, he’s a hipster.

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The Non-Perscription Glasses Expresses intellectuality

The Messenger Bag What’s in it: • moleskine notebook • fingerless gloves • vinyl records • trust fund checks • more useless junk

A hipster is never seen without his/her iPod What’s on it: • I’m from Barcelona • Clap Your Hands Say Yeah • Animal Collective • Pains of Being Pure at Heart What they actually listen to: • Katy Perry • U2 • Coldplay

Tip: Hipsters love things that are ironic, like the fact that they don’t know what irony is.

The Retro Headphones “I’m an audiophile” (approximate sound quality of apple earbuds)

The Bangs 24/7

The Fixed Gear Bike Made in Holland (Holland, China)

That Stupid Mustache It’s ironic (it’s stupid) The Bottlecap Necklace Folk art is underrated (as is the efficiency of child labor)

The Scarf “I’m cold.” (it’s July)

The Polaroid Camera An artist always keeps her tools on hand (it’s empty)

His Sister’s Jean Shorts (dear god)

The Japanese Symbol for Love (Elvish for idiot) The Keds (nuff said)

philip witham

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: n i a r B y M t e They Won’t G

by Sam Sexton

The M-A Zombie Plan

Brought to you by Costco

There’s only one thing I can say I’ve learned during my time at M-A: in the event of an emergency, nobody will survive. Our fire alarm is pulled so often that in the event of an actual fire, the fire department will probably buy some kerosene to add to the blaze. Students are to walk through the F-Wing courtyard in the event of a fire, despite the copious amounts of dry, flammable foliage. And what’s with this “hide and be quiet” approach during lockdown drills?

We can take on gunmen; we all saw the two self defense videos in PE! I want a hero parade! But worst of all, our school’s drill policy is so broken that we don’t even have a drill for the most horrifying disaster of all. Zombies. The Walking Dead. Twihards. Whatever you call them, it is inevitable that these brain-hungry fiends will one day rise from the grave to devour our flesh. It’s probably been proven by science and sh*t. So how can the faculty ignore the growing threat of the Zombie menace? Fortunately, as an expert in Zombology with an unhealthy need for attention, I have a plan for our school if such an unfortunate event were to occur. This drill will differ from others in that it divides the school into five groups (2000 people attract a lot of zombies) and that each group will be trying different tactics for survival, as I can’t be sure which ones will work.

Teachers: Hole up in the PAC and defend against the zombie siege This part of the plan is vital in that it is yet another use of the school’s fantastic Performing Arts Center, which already brings in literally tens of dollars every year from plays. When the zombie alarm is pulled, teachers will file into the PAC, doing everything they can to attract the zombie horde’s attention to make the siege more dramatic. And for those who claim this is “reckless”, “suicide” or “a huge over-reaction to that D- you got on that test that one time,” they’ll be fine.

For $30,000,000, I’m assuming the PAC has defense turrets or battle-droids or something.

Freshmen: Take to the trees and prosper This is the most long-term of the plans; it will guarantee the survival of the living in the event that the dead overrun Earth. Because zombies lack the ability to climb, all freshmen will climb any tree greater than seven feet in height. Even the pro-basketball level zombies will never be able to reach them. Living off of the fruit and wildlife present in trees, the Freshmen will eke out an existence similar to a lemur or ewok. Eventually they will evolve. As evolution takes several million years, it is imperative that the Freshmen (eventually Treelings) must remain in their trees even if the apocalypse seems to have ended.

Sophomores: Trek to Yosemite to fight bears Zombies aren’t known for their intelligence. A zombie will walk off a cliff, into helicopter blades, or even near Jay Leno if it sees a human adjacent to these obstacles. So what better a place to hide than Yosemite, famed for its rugged, mountainous terrain? The journey will be the roughest part of this part of the plan; 500 Sophomores running and biking (no, you can’t drive because the world ended; we’re not criminals) across miles of zombie-infested terrain is no easy feat. But once they reach the park, safety is guaranteed. All they need to do is kill all zombies in the area, find the paths to high ground, find a way to cut Yosemite off from the outside world, defend against bear attacks, figure out which plants are safe to eat, adjust to altitude sickness, survive notoriously cold winters, and they’re all good to go.

Juniors: Steal a boat and live a life of safety/scurvy We’re fortunate in that we live a scant few miles from the coast. Why shouldn’t we use this to our advantage? The Juniors will travel to their local harbor and steal as many ships as pmktossible. Operating them shouldn’t be a problem-several ships have sails for when the motor runs out, and if Captain Jack “perpetually drunk and charmingly unintelligible” Sparrow can operate a sailboat, they can-

PHOTOGRAPHY Laurin Noguchi, Mao Mei Sonkin

and all they’ll have to do is to sail a few hundred miles into open ocean until they find an island. Those of the fleet who haven’t died of scurvy or been eaten by sea monsters will land and single-handedly kill the island’s probably-zombified population, which can’t be more than a couple thousand people.

Seniors: Take over Costco and stare oblivion in the face Costco is the perfect store whether a zombie apocalypse is upon us or not, and I’m not just saying that because I’m paid fifty cents every time I mention Costco. Costco-bound Seniors will all head to Costco because Costco has absolutely everything one needs in the event that one needs to take shelter in a Costco when zombies have overrun everything except the Costco. Costco’s cafeteria and inventory can provide food, the Costco pharmacy has medicine, and the Costco doors can seal Costco off to zombies. Costco warehouses lack windows, so zombies can’t peer into the Costco and say “Hey! There are people in the Costco! Let’s enter the Costco to devour their flesh and marvel at Costco’s generous prices!” Sheltering in Costco has no downsides. Costco even has lots of Costco-approved merchandise Seniors can carry to the Costco roof and throw at zombies surrounding the Costco, thus providing a distraction and forever solving the problem of running out of food in a few years and rapidly dying by starvation or mass suicide.

And for those who point out that the teacher’s residency in the PAC deprives students of leadership, don’t worry. In addition to the machetes, grenades, and automatic weapons everyone will receive when the apocalypse begins, each group of students will be given a conch which grants privileges of speech and leadership to its owner. With that, I implore the administration to adopt the Sexton Procedure as M-A’s official zombie plan. I can guarantee that my plan of evolution in trees, survival against the cold and bears, doomed voyages across hundreds of miles of ocean, and slowly waiting for death in a monument to commercialism will ensure that no students die because of the undead, which I believe makes this easily the best, most well organized drill in M-A history. Also, Costco owes me $11.00.

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S all y

by Henry Mouat

“What do you mean ‘you have to go now’?” Tom growled.

Mayhew shrugged and looked away; he didn’t like it when Tom got mad at anyone—he especially didn’t like it when Tom was mad at him.

“You always leave early! And we have to keep playing with unequal teams! It’s not fair!” His face burned like an ugly welt.

Looking away from him, Mayhew said softly, “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m really sorry. I can’t stay. I just have to go now, OK?” Of course it wasn’t OK, not when Tom was angry. Mayhew looked at the other boys; he could tell they were disappointed too, but they didn’t need to show it when Tom was mad.

With nothing left to say, Mayhew started walking away, keeping his eyes averted from the other boys. Tom yelled something after him. He pretended not to hear. * * * There was a faded green Volvo parked neatly against the curb outside Mayhew’s house. He winced slightly when he saw it there.

Mom’s working at home today, he thought.

Rain drizzled down onto the grey street. He had no choice now but to go in. His hair would be wet in moments; his white school uniform would be soaked; and his tie—no, his mother could not catch him with his tie wet, no. Reluctantly, he pushed himself down the brick walkway leading to his front door.

His mother didn’t hear him open the door; he crept across the mat, not bothering to take off his shoes. He heard her talking on the phone across the house; gingerly he tiptoed across the hall and snuck into his bedroom.

Inside, he finally let his backpack slide to the floor. Plopped on his bed, waiting for him as always, in a sweet pink raincoat and black rubber boots, there was a girl. Her hair was a deep blue gray, like a stone at the bottom of a lake; he knew that it was blonde beneath the dye, but she liked changing it from time to time, the way she would change clothes on a Barbie doll. She was half-interestedly trying to read the Romeo and Juliet book Mayhew’s father had given him on his birthday, but he knew she understood as little of it as he did.

“Hi Sally,” he said, giving a shy smile. She tossed the book away and grinned at him, showing her missing lower tooth.

“I know just where to go today,” she said, her grin growing wider.

His smile faltered for a moment. “Go? We can’t go, it’s raining out…” But he looked at her and had to grin himself.

“Don’t be a baby; you got a coat! Now let’s go down the hill and explore the creek! I hear there are hundreds of frogs out when it rains! Let’s find one!” she said.

He didn’t know how true her frog tale was or if he believed her, but she was already opening his bedroom window with her delicate, thin fingers. He didn’t know how to deny her ideas, and he never cared to anyway. By the time he had fastened his raincoat, she was already standing on the roof outside his window, overhanging the veranda. She was impatient, but he knew she wouldn’t leave him.

Taking careful jumps onto the grass below, they crept into the trees behind the house. From there they began the trek down the hillside.

“Did anyone see you come in?” asked Mayhew, his mind still on his mother.

Sally’s eyes flashed onto him, but she said nothing. * * * Sally waited for him every day after school when Mayhew got home; she was usually outside on the veranda, but sometimes she snuck into his room instead. She stayed as long as he had time; she never left him before he did.

Sally always had a place for them to go, to explore or to talk or to sit quietly together and do nothing at all. She could be feisty and impetuous, but she never cheated, never yelled, never did anything to hurt Mayhew’s feelings. She would listen to him practice his violin, and she wouldn’t laugh when he stumbled on the strings.

One afternoon, they were sitting on his bedroom floor being quiet together. Her hair was now a striking strawberry hue. Unexpectedly, Mayhew asked, “Sally? Why are you my friend?”

She looked at him as if he were crazy. “Because you are you, of course! Why else should I be with you?”

“But why aren’t you friends with any of the others? Why don’t you ever let them see you?”’

She shook her head in disgust. “I’m here to be your friend, May. You’re the only one I wanna talk to.”

This warmed Mayhew deep inside, but he tried not to let it show. To his dismay, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, coming towards his room. He glanced momentarily at Sally and walked to the door and opened it to find his father.

“Just checking in on you, May,” his father said. “What have you been doing up here for so long? Do you have a friend over?” He tried looking over Mayhew’s shoulder into the room, but he saw no one.

Without meeting his eyes, Mayhew whispered, “Nobody. No one’s here with me.”

His father nodded and mentioned coming downstairs for lunch. Mayhew told him just one moment, then shut the door. For a little 18while, he simply looked back into his empty room.

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B E C A U S E I

F E E L

This one time I went to the mall and ate a piece of grapefruit, but it was too sour so I bought a pickle knife to tone down the weird amber patches of mud that sat in front of the step stool. I opened my eyes wide and whispered, “I

have

that

same

shirt,”

but it was too late, he had gone already.

I picked up a phone and began to dial the number. A loud ring told me that I had not put in the twenty-five cents that I was supposed to before dialing. I was upset and surprised. I sat on the floor and juggled for a while but that did not do the trick so I got up and walked to the grocery store.

At the store I skipped over to a mint leaf and watched a passing dog. Its tail was high up in the air but it didn’t matter because I felt like going swimming, so I did.

It was romantic. Nothing could stop the wall from pushing through the water; and I went to buy a balloon. The only thing was that, in the attic, there was still a heavy layer of dust that sat and lingered.

It made me sneeze uncontrollably until I fell on my knees and prayed.

I

pra yed 20

for a lot of things that day, especially because I had taken the top of a Hershey’s bar and put it in a box of Dots. It was not a good day, but I smiled and

painted a rainbow with chalk.

My dear Aunt Penelope wished that the stars were round but they turned out triangle shaped when we made cookies. I wonder why we did not stroll to the pond, but we did not.

When I ran into him again, it was night, and the little pieces of grass were straight and did not bend over. They stood alert and heard the loud sirens that were strange and far away. And as he ate chocolate mud pie, he saw that it was not a trap. He just walked over to the countertop and asked for

three more shots.

It was sad to see him sitting there, whining about the irregular clouds and the candy jolly ranchers floating in his mind. We went and ate carrot stew to stop the dread and sadness from seeping in. I sang at the top of my lungs and decided that it was no longer time to radiate like a sun, but that I should instead progress forward and look up at the trees with fat trunks.

Swimming did not please me, so I jogged until a wild old man came hopping toward me. But the pictures on the wall were not too bright, they just glimmered and wondered how all this came to be. It is not for me, you see. Only a catastrophe of butterflies.

SHORT STORY Caroline Bucksbaum

PHOTOGRAPHY Emily Johnson

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y r st

i m he

C

T

he majority of students attending Menlo Atherton are required to attend at least one lab science class during their four years. These students have undoubtedly encountered monotonous safety procedures, lab instructions, and reiteration of appropriate equipment handling. The frightening thing about these lab classes however, is that this seemingly endless array of pedantic rules and regulations isn’t just due to some pointless California education code requirement.

When asked about any accidents that have occurred here at M-A, Chemistry teacher Mrs. Caryotakis commented saying, “Any science mishaps that have occurred are usually caused by students not paying attention or not thinking,” Most students would be inclined to agree. After being asked about mishaps in the classroom Mrs. Caryotakis responded, “Beakers and test tubes always seem to be proving that gravity exists, and things that don’t look hot can still burn your skin.”

After never having a major accident

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Acci den t s and Mish aps

by Blair Johnson

occur here at M-A, the question must be

asked, do the students, and even some teachers,

really take these safety precautions seriously anymore?” I recall my sophomore year: Mrs. Narcesian assisting my friends and I to roll a tennis ball in copper chloride, light it on fire, and proceed to play indoor table tennis.

While this was all in good fun, it could hardly be called safe. Yet not one person seemed concerned by this fact in the least. Furthermore, Mrs. Narcesian’s chemistry classroom is not equipped with a fume hood., a device that limits exposure to harmful or toxic chemicals to students. While it is common knowledge that Mrs. Narcesian lacks this vital piece of her classroom, one has yet to be installed.

The issue of Lab safety has become bigger as classes become more packed in the Sequoia Union High School District.

“As class sizes have gotten larger over the past few years, it is even more challenging to monitor safety” Says Caryotakis, and although no serious injuries have been reported at M-A as a result of classroom accidents, it might only be a matter of time.

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PHOTOGRAPHY Prescott Foland 25

M-A The

What’s the point of having a theatre program at M-A? Ms. Zwicker-Sobrepena, M-A’s new drama teacher this year, explains that the drama department offers an important source of “creative expression” and a “good use of free time.” She continues, “the TV and internet can never replace this.” According to many participants, drama is not only a fun way to spend time, but a great way to gain a family of friends.

Claire Jungleib, a junior, says “I absolutely love being a part of the M-A Drama Family. And that’s just what it is. You make such amazing friends in drama. Some of my best friends came out of doing Rimers of Eldritch sophomore year and I have countless others from Forum and Pride and Prejudice. The dynamic of drama is wonderful; you are thrown together in high pressure situations for 10-25 hours a week for three months, and you come out of that so tightly-knit as a cast. I know that if I went through that anywhere else, we would probably wind up biting each other’s heads off. I love our traditions in the department. We dance to the song “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet before every performance, shout ridiculous tonguetwisters, take part in the matinee prank show, and pump our selves up by singing along to musical soundtracks in the dressing rooms.” She has been in 21 total productions, three of which have been at M-A. “Drama at M-A means so much to me. I couldn’t live without the friends I’ve made. I think I’d even miss all the stress and tension of rehearsal because in the end, venting about it to other cast members is quite a bonding topic.”

Maddie Napel, a sophomore, says M-A drama is “Profound. An enlightening spiritual experience with guided meditation courtesy of Michael Farzi.

Fun with impromptu musical sing-a-longs and lollipops.” She has been in three plays at M-A. But what theatre at M-A really means to her is “having a family. My castmates are the brothers and sisters that I don’t have at home. Ali Candlin is my second mom.”

Michael Farzi, a senior, says “M-A drama is an extraordinary opportunity for high school students interested in continuing or starting acting as a hobby.” He has been in five productions at M-A, including the upcoming musical which “gives me great hope for future success in the department.”

M-A theatre has allowed him to “better understand [him]self by being able to “be” other people through taking on a character.”

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Kelly Davis, also a junior, agrees that M-A Drama is “A lot of great, talented people with a mixture of different personalities all looking to have a good time and to entertain - whether they are entertaining an audience, or each other. I have faith in the people to make the department successful.” M-A drama means a lot to Kelly, as it is “something to look forward to after school - the creativity gives me a break. During my first musical in 6th grade I met great people and, as I continued through middle school, I learned to love the cast as I would a very close family. The reason why I want to make the department at M-A better is not only because I want theater kids to have a good experience and enjoy the resources offered, but so that they can find somewhere where they hopefully feel comfortable and safe among a close group of fun people. That’s what drama is for me.”

espians

by Alyssa Westfield

Students who have graduated from M-A and moved on to college still maintain positive feelings for M-A Drama.

Claire Usherson, now attending NYU, enjoyed participating in M-A drama. “Forum was the last show I did before I left for college, so it’s the freshest in my mind, and I can honestly say I savored every moment.

From the audition to the cast party, I loved every minute and wouldn’t exchange it for anything. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

I loved going to rehearsal every day, and yes, I loved tech week too.

Everything I ever did with M-A drama, every show, every mosaic day, every banquet, every garden day, was some of the best times I had in high school.” She participated in many plays outside of M-A, but her participation in Bye Bye Birdie and Forum at M-A “were two of the most enjoyable experiences I have ever had in a show. To me, M-A drama is the little engine that could. It’s such a tight knit community, and everyone wants so much to succeed that we just keep going. We’ve faced our obstacles, but every time, the end product is so much more fabulous than we could have ever imagined, and it makes all the work along the way so much more worth it. What I love about M-A drama is that we all have this indescribable passion and love what we are doing so much, we wouldn’t be there if we didn’t. It’s a family.”

Zachary Clarence, now attending BU for theatre, describes “M-A drama as a drama program whose roots reside within the students themselves.

What makes M-A drama special are the kids who manage to defy all odds and still put shows on the stage.” He was in four plays at M-A, though his significant drama contribution was in founding the drama club. “I formed the drama club my junior year in high school and continued it throughout my senior year. In my senior year, as a club we collaborated on a film which we wrote, produced, directed, and acted in entitled, “Romia and Juliet.” This was my first movie and motivated me to want to do more. My amigos in the drama department continue to astound me on how well we can collaborate together and create more art.”

If you have any interest in the program, Maddie says “AUDITION. DO IT. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. No, seriously. Come. You can be absolutely anyone, and you will find a family in C-16. We’re a little crazy, but that’s fun, right?” Kelly would like you to know that “we kick ass.”

Or support your fellow students in the spring musical, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Performance dates are March 18th-19th and 24-26th, 2010. Maddie enthuses, “It is going fantastic. I mean, Matt Schertler as a certain cape-wearing someone named Leaf? How perfect is that!”

Though this group may get a minimal number of pages in the yearbook (two, shared with music, which is less than the number dedicated solely to “sports memories”) and there are often cries of “the expensive PAC that no one uses,” this group contains many bright and eager individuals. M-A’s thespians are proud to be part of “M-A drama, the little engine that could.”

PHOTOGRAPHY Sandy Napel

27

Moving to Menlo Park?

By Gabrielle Busque

Mark Zuckerberg

(Creator of Facebook)

porting the title of the “top social network”, Facebook has grown into a tremendous company that can barely fit into its own office. Having stayed in the same location for most of its existence, Facebook plans to move into a bigger building to accommodate its needs as a company. Even before moving into 1601 S. California Ave, Facebook had practically outgrown the 150,000 square foot space. Facebook was obligated to sublease additional space at 1050 Page Mill Road two years ago as well. The move is long overdue.

S

needs in terms of everyday commute and fit the space requirements perfectly. Assessed at $228.4 million, the office could be sold to Facebook in a leaseback deal at the market price of about $420 million, according to TechCrunch.

The company is looking for no less than 1 million square feet of office space – bigger than seventeen football fields. One location Facebook is looking at is the Sun Microsystems and Oracle campus on Willow Road in East Menlo Park. 1,024,090 square feet and only six miles up the road from their current location, the building would accommodate the employees’

The move would most likely occur in June of 2011.

However, while many citizens are excited about the move, it has caused controversy.

Residents also worry about potential excess traffic. Some say that they do not want Menlo Park to become a commercial area and that this move could ruin the suburban vibe that the city has obtained and its citizens appreciate.

While the move is not a done deal, if it were to occur, it may be the ticket to revitalizing Menlo Park’s East Side/Belle Haven neighborhood.

With a multibillion-dollar company in its own community, Menlo Park’s east side would be reanimated with potential and promise.

PHOTOGRAPHY Mao Mei Sonkin & Creative Commons

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by Prescott Foland

An overwhelming attraction to Canadian born pop-star Justin Bieber, more commonly known as Bieber Fever has run rampant across the world over the past year. Since the birth of “The fever,” oil wells have broken and Chilean mines have collapsed. Are these events the result of a New World Order? This reporter can only speculate.

Bieber’s song “One Time”, released in November of 2010 documented his infiltration of Usher’s home compound and throwing a drug-fuelled party in which the majority of the attendants were no older than 13. When famous pop-star Usher was asked about the incident, he simply responded with “yeah, it was pretty cool.” Within a number of weeks, the video reached #1 worldwide, and Bieber was signed to a multiple album record deal.

With his newfound fame, it became obvious that Justin Bieber was becoming a necessary political asset for the United States. He visited the White House under the pretence of performing, but was later pulled into a back room meeting in which President Obama requested that the two “work together.”

Two weeks after this meeting, BP’s oil well erupted in the Gulf of Mexico. President Obama had recently been pushing for the banning of offshore drilling, but was seeing no luck with Congress. His only option, was to ask for the help of a gifted young man with an extraordinary ability.

Bieber, who was born in a log shack next to a Canadian nuclear dumping site, has shown signs of being somewhat different since birth. He had the ability to move things with his mind, a talent also known as telekinesis. With age, his abilities grew and became more powerful, until July of 2009 when he persuaded a young record executive named Usher to sign him to Island Records. He also agreed to be paid in solid, gold bricks.

Is it possible that Bieber has used his supernormal abilities to warp the world to his liking? It is one of the only valid explanations for what’s been going on in our world lately.

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30

Be My Valentine

by Sasha Bobrowicz

F

rom fat babies with wings shooting people with mysterious love arrows, to imprisoned Roman priests sending love letters to women they have magically cured of blindness, Valentine’s Day is certainly one of our more fictionalized holidays. Every year, Americans spend thousands of dollars on chocolate roses, strangely flavored candy hearts, and bouquets of roses, all in the hopes of proclaiming one’s love to another. Those unfortunate few who do not receive a cheesy card are usually left feeling lonely and pathetic and for what reason? Where does all this hype come from? The more cynical members of society argue Hallmark needed a holiday to make money between Christmas and Easter, hence the obsession with Valentine’s Day. Those who believe in the “Hallmark Holiday” do have a legitimate argument.

Approximately 141 million Valentine’s Day cards are exchanged “industry wide”, while the NECCO conversation heart company produces about 8 billion Sweethearts for the magical day, and 198 million roses were grown specifically for the holiday last year alone.

The enormous amount of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia being consumed annually supports the claims of skeptics worldwide.

However, the few remaining romantics left in the world believe in the theory that a priest by the name of Valentine was sentenced to death for leading an underground Christian movement. Right before his execution, Valentine supposedly sent a letter to a woman he cured of blindness signing it “From Your Valentine”, giving birth to the tradition that has lasted a life time. Despite you’re beliefs, Valentine’s Day is, if nothing else, an excellent opportunity to sit around and indulge your inner sweet tooth with a delicious bar of chocolate. To compliment that chocolate eating, here are some bittersweet love stories and phrases.

“One year my really good friend’s boyfriend set up a whole scavenger hunt of people for her. She went from person to person, getting a clue each time, until she found him and he asked her to be his girlfriend. It was really cute and super sweet!”Payton Bush, 11th grade

“In the sixth grade I planned an extra special Valentine’s Day surprise for my boyfriend of one month. I came to school early, leaving him a stuffed animal on his desk. When I went into music the next period, there was a stuffed hippopotamus sitting on my desk from him!”-Claire Jungleib, 11th grade

“Every year my friends and I hang out in downtown Palo Alto, eating yummy food and people watching. It was a one time thing that has turned into a tradition”-Laurin Noguchi, 12th grade

“Sophomore year I recieved six roses from a secret admirer. It was adorable, but I still don’t know who he is!”-Anonymous

“If you do kiss a politician, remember this: you are not only kissing him, you are kissing every butt that he has kissed in the last eight years”-Jay Leno

“Get married early in the morning, that way if it doesn’t work out, you won’t have wasted a whole day”-Mickey Rooney

31 ART Amy Kim

A Modern Storm Lightning, some ways beyond the clouds Crashed and illuminated A world, reaching back to a distant age.

“Electron paths; atmospheric discharge” flashed through the travelers mind But scientific purity fell short: Those Zeusian bolts stood for more.

“Who can blame them?” he thought – Those ancient peoples, imagining warring Gods and vengeful wrath— Still, today, their insights and concoctions hold When equations leave essence wanting.

The plane banked, moving the storm from view And his gaze shifted instead to the lights below.

Racing cars, house lights, small flashes from the wingtip Within each bulb, sparks flew and cracked

A thousand tiny lightning storms A thousand Creators of a thousand tiny universes Each apart, but moving together or in between And moved by something still unknown.

POETRYEvan Weiner

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ART Sofia Gutierrez-Dewar 33

THE PAIN they think they know...

PHOTOGRAPHY Emily Johnson

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Death… a natural occurrence that is just as unavoidable as the pain that it brings. The ­­­­­­­­ feeling you get is just so unbearable; it feels like your whole world is collapsing on you. It’s just a whole lot of pressure on you. Not only are you feeling down because of what happened, but you also have to try to keep your family together and keep their heads held high through tough times. Especially if you lost someone in your family, these can be the toughest and most painful times in your life. It’s painful for everyone, even just the thought of losing someone, whether it’s a friend, family member, or just someone you knew.

This past winter break I lost someone very dear to my family and me, my grandmother. She was the one that was always there for me when I was younger. Whenever I was sad, she was the one that would cheer me up. She was the one that would always put a smile on my face when she gave me candy, money, or anything that I needed. She was like my second mother, when my mom wasn’t there, she was, no matter what. It was very hard because she had passed right before finals were about to start. This added a whole lot of pressure on my shoulders.

I know that most people would have just stayed at home and not even have come to school.

But I came to school, because I know that my education was very important to her. It was very hard for me to get through the finals week with

all of this on my mind. I came in right before finals were about to start and told my teachers what had happened, that I might end up missing a couple of days. It may seem easy to go up to someone you have just met not too long ago and tell them that you have lost somebody. It’s not so much painful just to tell that person, but to actually say those words out loud makes it really hard to get over - get over the fact that your loved one is no longer there for you. Not only that, but I was the one that had to break it to all of my nieces and nephews what had happened. This had made me feel terrible on the inside just knowing that not only did I have to share the news with them, but I was also the one that had to break it to my “lil youngstahs­­­,” my siblings. This just devastated me, knowing that the “queen of my family”, my grandmother, had passed away. But the main thing that really just killed me was to see my father cry. It really hurt me because my father is my role model. To see him cry, knowing that I feel the same pain, just kills me inside. ­­­­­­­­­­

This feeling is something no one wants to feel.

It’s just really hard to get through life knowing that someone who was around for you all the time is now gone. To lose someone like that, who just means so much to you, leaves your heart broken. But the thing to remember is that they’re always watching from above, just waiting to be reunited with you.

by Tevita Langi 35

In the high school social hierarchy, they are at the bottom, somewhere slightly below freshmen. They are the phytoplankton at the base of the food chain, with Mr. Zito the carnivorous predator on top; the multi-cellular bottom feeders that are essential to the ecological system that is M-A, even if, like phytoplankton, we feel they are deserving of little of our oh-so-precious attention.

By any standards, substitute teachers generally aren’t treated all that well. You’d think we’d be able to tolerate their eccentricities for the short amount of time they’re given hypothetical control of the classroom. However, there are those attention-seeking, loud students who figure, hey, this person is only going to exist in my life for about an hour, might as well give him or her hell and then my fellow classmates will admire me for my inability to shut up. Also, if you think about it, subs have less than an hour to gain respect from a class. It can take some regular teachers more than a week or so to attain the respect and attention of their students, assuming they ever do.

We need subs. That is a fact. We cannot just cancel a class if a teacher unexpectedly develops folliculitis, an occurrence that is not necessarily disastrous in the eyes of the unfortunate teacher’s students. It seems that the typical response to an absent teacher and present sub is a holistic cheer from a class seeking a brief reprieve from the unchanging school activity. Students also take advantage of the opportunity to let loose with few consequences. Another fact (just for fun): subs are not out to get students.

There are many situations in which a student will do or say

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something inexcusable in the presence of a sub who will not report it to the teacher. The typical sub report: they were little angels (WARNING: potential exaggeration present).

Reality: they were little devils. There are some classes which are capable of maintaining silence and accepting the inevitable busy work with minimal complaints, and if all the sub does is put in a movie, there is little potential for chaos; however, subs generally receive boatloads of disrespect and abuse that they certainly do not deserve.

Generally, subs can be classified into one of four different categories. There are Type 1 subs that really don’t care what the students are doing as long as it isn’t destructive or harmful, permanently anyway. They put in a movie or pass out some busy work, drop into the nearest chair, and proceed to check their e-mail, play Tetris, sleep, etc.

Next, there are Type 2 subs who seemingly got lost on the way to the correctional facility/insane asylum and probably shouldn’t be trusted around rational minded humans. These are the ones who metaphorically (or with fire) burn the list of activities the teacher left for the students to do and follow their own schedules. Thankfully, this variety of sub is rare at M-A. Militaristic, dictator subs also fall under this category. They treat the class as though it is a specialized military unit and attempt to maintain silence and order, typically failing miserably.

We have all experienced this type of sub, and this is where the majority of sub generalizations and stereotypes stem from. However, the vast majority of subs are average peo-

ART Caitlin Kenney

ple who are simply looking for some extra work. Students enter a classroom containing a sub with the assumption that he or she will be a Type 2 and is therefore deserving of their collective enmity. However, for every Type 2 sub, there are two Type 4 subs (read on) who in no way deserve the mistreatment students feel entitled to give them.

Type 3 substitute teachers seem genuinely interested in the students and what the class is learning. Characterized by excessive friendliness, they walk around the classroom attempting to engage members of the class in conversation and make sure to tell their life stories in more detail than anyone really cares to listen to. If this type of sub is teaching a language class, he or she will attempt to speak the language, regardless of whether he/she is actually familiar with it or not.

Lastly, there are Type 4 subs who sub because they legitimately love to teach. Take Ms. Trammel, a regular substitute at M-A. She has been subbing for seven years and before that, she was a teacher at Sacred Heart Prep School for almost 40 years. She taught a wide range of subjects, from biology to music, getting the interdisciplinary foundation from Stanford, where she received her education.

She subs because she “want[s] to help kids,” and is a polite and highly intelligent person who is indisputably deserving of our respect, regardless of how little we know her.

Mr. Flanagan is also an example of someone who enjoys teaching the given material, and is not there to just “babysit”. Before becoming a substitute teacher, he was a college

professor, a U.S. Naval officer, and the executive of High Tech Silicon Valley. What Mr. Flanagan least enjoys about teaching is the discipline, and the “ ‘smart asses’ who don’t have any respect for the sub [or] the rest of the class.” He believes he has “an obligation to ensure a good learning environment” and live up to the qualifications of teacher.

Mr. Tallai, also known as Mr. T., is a frequent substitute at M-A. You may know him as the man with a Hungarian accent, a bashful smile, and a desire to share his life stories with the world. If you were to look past his expressive eyebrows, to the whiteboard behind him, you would be sure to notice his e-mail written out, in case a student is eager to contact him with further questions (such as “Why do you sound like Borat?”). After he was asked why he decided to become a substitute teacher, he recounted his near death experience in a car crash, describing the sudden epiphany he had while his truck was flipped upside-down after crashing into a tree. He believed that he “saw the light” but soon realized it was just the white airbag smashed into his face. At that moment, he remembered when his mother once told him “knowledge shared is important”, concluding he wanted to be a teacher and bestow some of his vast array of knowledge and experience on young people.

Whether a sub is a type 1, 2, 3, or 4, he or she is still a sentient being whose feelings students should respect. News flash: if you look past the hooves and excessive hair, substitutes are people just like you and me! *collective gasp* Who knows, maybe one day you might be a sub, ensuring that the high school circle of life continues to circle.

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PAC Seats for Sale?

by Bridget Magaña & Anna Argente

The Prices for Seats are:

Founder’s Circle $2,500 per seat limited to 50 seats.

Your name could be here!

Patrons $1,000

per seat limited to 100 seats.

Benefactors $500 per seat limited to 342 seats.

Interested?

Visit this site:

http://www.thecenteratma.org/

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PHOTOGRAPHY Keara Halde-

When you think about how you can leave your legacy at Menlo-Atherton, buying a seat may not be the first thing that comes to mind. Though this notion seems kind of cliché, for many graduating seniors making a lasting memory at high school is emotionally a bigger deal. Both students and family members alike have the ability to purchase a seat from the Performing Arts Center at M-A and can have a plaque placed on the seat with a name imprinted on it.

Two parents on the Foundation for the Future board set up this program, who wanted to think of a creative way to support the arts department, as well as help pay off the debt that was created for investing in the PAC itself. Why not let the money go towards the senior fund, or somewhere else that relates to leaving one’s legacy here at M-A? Principal Matthew Zito described that though the seat program doesn’t really support all students from his school, “there are other avenues that do.” Specifically, the money earned from this venture goes towards places such as: buying instruments, festival fees, and sheet music for our band, guitar, and choral programs; as well as paying for the drama department’s set materials and their choreographer’s fee.

Currently, there have been around 45-50 seats sold, including the one dedicated and given to Zito for being such a large part of the building’s development. Buying a seat from the PAC would both benefit your own school’s arts departments, while creating another outlet for students to make a name for themselves at M-A.

Back in the US(SR)

by Ryan Wentz

e

I

sat in my dorm, my brain skipping through a field of subjects. Thoughts of my next art history exam, the upcoming fourteen-mile hike, and our trip to Venice swirled about my mind. Then, I stopped.

I began to think about the good ol’ Menlo Park and what I missed about it, as I basked in my outdoors paradise.

moments, as the active M-A student body made statements, whether it be the lack of students present on 4/20, the tape wearers raising awareness for the LGBT community on the Day of Silence, and the supporters for Gunn High School when radical, Kansas churchgoers encouraged prejudice and made outlandish remarks.

This past semester, I spent three months in Zermatt, Switzerland, attending school, discovering a new culture, and hiking, skiing, or rock-climbing daily with a program called Swiss Semester. I learned a great deal about myself and my capabilities along with the world around me. We ice climbed 14,000foot peaks and biked more than 30 miles on the weekends, slept in ancient barns and handwrote 20 page art history papers. Life was pleasant but tough. I was in classes with some of the brightest fifteen year olds in our country, yet something was missing: the diversity and the undeniable energy that is M-A.

I fully encourage anyone who gets the opportunity to study abroad, but I realized the inevitable charm and energy that flows through M-A. I loved my time away from home, the exposure to new people, a new culture, and a new setting. Nevertheless, there is nothing like home. And there’s no better home than Menlo-Atherton.

Despite all of the fantastic adventures, I missed my old school and its wondrous tradition. My fellow classmates constantly chatted about their preppy, East coast private schools, those that enforced uniforms everyday and provided laptops for each student. On the other hand, I remembered the loose and relaxed rules of M-A and the West coast in general. I reflected on the classic traditions we have here at M-A. The times the 2,000-something student body all crammed into the Old Gym to show pride in the maroon and gold. The smooth rapping, the graceful dancing, and the harmonic singing at the rallies. I also recalled the impromptu

10 Things I Missed at M-A 1. Not waking up at 6:45 everyday, 8:40 on Thursdays (whaddup?)

2. Hall sweeps 3. The chaos of the parking lot 4. Basketball games 5. Rallies 6. Farmer’s Markets 7. Not being a freshman 8. Ms. Trent 9. False fire alarms 10. Not doing any school-related things in SSR

PHOTOGRAPHY Ryan Wentz 39

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41

SAT

That’s Not Water SATIRE & DRAWING Maria Ikonomou

“I don’t go at all. I hold it all day, or I go to the nurse.”

-Meredith Edwards

“Its disgusting.”

-Eisa Evans

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“I’ll hold it until lunch,” I think to myself. It is 12:30. Fourth period still has another twenty minutes left. I’ve been holding it for the past three periods, and now, now I just can’t hold it any longer. I grab the bathroom pass, and after my teacher’s nod, proceeded into the hall. I run to the nearest bathroom.

Sure, there are no locks on these stall doors, so you have to hold yours shut while you go, but it’s still the cleanest. I grab hold of the handle and pulled, or tried to pull, as the door stubbornly remained closed. I forgot that this one was locked during class time.

I run to the end of the E-wing, the big bathroom, although it rarely has soap, fixing your hair isn’t so easy when you have to use a mirror that has a shocking resemblance to the card you got for your fifth birthday, asking you who the birthday girl is, as you stare at your own distorted reflection in the tinfoil rectangle. But I digress, the door of this bathroom is also locked. I might pee my pants. I walk briskly to the Pride Hall bathroom, my last chance. The line is extending into the hallway. Well, at least its open.

After a very long time, the line moves far enough so that I gain the awesomely awkward task of holding the door open.

Awkward, because you can never quite tell whether your foot is the only one holding it open. Finally, one foot inside the actual bathroom. One foot, which is now covered in unidentified, brown, watery slush. Fantastic. I waited there for what seemed like days, rumors only scratch the surface of what girls get up to in these bathroom stalls. Whatever it is, it takes a long damn time. At last, it’s my turn!

I get the handicapped stall, which is awesome because the space between where the door frame meets the wall is big enough for those outside the stall to see in. I walk inside, setting my pass on the window sill so that it doesn’t become covered in whatever the hell is making my shoes slide. To make matters even better, the toilet seat is covered in urine, wonderful. That’s alright, because I can just cover it with a dozen toilet seat covers. But of course, the toilet seat cover dispenser is empty, so now I get to cover the seat with translucent toilet paper. I kick the handle down, retrieve my pass from its clever hiding spot, and leave the stall.

I now have to wash my hands. I pushed the tap button that leaves the ice-cold water running for a few seconds, just enough time for me to grab soap from the dispenser, if there were soap, that is. After rinsing my hands in the cold water, I disappointedly wait for the automatic hand-dryer to come on, well, automatically, but it seems it’s just for decoration.

Shaking my cold and dripping hands dry, I walk back to my fourth period class.

You’re Standing In

“I’ll hold it until lunch,” I think to myself. It is 12:30.

Fourth period still has another twenty minutes left. I’ve been holding it for the past three periods, and now, now I just can’t SATIRE Roger Upton hold it any longer. I grab the bathroom pass, and after my teacher’s nod, proceeded into the hall. I run to the nearest bathroom

I burst through the doors and into the bathroom and immediately stop in my tracks. I realize that the floor is absolutely drenched with water (I hope…)

I slosh my way to the stall because the urinals in the boy’s bathroom are exactly eight inches away from each other, which, in my humble opinion, is a slight invasion of my personal bubble. I try not to stand eight inches away from “I would never people when I am talking to them, much less peeing next to ever ever go them. Naturally, no one wants to stand shoulder to shoulder number two. Write with another guy in front of the urinal, so at busy times like that down. It would lunch and brunch, the bathroom gets crowded. be cleaner in my

So, out of the seven urinals which are crammed into pants than on the bathroom, only about three are used at a time. Thus I those toilets.” enter my stall; which does not lock, or even close all the -Alex Gow way because someone slammed the door so hard that the little sliding lock broke. I walk in and wonder who was kind enough to pee all over the seat and floor. I mean are the toilet bowls really too small? Should we invest in larger toilets for those with poor hand eye coordination? Perhaps they were just trying to make a statement by peeing everywhere, or they thought it would be funny. Because it seems that in their carelessness they seem to have created of brownish “Walls between puddle in the corner. I digress… urinals.”

I never check the stall for toilet paper, or toilet seat -Jordan covers because I will never sit on that seat. I tap the flush Scandlyn handle with my foot, because I can tell just by looking at that handle that it has multiple diseases. I exit the stall and go to wash my hands, which makes me hate going to the bathroom even more.

I approach the sink and tap the handle with my elbow (once again, protecting myself against germs.) The sink then shoots out frigid water for about two seconds and then turns off. I tap the water handle again and get some soap simultaneously; I force myself to keep my hands under the freezing water until I am finally done. I shake my hands off and don’t even bother trying to dry them with the “motion sensitive dryer” because I am far too exhausted to try and deal with any of the other appliances in this bathroom.

I push the door open with my foot and head back to class.

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Curbing Aggression:

T

by Michael Abramson

oday, fighting on the M-A campus is a rare spectacle. And while many students may lament the lack of entertainment, there is no doubt that M-A is a much calmer setting than it was only a few years ago. Many of these changes can be traced back to 2004, when Matthew Zito became the vice-principal at M-A, a title he held until taking over as principal in 2007.

“What I can say really clearly is that there was certainly a lot more fighting and aggressive behavior before I got here,” said Zito. “Verbal disputes, shoving matches, little things like that.” “. . . T h e r e w a s a d i c e

But to truly understand how campus g a m b l i n g o p e ra t i o n in stability has evolved at M-A, you have to look all the way back to the Vietnam War and the t h e D - w i n g b o y s b a t h r o o m . . .” integration of the school in the late ‘60’s.

“This school was a very upper middle-class school for the ‘50’s and much of the 1960’s,” explained Zito, “but they started to desegregate the schools, so for the first time you had large numbers of African-Americans on the M-A campus, you have the Vietnam War going on, just a complete change in the culture and makeup of the school.”

“It was just such an incendiary time. The campus really got trashed, part of it was actually torched, landscaping was trampled….Eventually things started to calm down a bit, but the school was never able really to get everything organized and managed effectively.”

This lack of organization was, at times, evident in recent years, particularly in terms of disciplinary policies.

“Seven years ago,” said Zito, “there was a dice gambling operation in the D-wing boys bathroom, so an admin would go in there and there would be 14 boys gambling, a full dice operation, with maybe $50 in cash on the floor.” As Zito explained, “Maybe they’d get caught a couple of times and yelled at or suspended a day, but there was no sort of systematic plan”

“One Thursday or Friday night, the first couple months I was here, we were here for several hours, trying to sort out a fight between 13 or 14 girls.” Zito said. “The problem was, they weren’t even sure who they hit or why they were fighting. It was a lot of screaming and a lot of drama––it’d been a long week and I’d just had enough, I’d had it with all of them, and I ended up yelling myself into everyone being very quiet. Eventually, we just decided they were all getting 5-day suspensions. So we started

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Violence at M-A setting a tone of, if you fight on campus, if you’re involved in that level of aggressive behavior, you’re automatically going to be suspended for 5 days with no exceptions. I think that whole afternoon is sort of a symbol of everything that was wrong with M-A at that time in terms of its culture” But what was stopping the administration from changing? Certainly M-A’s difficulties with violence and student behavior were clear to those at the school, but it was only recently that things have improved. According to Zito, the problem lay in the community atmosphere.

“There wasn’t a culture here of doing anything more,” said Zito, “There was a fear that if you started suspending people, the community would be up in arms and the administration would look bad. But in actuality, what the community doesn’t like is inconsistency”

Now, supervision is orderly and controlled. The campus is broken up into three zones that are constantly patrolled by campus aides and admins. To the dismay of M-A’s gamblers, bathroom dice games are no longer the norm. Students who fight are automatically suspended for 5 days while less serious violations receive lesser punishments. “ We h a v e a l o t o f Furthermore, rather than the 6-8 students M-A used to expel a year, M-A now expels about 25 students every year. w a n n a - b e b e h a v i o r. . .

While Zito has been in charge since 2007, he is by no Real gang members means solely responsible for improving student behavior at M-A. “We have a very busy conflict-resolution center,” d o n’t g o t o h i g h said Zito, “and Mr. Lippi, he is sort of the soldier s c h o o l .” for M-A, he’s always helped keep the ship afloat.”

Gang involvement at M-A is a concern often voiced in the local community. However, Zito would argue this is not a problem.

“We have a lot of wanna-be behavior, because real gang members don’t go to high school,” said Zito. “If you’re involved in criminal enterprises, you aren’t coming to your third period English class.”

Regardless of one’s opinion on the current M-A administration or its policies, violent behavior at the school has undeniably been curbed in recent years while student compliance has improved. Large numbers of students no longer roam the halls during class time and fights are not a weekly occurrence.

“The school was ready to be a calmer, more well taken care of place,” said Zito. “I think everyone has really appreciated the change. It’s safer and I think it’s a better school.”

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