Bard Fall Issue 2016

The Menlo Bubble

Editors-in-Chief: Anna Boonyanit and Sara Varadharajulu Layout Consultant: Sylvia Chen Writing Editors: Emily Finke, Sunia Sadeghi, and Ashley Zhang Photography Editor and Website Manager: Nikhar Arora Blog and Publicity Editor: Natalie Jarrett Copy Editor: Sunia Sadeghi Staff Writers: Lauren Chan, Cameron Kay, Mina Mahmood, and Hunter McDonald Teacher Advisor: Tripp Robbins

CONTENTS 4-5 Letter from an Editor 6-7 Profile of Maya Varma and Riya Mirchandaney 8-13 Under Construction: How Menlo Interacts with Change 1 4-1 9 Menlo Students Protest Sodexo in “March on Valparaiso”

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From Outside the Bubble - 3 Count Me Out 4- 7 Excellent Sheep Book Review 8-31 Playlist 3

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Letter from an Editor

Last summer, I taught at a leadership camp in the dusty, scorching hills of Livermore. I was delivering a presentation called “Finding Your Vision” and asked the campers about their personal visions and goals to achieve it. I heard the usual: I want to ace my classes, I want to be a engineer, etc, etc (not to say that these visions aren’t valid – they totally are). And then I heard something that surprised me: “I want to go to college.”

Looking back, I don’t know why it was so shocking to hear.

College is not a guaranteed step in life after high school for many people. And for those applying to college, their process differs extremely for ours. For many high school students, the idea of a “dream school” does not exist. What school they ultimately attend does not depend on their personal preference, but instead on the financial burden on their families. They follow the scholarship, not the supposed “stature” of the school.

And some students are expected to attend college by their own means. Most people who work with me during the school year are community college students trying to pay for electric bills and car repairs. One of my co-workers attending a private college took a year off school last year to scrounge together enough money for his tuition.

We as a community, are imprisoned in a Menlo bubble, one of our own making. The floaty film that surrounds us is embedded with stereotypes and assumptions and pity and fear.

Through this transparent layer, we have the ability to see the

world beyond; because of this, we can often deceive ourselves into believing that there never has been a bubble.

We hope that this issue will exert some pressure on the bubble. Our purpose is not to make you feel guilty of your lifestyle or realize that people have it much worse. We hope it encourages you to reflect on your preconceived notions of the world around you. We hope it encourages you to internalize your response to matters unfamiliar to you. We hope you have the chance to take a closer look at what emotions you associate with certain people, or places, or things. We hope ultimately to shatter the bubble together.

Sara

Profile of Maya Varma and Riya Mirchandaney By: Anna Boonyanit and Sara Varadharajulu

With the end of the 2015-2016 school year came the graduation of our spectacular and dedicated co-editor-in-chiefs, Maya Varma and Riya Mirchandaney. Maya and Riya joined the Bard in their sophomore year and have been hooked since.

Riya explains, “Seeing students so excited about writing, about ideas, about freeexpression, about the idea of a student-run magazine - it was just so refreshing.“

Their innovative thinking and passion for social issues transformed The Bard into more than just an arts and lifestyle magazine, but one that sparked important conversations in the Menlo community.

Their drive and boldness allowed them to tackle many sensitive topics, such as the issue, “Let’s Talk about Sex”. They

spent a tremendous amount of time working with administration and writers on what was suitable content and developing a creative layout. Riya says, “Editing such personal and powerful content, deciding which parts of stories were necessary, talking for hours with Maya and Tripp about anonymity, phrasing, whatever…

None of it was easy. And I’m proud we did it, proud we even had the idea in the first place, proud of all the amazing people who shared their experiences with us and added so much depth and meaning to The Bard.”

They hope that The Bard will continue to “push boundaries” and “fill in the gaps of the Menlo community.”

Maya is off to Macalester College in Minnesota and hopes to continue her writing by joining a literary magazine. Riya is attending Columbia University in New York and wants to join the Columbia Daily Spectator, the school’s daily newspaper and The Federalist, a satire/humor magazine similar to The Onion. Best of luck to our amazing editors!

Under Constrution

By Lauren Chan When I sat down to write about “ change and reshaping Menlo’s image,” a million ideas sprang into my mind. Menlo’s administration has come under student scrutiny over recent years. Changes appear to abound: an expensive construction project impeding on our beloved green space. The apparent move of a long-awaited new performing arts center to the back burner. The concept of “streams,” which do sound suspiciously similar to college majors. A farewell to the freshman World Religions program. A shift towards rubrics and standardization among teachers. The end of Knight School coupled with the prospect of a future “May Term” replacement. Departing faculty members. The new schedule.

Change points us to our values and identity. Some people reject change, some people aspire to it, but regardless of these differences, every single member of the Menlo community carries a different blueprint of Future Menlo with them. I know people who root for a blueprint of Future Menlo that looks more like 1980s Menlo. Others prefer turn-of-the-century Menlo. Some want 2016 Menlo to remain. Still others idealize a futuristic, computerized blueprint of Future Menlo.

With change comes inevitable growing pains. Of course, there are further layers to the growing pains specifically pertaining to Menlo. First of all, education is one of those things that ignites debate and dissent because it strikes the core of who we are as literate, privileged human beings in the world (yes, I had to bring privilege into it). Second, Menlo is expensive and it’s not

a far leap to feel entitled to a certain, self-constructed Menlo experience. And lastly, there’s a sizeable undercurrent of Menlo culture (and, arguably, of the privileged slice of the world we inhabit) that just loves to be critical. As evidence, I present to you the collective student response to every assembly speaker we’ve ever hosted. Now, a critical eye is not a bad thing. In fact, it’s usually a good thing. A population of critical eyes can cut through leadership gaffes or presumptive statements that less suspicious institutions would let fly under the radar.

Without at least some critical propensity, this article wouldn’t exist. But these traits are worth noting because they serve as the sometimes caustic environment in which Menlo responds to change. But I would argue that Menlo, and all of us, are better off when we view change as an opportunity to grow and lean into the tension of what education means.

It’s important I note that most objections to change are more than valid. Most definitely, many proposed alterations to the Menlo Way are uncomfortable at best. When I imagine “streams,” hey could easily end up being, in practice, glorified and preprofessional college majors that pigeonhole students into a field before they’re old enough to drive a car. I worry that the Menlo’s history curriculum is permanently departing from incorporating religion for its students. Tossing out our old Day 9 schedule and Knight School in favor of a less intensive schedule and “May Term” appear sketchy to many Menlo students.

Construction is easy to dislike. Why fix what isn’t broken? The administration at large should certainly take care to avoid introducing so much change that it creates scar tissue in the form of confusion for both faculty and students. But I think improvement can be made on both sides; namely, the student

tendency to dismiss change in the face of reluctance could be replaced by an engagement in change, one that actively incorporates those grievances and questions.

A leadership concept attributed to the pastor Andy Stanley applies well: Is the change we’re dealing with a problem to be solved or a tension to be managed? If it’s a problem to be solved, we should duke it out like Kim and Taylor (okay, maybe not quite like that), resolve any disputes over proposed changes, and move on like nothing happened. More and more though, the change and growth that Menlo is undergoing seems not like problems to be solved, but tensions to be managed and dialogues to be maintained over long periods of time. The tension in question lies between old norms and new endeavors.

A Menlo admissions tagline featured on the backs of many a Menlo T-shirt reads the following: Challenging, Engaging, Joyful. I think we can all agree that collectively designing Future Menlo is proving to be challenging. That’s why we need to maintain the second two words: find the joy in the challenge and engage in it.

For example, I hear a lot of blame tossed around for insufficient school spirit. The conversation about reviving spirit is often tied up with resentment of focus on academics or being too politically correct to do things like hazing freshmen on the first day of school (which deserve their own conversations).

While I want to see spirit increase as much as the next Student Council member, I think we should reframe our goals to include more than just Sea of Gold attendance. Spirit to me means

engagement, and upping the quantity of students sitting in the stands does not necessarily directly translate to increased enthusiasm or quality of spirit in our student body. When I see a packed, thoughtful crowd at Community Circle, I see school spirit. When I see students running the show at assembly, I see school spirit. When I see students attend the play, I see school spirit. When I see Happiness Club chalk up the quad over the weekend, I see school spirit. So I wish students committed to the athletic side of spirit wouldn’t disparage students who may pour their attention and efforts into other, equally valuable but less visible forms of engagement in our community. If we accept culture as fluid and not static, then we shouldn’t be surprised to see change over time, as long as the core value of student buy-in is still present.

I’m not here to diagnose or tell you to support or reject any given proposal or action taken by the Menlo administration.

I’m not trying to prescribe a particular treatment or course of action other than any one in which students use their voices.

Menlo mirrors many of the institutions of higher education that its graduates (including myself) will be joining soon; as such, we should practice what it means to be an engaged member of a learning community. The intergenerational web of students, teachers, coaches, staff and administrators caring for one another and working on our school together is what, in my opinion, serves as the rock-solid foundation of Menlo.

You might feel embattled and victimized by change. Don’t.

We are privileged (yes, I said it again) to be at a school whose leadership trusts and listens to its students as much as Menlo’s administration does. So go make an appointment with Mr.

Healy. Hang out with Schafedog in one of his student lunches.

Go to Community Circle. Weigh in. Yes, Menlo is changing, Menlo is growing, and as a student -- a primary stakeholder in these changes -- you have the unique opportunity to influence how future students experience Future Menlo. To reference APUSH, make sure the change feels like progress. You get to be an adjunct architect of an institution whose mission is to empower students to explore and expand their interests, reach their fullest potential, develop the skills necessary for success in college, and become ethical, responsible, and engaged members of ever wider communities. Call me sentimental, but that’s a pretty beautiful thing, and, despite the occasional disheartening setback, the faith I have in the Menlo community of architects makes me fundamentally optimistic about Future Menlo.

Mr. Schafer and Ms. Ramsey often share poet Adrienne Rich’s call to “claim your education,” not be a passive consumer or victim of it.

Claim your school, Menlo students.

Menlo Students Protest Sodexo in “March on Valparaiso”

By ASHLEY ZHANG

MAY 17, 2016

For the last 72 hours, hordes of Menlo students have been parading around the loop, peacefully protesting for better cafeteria food. The current caterer, Sodexo, has become notorious among Menlo students for its atrocious food.

In fact, Sodexo doesn’t even have a single Michelin star. Students have frequently voiced dissatisfaction with the company, and some have boycotted it, eating off-campus or bringing their own Draeger’s salads every day. We interviewed a junior who has been eating off-campus every day since the moment she became a sophomore. “Yeah, I’m basically like Rosa Parks boycotting the bus system. It’s a real lifestyle change, but everyone should make the switch. The more people join, the more change and impact we can make.

It’s really easy and affordable. I only spend like $30 per meal each day!”

However, the ever-increasing proportion of students eating off campus still has not been enough to generate change, hence the sea of Vineyard Vines and Lululemon parading around the loop.

A senior girl who was more than willing to speak with us said, “We’re calling it ‘March on Valparaiso’. We’ve been inspired by the great Martin Luther King Jr. and his March on Washington. He was brave enough to stand up for what he believed in, and so are we. Like he believed in equal rights for African Americans, we believe in having kale at the salad bar.”

The students have been circling the loop nonstop, but they have not been fasting. A team of moms have set up a food table laden with Dixie cups of Gatorade (a proud sponsor of the march), an assortment of items from the Starbucks menu, and golden brown crostinis topped with dollops of caviar.

They have been constantly jetting back and forth in their Mercedes SUVs to replenish the table.

We joined the students for a few laps around the loop to get a deeper understanding of their grievances.

“Legend tells it that they used to have soft serve and soda. I can’t believe they took it away! Isn’t the right to freedom of soft drinks like in the First Amendment or something?!” a freshman told us.

“The burgers they serve are inedible. They don’t let you specify if you’d like it rare, medium, or well done, and the cheese isn’t even imported from a log cabin in the Swiss Alps!” another freshman chimed in, shortly before tripping on a speed bump, leaving a scuff mark on the toe of his Sperrys.

“I can only drink 42° water that baby pandas have bathed in,” a sophomore girl informed us while tucking into a caviar crostini. “Regular water with cucumber slices floating on top is not an acceptable replacement!”

The food isn’t the only problem with the cafeteria. A senior boy told us, “The ambience in the cafeteria is not ideal for digesting food. I think seaglass green walls and a live harp player would help lull the masticated nutrients through my large intestine.”

“Service is sooo slow! There’s this one server who only has one arm, and he takes for-freaking-ever to scoop the mac and cheese! Like at least seven seconds! Life at Menlo is really fast paced, and we don’t have that kind of time to waste waiting around,” a junior girl told us. “Hey, do you have any caption ideas for this Instagram post?” she asked us, showing us an image on her rose gold iPhone 6s of her and two friends posing in the loop with picket signs that read “We Want Açaí Bowls!” “Wait jk, I got it: ‘March {on Valpo} Madness *clover emoji* #democracy #yaass’.”

As the sun rises and sets over the picturesque Stent Hall, the students of Menlo School are marching on.

The Fight Continues: Menlo Student Delivers “I Have a Dream” Speech in Battle for Better Cafeteria Food On the fourth day of the Menlo student body “March on Valparaiso,” an ongoing protest against cafeteria caterer Sodexo, a Menlo senior (who humbly refused to be named) gave a historic speech from behind a podium in front of Stent Hall. The student gave us the exclusive rights to publish the speech transcript, and said that if any colleges would like to know his/her identity, they should contact us.

“I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score and one year ago, a great institution, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, was established. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to hundreds of white children who had been seared in the flames of withering mediocrity. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their lack of eliteness.

But one hundred and one years later, the Menlo student still is not free.

One hundred and one years later, the life of the Menlo student is still sadly crippled by the manacles of Sodexo and the chains of disgusting food. One hundred years later, the Menlo student lives on a lonely island of starvation in the midst of a vast ocean of culinary prosperity. And so we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we’ve come to our institution’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our institution wrote the magnificent words of the Menlo School acceptance letters, they were signing a promissory note to which every student was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all students would be guaranteed the “unalienable Rights” of “Lunch, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” It is obvious today that Menlo has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her students are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, Menlo has given the students a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds,” which as we all know, never happens to a Menlo student.

But we refuse to believe that the bank of Menlo is bankrupt. We refuse

to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of $41,000 tuitions of this institution. And so, we’ve come to cash this check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of filet mignon and the security of black truffle mac and cheese.

Let us not wallow in the Silicon Valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends.

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this institution will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all food will be created edible.”

I have a dream that one day in the red sauce of tomatoes, the fresh basil from Nepal and the minced garlic from Egypt will be able to stew together in the broth of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the sandwich bar, a place sweltering with the lack of refrigeration will be transformed into an oasis of crisp imported ingredients.

I have a dream that my four little siblings will one day attend an institution where their woes will not be the mediocrity of the food, but the impossibility of their course loads.

I have a dream today!

With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to be sent to Mr. Lapolla’s office together, to stand up for food together, knowing that we will be well fed one day.

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of Menlo’s students will be able to sing with new meaning:

My Menlo ‘tis of thee, sweet land of specialty meat, of thee I sing.

Land where my hungers died, land of Julia Child’s pride, From every main course and side, let freedom ring!

And when this happens, we will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Menlo spiritual:

Full at last! Full at last!

Thank Gordon Ramsay, we are full at last!”

Sodexo Sacked: “March on Valparaiso” and “I Have a Dream” Speech Catalyze Change in the Menlo Community

By ASHLEY ZHANG

SEPT. 16, 2016

Three months ago, we exclusively reported on the “I Have a Dream” speech that was delivered at the Menlo School “March on Valparaiso.” Sources have confirmed that as soon as the speech ended, every single person in the loop burst into applause. Tears were reportedly streaming down Head of School Than Healy and Upper School Director John Schafer’s faces, and Sodexo employees threw their aprons to the ground in shame and defeat.

Today, plans to replace Sodexo and construction to build a new cafeteria are well underway. We’ve been told that the details are still being kept confidential, but rumor has it that the new cafeteria will be a three-story extension on top of Stent Hall. The top floor will have walls made entirely out of glass so that students can enjoy a panoramic view of the loop, the historic site where change was incited. The second floor will have seaglass green walls and a live harp player, as the students requested. The first floor will be an exact replica of the old cafeteria, for those who might be nostalgic.

However, don’t let appearances fool you. Menlo is kissing Sodexo goodbye, and hiring an army of 795 personal chefs trained at Le Cordon Bleu, one for each student. The school is also hiring 795 waiters to clean up after each student, so they can be as slovenly as they please while devouring their made-to-order delicacies. Never again will students and administrators have to face a cafeteria strewn with plates of half-eaten mediocre meals.

Construction will be completed by the start of the 2017-2018 school year.

Also, tuitions will rise to $149,000.

Thanks to their bravery and dedication, the students of Menlo School will finally be able to see the light of justice.

Renderings of the new project:

Disclaimer: The contents of these articles are purely satirical

From Outside the Bubble Lisa Hewitt

As a student who has left Menlo, I have been asked to write about the Menlo bubble. When I sat down to write this story, all I could think about was a giant bubble encircling the campus. While that is a bit crazy, it made me really ponder what a bubble is, what’s inside, and what happens when it bursts.

Before starting at the high school, when I peered into the bubble, Menlo seemed dreamlike: students getting into good colleges, athletes pursuing their passion, actors and musicians making a name for themselves, and teachers who care and inspire. Not to mention the beautiful campus and facilities. What more could a student want? While these things are easy to see from the outside, it is important to remember that the view from outside of a bubble is distorted.

From the inside, the air is intoxicating and addictive, and at first, it actually seems even better than the view from the outside. I quickly realized Menlo is exhilarating: filled with challenge, inspiration, fun, and boundless opportunity. With time I found these were mixed with immense pressure and competition unlike anywhere else.

There is a both a panic and a thrill that keeps

Menlo students teetering on the edge between maximum performance and risk. This is when the bubble becomes suffocating. No matter the cost, the students strive for the highest grade, best review, and most difficult win. But it is this college-centric fury that drives them to a place where they lack sleep and combat anxiety and depression, where free time and relaxation are scarce. This can often lead to great success, but it can also go too far. It is in those moments that the intoxicating air seemed a little less inviting to me and is what makes Menlo decidedly less fun than it appears from the outside. It is at this point that the suffocation of the bubble takes over.

I, like all the students on the inside, got caught up in the performance race. In moving so fast and spending all of my time with like-types who are all consumed with school, it was easy to get wound up in the stress or just plain miss out on the immense opportunities on campus. It becomes easy to forget that grades aren’t everything, that getting that one A on that one test won’t make or break your life. And then no matter how great the teacher, how incredible the performance or

how interesting the project, everything becomes tainted because of the pressure. But eventually the bubble has to pop.

The bubble burst for me because of a chronic illness that would not allow me to keep up with the Menlo pace, so I did not re-enroll for my junior year. As soon as the bubble popped, I was left on the outside but with a clear view in. The yearning for the intoxicating air left me begging for more, but this time with a clarity and understanding that I couldn’t see before. While living and breathing Menlo and getting caught up in the grades and resumÊ, it is hard to fully appreciate the incredible opportunities greeting students every time they set foot on campus. One forgets that the creativity happening in every classroom isn’t common.

One underestimates the invaluable relationships that are created. One simply lacks understanding of how truly outstanding the teachers are, how beautiful the campus is, and how dynamic the learning experience is. Students may think they know how great it is and certainly they may be told that, but rarely do they take a moment to savor what they have.

After I left Menlo I had to not only readjust my life views, but also mourn the loss of everything great that Menlo has to offer. I learned my dislike for an easy A, and how truly uninspiring some teachers can be. I also discovered that not all students are as interesting to talk to as Menlo students, nor is every student is a stellar athlete, artist, or musician on the side. In leaving I learned that there is a great life outside of Menlo, but it isn’t always as colorful….If only Menlo students could enjoy the moment.

I guess maybe I don’t see that huge bubble around the campus anymore. In pondering this article, I think I see it clearly. It is an amazing institution filled with the best of the best in terms of students, teachers, coaches, opportunities, facilities and just about everything. Its biggest flaw is just the fact that everyone inside is moving so fast and focused so much on the future, that they can’t really appreciate all that it is while they are there. And in letting stress and anxiety eat them up, they are missing the biggest gift they may ever get: not the preverbial “Menlo education” but “four years of high school at Menlo.” Pop.

Count Me Out

by Mina Mahmood

It is no small feat hearing my peers complain about the topnotch, state-of-the art school they attend and refraining from roundhouse kicking them right in the face. I am by no means a blameless, elevated being. Alternatively, I’ve been blessed with an opportunity to step outside my frame of life and into a setting as different as humanly possible from the Menlo community. Let me be clear: I am not attacking your privilege. I am attacking your attitude towards it. What I hope to accomplish in this article is the elimination of the thought that is unquestionably running through at least fifty percent of my readers’ minds--the thought that sounds something like The exact opposite of Menlo? Count me in!

December of 2005 saw remote Kashmir rocked by an earthquake of massive magnitude. The weak Pakistani infrastructure did little to provide the necessary aid to millions of displaced people, so my family’s medical brigade flew there to contribute to the feeble relief effort. Our makeshift clinics in the tent communities that housed the displaced made a small dent in the devastation. Since then, I travel annually to Pakistan as a member of this brigade, providing primary care and running vaccination programs in the small, impoverished village of Jalalpur Sharif.

These visits have made me infinitely more sensitive to the hissy fits of overindulged, spoiled students at Menlo. My deepest condolences if your Uber driver took a detour that consumed ten of your sweet, sweet minutes. I’m so sorry that you can be transported virtually anywhere with the touch of a screen (eugh.

That new iOS update though, am I right?) And what could be more revolting than Sodexo’s burgers––appropriate amounts meat, dairy,

vegetables, and grain in one meal? Nasty. Construction to make our school more modern, comfortable, and accommodating? How dare we be displaced from the senior quad! Count me out.

Let’s be real: we are all ingrates. Many Menlo students don’t grasp the idea that while they groan restlessly in traffic, residents of insulated towns like Jalalpur Sharif lack the means to reach the nearest hospital. A grimace of distaste at Friday’s lunch selection belittles the scarcity of nourishment in the lives of villagers. For them, housing, let alone a sophisticated institution of education, is nothing but a hazy dream.

I don’t deny that differing geography, class, and overall circumstance generate a different standard of life. Unique forms of problems are bred for each the Pakistani and the Silicon Valley local. Take ever-present, widely-discussed stress. Students and professionals must push themselves beyond their limits, often at the expense of their well-being and sanity, just as poor men and

women must sacrifice their health and time to work all day to make a meager living. Stress, anxiety, and worry are real, valid nuisances for both the villager and the city dweller. Seems fair. We’re allowed to complain.

Here’s where I really must curb my temptation to boot my peer in the face. I implore you, fellow Knight, to employ those fresh analytical skills and think more critically. Why do you suffer? Why do you complete two essays, a project, and a problem set in one night and despair over the tremendous Menlo workload? Allow me––because you’re being trained, prepared, and marinated to excel at a higher level of education so that you can successfully do what you love and earn a living and live a glorious life. And why does the peasant suffer? Why does he beg at street corners and deeply furrow his brow at the overwhelming combination of his stomach growling and his daughter crying? Because he’ll do whatever it takes to acquire some bread and sustain his family.

Discrepancy and imbalance are also legitimate issues. Needless to say, we all face troubles and withstand pain in order to secure a better future. However, while one future is of education and wealth, the other is of basic survival. The fact is that we are privileged in every way. While we’re at it, let’s be more real: equality is impossible. My intent is not to trivialize your problems, but to provide you with a more positive outlook as you embark on your endeavors. Don’t let a narrow perspective rule your life. Philosopher Jaden Smith once said, “Unawareness Is The Only Sin, And If You Were Aware, You Would Know.” For the sake of evolving into a better human being and for the sake of respecting the less fortunate, be conscious of your position, enjoy the hell out of the opportunities presented to you, and for the love of God, be a little grateful and think twice before complaining. Not only will you become a more virtuous person, but you’ll also be happier and narrowly escape the sensation of my foot making contact with your cheek. Trust Jaden, and trust me.

Books: Excellent Sheep by William Deresiewicz

by Lauren Chan

From the moment I saw the title Excellent Sheep: The Miseducation of the American Elite and the Way to a Meaningful Life on the desk of my sophomore English teacher, I wanted to read it. I had read the distilled version of the book in the form of The New Republic’s essay “Don’t Send Your Kids to the Ivy League” (a collection of the book’s most extreme positions spliced together for shorter, albeit less balanced, digestion) and found myself not only surprised, but also in denial of such a damning critique of the schools I once aspired to attend. So I avoided the full argument, the book, for almost two years, thereby avoiding the faults of the elite education machine that I’m so clearly a part of.

This summer, however, I found myself floating in the strange abyss in between my former mantra, “Don’t think or stress out about college! Just chill out and be happy! Everything will work out!” and “Oh shoot, it’s actually time to make a list of schools and start writing applications to them.” But before I could feel prepared to churn out essay upon essay designed for my ideal schools, I felt the need to further clarify what I was looking for in an ideal college education. Or maybe I was just procrastinating.

Either way, this summer -- before I fully invested myself in the hope of admission to any elite college -- I finally endeavored to read Excellent Sheep by Columbia graduate and former Yale English professor William Deresiewicz. I wanted to hear the bad news before I committed to the beautiful, prosperous, idyllically elite college image pedalled by countless emails, brochures, and admissions officers. Since completing a needlessly stressful freshman year, I’ve dedicated myself to a zero-stress approach to college, and attempted to convince my peers of the same.

I spoke at an assembly last year about this transformation, and about the downfalls of a stress-filled, college-focused high school experience. I was willing to acknowledge the flaws of the “means” by which Menlo students seek admission to elite college (basically, by putting themselves in overdrive), but unwilling to acknowledge the flaws of the “end” -- the elite colleges themselves.

All that ended when I read Excellent Sheep. Disclaimer: this book is not an easy read. It’s not just about elite colleges -- it’s about the whole system: affluent private high schools like Menlo, the wealth necessary to live in relative proximity to these schools, SAT prep, the money necessary for many application-bolstering extracurriculars, the alarming profusion of pricey independent college counselors, intense parental pressures, I could go on. And you can’t escape Deresiewicz’s commentary by simply avoiding the Ivy League, either: by his definition, elite schools include not only the Ivy League, but also Stanford, MIT, Williams, Amherst, Swarthmore, Duke, Northwestern, Tufts, Pomona, Claremont McKenna, Scripps, Georgetown, Bowdoin, Bates, Colby...many names, big and small, in the roadmaps of Menlo students past, present, and future.

Because no one in the Menlo community is spared from his gutting of the elite education meritocracy, it’s a deeply uncomfortable read. But it was both deeply uncomfortable and deeply important to read a takedown of this privileged track through education -- one we all began when we stepped onto the Menlo campus for the first day of school, and arguably one that many Menlo students began just by birth into a middle-or-higher economic class.

While Deresiewicz’s book appears like a normal, nonfiction, adult-driven book, he is actually speaking directly to students, which is refreshing. He also calls us “entitled little shits,” which is not quite as refreshing, but still incredibly honest. The whole book is thought-provoking and candid, which caused me to mark up the margins and dog-ear the pages with exclamation points and questions.

I have plenty of objections to Deresiewicz’s arguments.

For example, I dislike his frequent use of “probably” to extend unpleasant statistics of certain schools to other institutions that may not have the same data. He comes off as rather pretentious and all-knowing while accusing elite schools of the same, especially in the face of many low-income students for whom majoring in economics and going on to a wealthy career may be the most “morally courageous” thing for their families (compared to his ideal of moral courage, which seems to be an English major and a life entirely removed from finance, law, or medicine). I also remain unconvinced that the “second-tier schools” he recommends students attend are that much better at cultivating true intellectual passion and diversity.

But even if Deresiewicz doesn’t persuade you on every point in his book, the awareness of the faults of elite schools will serve you well at any institution you attend, especially if it is an elite one. I no longer feel like I have so many blind spots in my college search process. And if I end up at one of these elite schools, all the better: all institutions are flawed, and an awareness of specific flaws will only aid my understanding of how I can engage with it in a productive way. But if nothing else, it’s worth reading in order to understand why we’ll be at college and what we should prepare to really seek from an experience in higher learning. You could consider Excellent Sheep part of your education. We are at a college prep school, after all.

Highlights: “Purpose means doing something, not ‘being’ something.”

“You may never completely eradicate the need for status, but you do not have to act on it. And the more that you resist it, the weaker it becomes.”

“Instead of success, make the work itself the goal.”

“You can’t accessorize your way to moral courage.”

“As the author Charles Wheelan has put it, ‘interesting, successful people rarely lead orderly, linear lives.’”

“Go to a school you connect with, not, as students almost always do, the most prestigious one that lets you in.”

“When people say that students at elite schools have a sense of entitlement, that is what they are referring to: the belief that you deserve more than other people because your SAT scores are higher. Of course, your SAT scores are higher because you have already gotten more than other people.”

Escape from the Bubble: A Playlist

By Anna Boonyanit

Scriabin Piano Sonata No. 2 Mvt. 1 Bach Cello Suite No. 1 Rachmaninoff Prelude Op. 23 No. 4 Schumann Fantasy Op. 16 Mvt. 3 Ravel Piano Trio Mvt. 3 Rachmaninoff Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini Variation 18 Chopin Berceuse Schumann Piano Quartet Op. 47 Mvt. 3 Grieg Piano Concerto Op. 16 Mvt. 2 Chopin Nocturne Op. 9 No. 1 Gershwin Prelude No. 2 Chopin Prelude Op. 28 No. 5 Brahms Intermezzo Op. 119 No. 1