The Vedette, May 2016

The VEDETTE Vol. 117 Issue 04 May 2016

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The Buxtons’ Final Lap

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The Long March

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Senior Section

Contents

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photo courtesy Catherine Battersby photos courtesy Arielle Pare, Kathy Talbot

Features p. 4 The Buxtons’ Final Lap Reilly Reinhold

Suraag Srinivas, Peter Talbot p. 10 Culver Secrets:

5th Classman Year Arielle Pare p. 11 Special Olympics Ashley Trube

Creative Writing

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p. 12 The Long March

Caleb Ricketts, p.23 p.13 Near Dorm Problems

Vivian Wang

p. 14 Facilities Q&A p.24 Destini Pimental

p.25 p. 15 What Culver Hockey

Means to Me

Daniel Woolfenden p.16 Setting Sail p. 27

Kia Vedel

News

Sports

Red Isadorah Dooley Hunter Wonderland and Time Andrea Gonzalez-Canseco Your Quiet Voice Clare Nowalk Poems Also Get Annoyed Marina Fernandez de la Cuesta The Fine Print Kia Vedel Problematic and Only the Poet Knows Clare Nowalk Dog Tags Kia Vedel Call her Lev Sarina McCabe

Senior Section

Entertainment

p. 18 Batman vs. Superman Kary Stevick p.19 Short Story Review: Limberlost Peter Talbot

Matriculation List

Cover photo of Mr. Buxton, courtesy of Mrs. Buxton.

Dear Culver,

When people ask me where I am going to college I can’t help but laugh as I explain I am going home. Home to Denmark. I decided to take a gap year before applying to Danish colleges. My friends tend to focus on those hours panicking over essays, meetings with Corky, and an obscene amount of money wasted on applying to American colleges. However, I value the experience of taking standardized test and using endless time trying to fit myself into a 500 word essay. I make the choice to go home, and that is a blessing. Getting into my top schools was not a bittersweet moment for me, but empowered as I chose to not go.

I will miss this county. When you ask me what my favorite thing about America is; my answer is always the same. It’s incredibly cheesy. My favorite thing about America is Culver, my home away from home for two years. The end is near for us seniors, and I dread the final chimes of the chapel.

Culver has been many things to me; but most of all it is a place to grow. In an attempt to keep us occupied and out of trouble, Culver tries to fill up every single moment of the students’ lives.

This tendency proved to be amazing for many of us, as we join new clubs and try new things.

The Vedette has been one of those opportunities for me. Don’t let my title confuse you, I am a senior and the co-editor of the Vedette; but the true rock of this newspaper is Peter Talbot. First of all I was new to the Vedette this year, and was thrown into the editor position before I realized what happened. I learned the workings of a publications as we went along, and it has been a great experience. I am so happy and proud to have worked with Peter and the rest of the team this year. I can’t wait for Peter to be the senior editor next year, and see where he takes the paper.

- Kia Vedel

The Vedette Staff

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Editors-in-Chief: Kia Vedel and Peter Talbot (Next year’s editors: Peter Talbot, Reilly Reinhold) Section Editors: Eleanor Ericson, Brittany Isaacson, Destini Pimental, Reilly Reinhold, Suraag Srinivas, Kary Stevick, Ran Tao Writers: Eleanor Ericson, Isadorah Dooley Hunter, Julie Fan, Marina Fernandez, Andrea Gonzalez-Canseco, Brittany Isaacson, Sarina McCabe, Clare Nowalk, Arielle Pare, Destini Pimental, Reilly Reinhold, Caleb Ricketts, Suraag Srinivas, Kary Stevick, Peter Talbot, Ashley Trube, Kia Vedel,Vivian Wang, Daniel Woolfenden Photographers: Catherine Battersby, Lew Kopp, Alfred Eisenstaedt, Arielle Pare, Brent Raver, Kathy Talbot, Peter Talbot, Ashley Trube, Dane VanDeVelde, Connor Ventling,

About us The Vedette is the student-run newspaper of the Culver Academies which seeks to provide a campuswide forum for discussion. The goal of The Vedette is to facilitate open and honest discussions between students, faculty, and administration, and to inform its readers of campus, local, and world news. We are open to letters, ideas for articles, photos, cartoons, and other contributions; if you have contructive criticism, please contact us.

Campus papers are only as good as their contributors and we know you have something to say.

Opinions expressed in The Vedette do not reflect the opinions of The Vedette staff, and their publication does not in any way imply an endorsement of these opinions by this magazine.

YOUR EDITORS

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Reilly Reinhold, Suraag Srinivas, Peter Talbot

The Buxtons’ Final Lap

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he final lap of a 17 year long marathon is both exhausting and exhilarating. As one nears the final turn, runners are apt to do one of two things. Either look back over their shoulder, see the distant competition and relax, or push forward, indifferent to one’s successes and constantly looking towards the finish line and beyond. It is no surprise that the Buxtons have chosen the latter as they near the end of their time at Culver. That isn’t to say that there hasn’t been a bit of reflection - two weeks ago The Vedette sat down with Mr. Buxton to discuss everything from his background to the leg of the race he and Mrs. Buxton have run during their time at Culver.

Photo courtesy Communications

roads of where the white privileged kids were but then all the African-American kids lived right across the main street and then the entire neighborhood of Jewish kids were here and the Italian kids were not far.

And we all went to school together and we all played sports together.”

the street, performing your best in school, and simply enjoying life.

But, not everything was easy in Providence.“ Half the kids I played ball with went to prison. I used to go play with them when I was in college.You know, you’d get groups of guys together and go out and play the prisoners. I knew Living in such a colorful melting pot them all. So there was a lot of moThe Warm-Up throughout the 50’s, Mr. Buxton’s life rality play in everything that we did growing up.

Contrary to popular belief, the Bux- was anything but sheltered. tons did not emerge into this world as the dynamic duo we know them “[We lived] this sort of . . .Wally and My father was in a store one day as today. While Mrs. Buxton lived a Beaver Cleaver existence. We go and this guy comes in in with a gun childhood where traveling the world out after breakfast and come back and a ski mask and holds everybody was her sense of normalcy, Mr. Bux- for dinner . . . maybe? And play all up and says ‘give me your wallet’ ton was born and raised in the mod- day and do anything we wanted to; and he got to my father and said ‘Oh no not you Dr. Buxton,’ and est city of Providence, Rhode Island, it was pretty safe.” walked right by him. [My father] the third of eight children.

Mr. Buxton describes the life of a child came home and said ‘John I think “I also grew up in a very multi-cul- growing up in the 50’s; days were I met one of your friends today.’ I tural environment. Sort of the cross- spent playing ball with the kids down said ‘It might have been one of your

FEATURES

Features

friends.’”

After his early days in Providence, Mr. Buxton went on to study at Brown, majoring in English and playing three division one sports: football, wrestling, and lacrosse.The commitment required to juggle so much at once and not burn out like a candle in the wind is a testament to the unquantifiable drive Mr. Buxton possesses. After Brown, Mr. Buxton couldn’t stay out of the classroom, teaching at St. Paul’s, an east coast secondary boarding school far from the shores of Lake Maxinkuckee.

The Culver Connection

5 personal friends with the director of admissions there so I just said ‘take this kid, he is fabulous.’ And they did.

After he graduated from Stanford, the only events he ever attended were Culver events. He said, you know, ‘I went to St. Paul’s, but I’m a Culver guy.’”

The Buxtons heard about Culver just like many of us did: through a friend. It wasn’t in their plans, never an idea in the back of their heads. Culver just happened to the Buxtons, just like it tends to do for many of the rest of us.

The Pace

Culver connections are odd. Found in the places you’d never look, Culver tends to appear rather serendipitously to Photo courtesy Pam Buxton those who need it. The question, “How did you hear about Culver?” brings Culver people together, and the Buxtons’ story is as interesting as any other.

If it wasn’t for a certain trouble-maker transferring from Culver to St. Paul’s, we might never have met the Buxtons.

“He said the reason that he left Culver was that he was always getting in trouble and he was marching. When we first came here, when you got in trouble at Culver, they made you take a rifle and walk around a circle. And I was like, ‘that’s a really bad idea.’ I mean, you drive smart kids away by making them do stupid things. And we went through a number of iterations where we came up with responses that were creative and helpful to the community, but I’m not going to waste anybody’s time walking around a circle with a rifle. He said he couldn’t get into Stanford if he kept marching and not doing other good stuff. His brother was graduating from Culver and so I admitted him. I loved the kid, I thought he was great and, he ended up going to Stanford. I don’t know how we got him into Stanford because he was a 540 tester. But I was

17 years ago the gun fired to signal the start of the Buxtons’ Culver race, and they’ve been running ever since. Running a 17 year long race is more of a marathon than a sprint.

Throughout those 17 years Culver has experienced significant improvement in all areas.

Mr. Buxton agreed that after such a tenure, any transition is bound to be turbulent, but that “the last Head of Schools was here for 17 years too. So in 34 years this school has had only two Heads of Schools. That is unheard of.” According to Mr. Buxton the average tenure of heads of schools is around seven years. Having led Culver for as long as most Culver Juniors and 2nd Classmen have been alive, the Buxtons have been a constant in the lives of many younger members of the Cul-

ver community.

Mr. Buxton attributes his long tenure to planning, getting stuff done, successful team building, and most importantly, trust. “There’s an expression that goes something like this: ‘organizations change at the rate of trust’. Keep that in mind forever, that’s important. I think if you can create an environment where there is

Features

6 trust, good things happen. I think if Mr. Buxton reminisced back to the you don’t have trust, things don’t go days when Mr. Fetuga, whom he realong very well.” Trust is an essen- fers to as Billy, was the captain of the football team tial part of the and Regimental Culver experiCommander. Mr. ence, and it exFetuga gave a tends to being a speech on how vital part of our it is essential very existence. to “sweat the Without it, our small stuff,” if leadership sysyou want to be tems would be a good leader. nonexistent; Mr. Buxton says, our lives would “You’ve gotta be micromanJohn Buxton pay attention aged; our honor to the details.” council would not be student run. Although stu- This is what separates the thinkdents might criticize Culver for nev- ers from the doers on our campus er letting a moment go unplanned and as Mr. Buxton so accurately put or unscheduled lest we burn the it “The road to hell is paved with school down, we have come far in good intentions. You have to have building trust between students and a plan, and you have to work the the faculty/staff since the Buxtons plan.” Without thinkers or doers, our Culver world would crumble; first started. and the Buxtons have encouraged “I had heard from a student when us to become both. we had first got here that said ‘you know, we really can’t be trusted’ and And while we may not be at the I said ‘Yeah, that’s going to change because if you can’t be trusted this isn’t going to work.’ We have to be able to trust the kids to do the right thing. It was a little bit more like they hadn’t been giving enough autonomy. So they didn’t know what to do with it. [The student] said ‘last time we had a holiday we flooded Benson.’ I’m like, ‘so, are you congenitally incapable of doing the right thing or, why do they have you on a leash? I thought this was a leadership school.’ He said ‘Well uh, we’re kids’. I replied,‘Well you better start acting like young adults, then we’ll get stuff done.’”

“In 34 years this school has had only two Heads of Schools.That is unheard of.”

point of independence that many students wish, our independence lies in the more important issues. There will always be a struggle between students and administration for less scheduled time, longer Wi-Fi hours, and unblocked Netflix. But what the Buxtons have given us is not so trivial. Because of them, our students have the independence to lead and grow as individuals, as well as members of the Culver community.

The Wall(s) At some point in a marathon runners will hit what’s known as the “Wall,” a point where continuing seems impossible. The Buxtons hit the “Wall”, but theirs, was not typical. First, they knew what they had to do to overcome their “Wall” and to inspire change. Second, this “Wall” did not come at two thirds the way through the race, it came at the starting gun. Just two months after Mr. Buxton had assumed his role as head of schools, he was speaking with the CEO of a Photo courtesy Pam Buxton

32 Features

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Photo courtesy Pam Buxton

When the Buxtons first arrived at Culver, disobedient students were not all they had to worry about.

The Buxtons had to fight against the tide of traditional teachers and traditional classrooms in order to create the Culver they envisioned.

“The faculty hated me. It was true.

You know, we were doing antiquated stuff in antiquated classrooms in antiquated ways and the faculty was doing all the talking. The kids never got a word in edgewise. And because the faculty was smarter than the kids and wanted to prove how smart they were.”

Even though students see her walking around campus with a smile on her face, they have never seen Mrs. Buxton like this!

Fortune 500 company whose only critique of Culver was that “there’s not enough joy.” The Buxtons knew that they had to fix this lack of joy.

“I had a lot of fun as a kid. I only got serious . . . later on in life . . . but I think kids should have fun . . . it should be hard. But it should be worthwhile and it should be fun.

Not ‘ha-ha’ fun but meaningful.”

The majority of Culver students work hard, but when one walks about campus, there is a certain spirit that we are all aware of. After breaks, students look forward to the chance to be back on campus once again, living with their friends and enjoying the Culver life while still working hard at what is worthwhile to them.

“You know, I couldn’t even get kids to go to parades when I first came here. You hearing me? They wouldn’t go. And when I got here the kids wouldn’t march to parades.And I said,‘This looks like they’re going for a walk in the woods. What’s going on?’ And they’d say, ‘Well, it’s hard enough to get them to march in step during a parade.’ And I said, ‘Yeah, I’m not buying that. And he said “’You don’t understand, didn’t they tell you about this before you got here?’”

Today Culver’s team of educators are some of the finest in the world.

72% of our teachers have Master’s Degrees, and thirteen of them hold Ph.D.’s. Any Culver student can tell you, classrooms at Culver are unlike any most high school students experience. Our unique block schedule allows a more college-like course experience that allows students to delve deeper into their studies. Teachers here care about their students, and go above and beyond to give students the one-on-one time they need to succeed. The rift between teachers and students that was here when the Buxtons first arrived has improved considerably. There is a mutual respect to be found between students and teachers at Culver that gives academic life the attitude it needs for continued success. And thanks to that, Culver has been bringing in better and better students each year from around the world.

“Mr. Batten said to me ‘Do you know how to run a merit scholarship program?’ and I said ‘Yes sir, I do.’ So he said ‘Alright. I’ll give you $10 million.You go run one,’ and I said ‘You bet.’

Nowadays Culver students are attending top universities, and winning top scholarships. The Buxtons have contributed to this success by acknowledging Culver’s strengths and building upon them.

Features

8 “We’re a school that educates the students. Mr. Buxton spoke with a whole person. We want you fully hockey coach from Notre Dame developed when you leave Culver. who said, “You guys do things that We want your mind and your mor- everybody else wants to do and als fully intact. can’t.”

We want you to reflect. Most The Buxtons schools are built have brought solely on acaa better sense demics and athof communiletics . . . there’s ty to campus. nothing about What was once your physia disjointed and cal and mental uncooperative well-being ever group of Culver brought into the schools is now Notre Dame c o nve r s a t i o n . truly One Culver.

And that’s what Hockey Coach we are. That’s “Why did we why we do all create the All this stuff . . . because we want kids School meeting?” Mr. Buxton asked to understand how to compete, co- us. Glancing at each other, Peoperate, and collaborate.” ter was finally able to stutter the From the day Henry Harrison Cul- words, ‘Community.’ ‘That’s right,’ ver founded it, Culver has had an in- Mr. Buxton replied. ‘It was also to tense focus on educating the whole make everyone aware that you are person. Mr. Buxton has success- part of something larger than yourfully brought the focus back to that in his last seventeen years.

“You guys do things that everybody else wants to do and can’t.”

self.’ This must resonate with many of students and faculty since Culver has a tendency to swallow us up and block an individual’s peripheral vision. We can get too wrapped up in what’s going on in our own world and become distant from those who make up our Culver family.The familial bonds students and adults develop during their time at Culver are often unbreakable and their foundation is built on teamwork and trust.

Certainly, the Buxtons have brought much change to this campus, and more is sure to come as we enter our new era. Their policy of “continuous improvement” has served our campus well, transforming us from a rag-tag bunch of cadets and girls participating in the fad of military schools into one of the most well respected private secondary schools in the nation. Culver still has its flaws, but at least Dr. Power will not have to worry about getting

“We changed the mission also. Because it said ‘We are first and foremost an academic school.’ And I said ‘No, you’re not.’”

And truly, whole person education is what students need to compete in the world we live in. Simply having good test scores won’t be enough.

Today’s students need to have the ability to think, be competent, be organized, and be independent. This is exactly what today’s Culver gives its

Photo courtesy Communications

Features

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us to march during parades.

Post-Culver The Buxton’s in their post Culver years are moving to a small town in New Hampshire. They plan to stay active, which knowing them is probably an understatement. “We’ll fix it. They don’t know they need to be fixed yet. That’s what we’ll do. I’ll get on the school board and figure out how we need to do business differently in the little town. Pam will run the United Way campaign. We’ll just be involved,” says Mr. Buxton, who is isn’t quite ready to hang up his hat just yet. Once everything from their home is packed and ready to go the two will be off on a new path once again.

Mr. Buxton has even considered the possibility of there being a book or two in him, even one about Culver.The potential is there; he was an English major after all. He Photo courtesy news.culver.org has a desire to answer the question: Why Culver? As the man who has dedicated his seventeen years of his because you’re not going to be any good to anybody if life to serving our school, he certainly knows it better you’re not healthy. There were seven more, they were brilliant. One of the things was . . . always consult the than anyone else. students.That didn’t make the top ten but it was close.”

The Buxtons have left their mark at Culver. In speaking with him, he places a special emphasis on ‘we’ because The Cool Down he admits that what he has accomplished could not have been done without the participation of the whole Watching the Buxtons take part in the festivities these campus. For a proper last few weeks, we tend to forget that the Buxtons have passing of the torch, not yet walked through the Iron Gate they open and Mr. Buxton had a few close each year, and have only just now received their words of advice for Culver rings. Yet, no amount of ceremonies, legacies, Dr. Power, the same or Culver bling can make anyone more Culver than words of advice he the Buxtons and the legacy they are leaving behind. All received from a soph- parts of Culver will miss the Buxtons sorely. From the omore Humanities chocolate covered strawberries at Buxton open-housclass several years ago. es, the “tower of terror” speeches, to the simple joys Mr. Buxton assures us of spotting them at sporting events, all school meetthat it was some of the ings, and of course the revered graduation speeches, best advice he has ever Culver will not be the same without the Buxtons. But, received. He states, as the saying goes, “the only constant is change,” and John Buxton “They told me: learn so Culver must move towards change, lest we remain the school by walking stagnant. The Buxtons have brought much change to around and meeting people . . . before you make any this campus, but a fresh new perspective is not unwelimportant decisions put yourself in our shoes. Remem- come. If there is one thing that is certain to remain in ber what it was like to be a student . . . A third point the hearts of the Buxtons, it is that no matter where was make sure you get plenty of sleep and you eat well they roam, “tis Culver, Culver, Culver.”

“We’ll fix it.

They don’t know they need to be fixed yet.That’s what we’ll do.”

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photo Alfred Eisenstaedt

Arielle Pare

Culver Secrets 5th Classmen

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ost in the sands of Culver time is the story of those boys who spent a total of five years on campus before graduating. And no, they were not simply held back. They were the Fifth Classmen, affectionately titled “the worms,” and they made a significant contribution to this school’s rich past. The story begins in 1924, when the first eighth graders in Culver history were admitted; fleeting mentions of the cadets appear every so often in old Culver resources such as the Alumni magazine and the Vedette. However, in the midst of World War II, the school decided to discontinue the program, only to reintroduce it in 1952 and end it once and for all in the eighties.

The Fifth Classmen first resided separately in numerous buildings on campus (including the old North and East Lodges where the current Math and Science Building exists) with live-in supervision; not until the year of 1960 did they integrate with the older boys, starting with the Infantry companies.

Despite living apart, the Fifth Classmen had their own branch insignia, class-

Features wide social activities, and an independent athletics program with other junior schools in the surrounding area. In old Vedette issues, a fifth-class news column was even temporarily established. Old friends of Culver may perhaps remember a golden era for the fifth class from 1954-1960, when they were supervised and cared for

by Major Glenn Coleman and his wife Grace in East Lodge, an esteemed couple acting in loco parentis for the young cadets.

school. But the steeply dropping rate of five-year graduates was a strong argument to discontinue the extra year.

An estimated thousand cadets started their Culver career in the eighth grade; only about a quarter of them, however, had the boasting privilege of all five years under their polished belts (only seven of the twenty-nine men who attended the eighth grade in 1981 graduated). By the spring of 1988, the era of the Fifth Classmen ended forever as the last—and meager number—of the remaining Fifth Classmen walked Alfred Eisenstaedt’s photos in the through the Iron Gate.

Crisp Art Center’s current “Three American Photographers” exhibit, Since my father happens to be a such as the amusing example pictured former Fifth Classman himself (Paul may suggest that life as a Fifth Class- Paré ’67, Company C), I decided to man was all fun and games. However, ask him to reminisce about his exevidence suggests that the integration periences in the class 54 years ago. to units in the barracks had some un- This is what he had to say: intended consequences. They were under the command of older boys “Immediately before winter school I and, at age 13, felt the full force of had been a camper officer on the regthe plebe system that would likely imental staff at the eight-week Woodbe considered too harsh today. Up- craft Camp, so the winter school plebe per classes did, in fact, give the Fifth system was a big descent from dignity.

Classmen a hard time; a longtime The plebe system was rigorous, and staff member said she often saw the that’s putting it mildly. Shined shoes “worms” in tears. Five year survivors and shined brass was a very big focus, (such as Bill Shen ’85) expressed their very strict. We were soon issued a concerns that five years at Culver was semi-automatic M1 Garand rifle, the indeed “a fairly long time,” and some standard weapon of the foot soldier even supported the abolishment of of WII and Korea.The only thing missthe eighth grade themselves. ing from the weapon was the firing pin. I had a fine counselor in Company Questions about the fifth class espe- C, German instructor Martin Uebel. cially began to arise when Mary Fran- Major Glenn Coleman was good to us ces England sought to create what by scheduling games, home and away, would then be the Culver Academy for social activities, and arts and crafts acGirls. In her book “Culver Daughters tivities. My fondest moments were on Sing Thy Praise,” she discusses the var- the athletic field, in class, lunch, or anyious opinions on the subject: whether where the fifth classmen gathered as a to continue, enlarge, reduce, or abol- group. I have to admit that as I was a ish Culver’s eighth grade—or even day student it was easier to deal with whether to create an entire junior the five years at CMA.”

Features

Ashley Trube

11 After a long day of watching these athletes compete, one lesson is clear: these athletes have triumphed more House panel on People with Intellec- challenges and overcome greater probtual Disabilities. Now, in less than 48 lems, than most others ever will. It is exceedingly clear that years, what once discipline and dedwas a summer ication is the mancamp, has turned tra that all who into an internacompete here live tional event hostby every day, and ed in over 170 I am glad to say countries with that even for those over 4.5 million who will not go on athletes. Today, the to compete at the Special Olympics national level, the offers year-round Athlete Oath Special Olympics training and comhas positively influpetition in over 20 events to both children and adults that enced these lives, and given these people a chance to compete in events they have disabilities. never would have otherwise.

Led by Susan Westman, the event coordinator for special Olympics How were you first introduced to SpeMarshall-Starke Counties at Cul- cial Olympics? ver, Special Olympics at Culver has been operating for several decades. Westman: My brother was diagThe afternoon’s events began with nosed with autism, so I came as a the 10 meter assisted walk, the 25 kid to watch him compete. meter wheelchair race, and the long jump.The javelin throw, 400, and 800 How long have you been volunteering meter dashes were coming up soon. at Special Olympics?

Spectacularly Special Olympics

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he weather is better than it has been all spring - 78 degrees and virtually no wind, crowds begin to walk to the blue track in their purple shirts.

Hundreds of people of all backgrounds, abilities, and strengths gather to celebrate and inspire the coming of a new, more unified generation - fighting the victimizing and hate against those with intellectual or physical disabilities. At 2 in the afternoon, the five members of the Culver Color Guard stand at attention in the blue track area. Silence falls over the crowd of volunteers, parents, and athletes. As the Culver flag drops, Angela Miltich, a senior in Ciel, sings the national anthem.After her stunning performance, the Color Guard marches off.

The Special Olympics was founded in 1968 by Eunice Kennedy Shriver.

Beginning as a summer camp in her own backyard, she fought to eliminate discrimination and the unfair way that those with mental disabilities were treated. She eventually became a part of President John F. Kennedy’s White

“Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.”

W: I have been volunteering with Special Olympics for three years, but I have been attending for much longer than that. I began volunteering as soon as I was old enough.This year, I was the event coordinator for the Culver Special Olympics for Marshall-Starke Counties.

What is the best part about hosting?

Volunteering?

Photo by Ashley Trube

W:The most rewarding part is getting to see the joy on their faces, first hand.

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Photo courtesy Brent Raver

going to march over to BRC? How will PI and Duties work?” Some even took it upon themselves to go to Mr. Buxton, but that didn’t go well at all.

The moving day came and went.

Most of the bandsmen found that the rooms were not as bad as they thought they would be. Jack Turnquest stated, “We had our own bathrooms with a bathtub which was nice . . . other than that, walking anywhere else on campus sucked” and “whenever the hen I heard that someone in Band got OC walked around he would open the door walk into bedbugs, I just groaned. I mean, let’s the room, shine a light in your face and scare the crap be real here: Band already wasn’t do- out of you.” Even though the students were pessimising well at all. We tic about the whole process, the hadn’t gotten a Regimental Banner in, We had our own bath- adults seemed strangely optimistic. well, ever this year, already more than They wanted Band to take it as a rooms with a bathtub five kids had been kicked out or left, lesson and a great way to show our and with the added pressure of acwhich was nice...Other brotherhood. Throughout the week ademics, military bearing, and actual and a half, though, they were right. than that walking to musical playing, nothing was looking up.

We unfortunately did have PI, inanywhere on campus spections and, yes, we had to march At first only one room had bedbugs.

The school took care of the room sucked... to BRC. The strangest thing is that and made sure that it wouldn’t pop up most of us were pretty happy with again, or so we thought. Fast forward a it. We were woken up by bugles -Jack Turnquest couple of months, and we found ourboth the instrument and Keepher’s selves facing another pandemic. This car horn -- we marched with stride time, however, six rooms were infested. Facing a lack of and vigor as we raced to beat the girls to the dining hall, room in the barracks and more possible cases, it was time and we were put to bed one night by a ten-person echo to take action. taps around the campus. Steven Muthart described his shift in attitude by stating, “I went from being appalled However none of us thought that action would be taken to effervescent!” in the form of a near exile from the rest of campus in rooms that always seemed just a tad too hot and a bit too Even though we were once again handed some of the cramped. Many bandsmen had some concerns. Nothing toughest tasks, Band has taken it and run with it. I think that too serious, just things like, “What about homework? the adults were right when they were being optimistic; this There isn’t Wi-Fi at the motels, what will we do? Are we has been a true way of showing our brotherhood.

Caleb Ricketts

W

The Long March

NEWS

News

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Vivian Wang

Construction Chaos Causes Consternation

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s the school year gradually draws to an end, near dorm construction is still going on busily at a quick pace. For the new school year, the eighth dorm of CGA (Harbor) will be added into the building and some of the other old new dorms be renovated. The addition of Harbor means that all CGA dorms will be about 8 to 10 people smaller, but the size of CGA as a whole will rise.

ond floor corridors of Court, it meant that construction has finally shifted to the other half of Harbor.The showers will be replaced with new and improved ones, however, CGA girls have to use other dorm’s showers until the construction is done.

“It is annoying to have to walk all the way to Atrium,” commented Brittany Isaacson. Many girls choose to walk to Atrium, instead of upstairs or to showers on their own floor, in order to “Showers will be CLOSED. Starting shower because of the nice facility, but from tomorrow.” When multiple no- this also brings with it the “long jourtices were posted in the first and sec- ney” of going downstairs and crossing Moncrief. It is very inconvenient because Moncrief is a common area for both CMA and CGA students.

Girls walking to Atrium must dress properly, where in most cases they would have to put on only a towel. Besides this, construction also brings some new people into the dorms.

Some days

Cartoon by Reina Carroll

Photo courtesy Peter Talbot

the construction workers would show up in the hallways. These workers are always very friendly, however, some girls find this a bit unusual and a hassle.

In addition to the indoor renovations, Argonne is also reconstructing the main entrance. Because of this, gates were built around it, which blocks a path from the Legion Memorial building to the near dorm entrance. “Once they took it away in the winter and it was so much easier to walk around campus!” said a near dorm student.

Unfortunately, a few weeks later it was put back. Therefore, students have to walk around the large, blocky gate to reach the dorm entrance again.

Even though there are some problems going on in the near dorm, these are only temporary problems. As long as students and people engaging in construction hold a mutual understanding, things will go better and better. All of the construction is for a new and improved dorm which all of CGA is excited about, and although the new ‘Harborers’ will face difficulties in the future, it is sure to be an adventure.

14

News

Destini Pimental

Q&A with a Member of Environmental Services

S

ometimes, we as students forget exactly how much the staff impacts our lives on campus. Environmental Services not only help the campus stay clean and beautiful, but also quietly support us through our own Culver journeys. Destini Pimental interviewed a staff member often seen taking care of the girls in Linden and Ithaka, Maureen LaFaive.

Q: How long have you worked here?

I started working here in August 2010 after falling in love with Culver when my grandson attended Woodcraft Camp in 2007 and 2008. I originally wanted to work part time with the horses, or in an office, but a full time custodial position at Linden and Ithaka dorms opened up and I discovered I loved it. I enjoyed watching the girls get their riding boots on and head for the stable for their lessons. It was

very nostalgic for me since I spent most of my after school hours at a riding stable in Quincy, MA at that age. How I would have loved to be a student here when I was 14! This has turned out to be a very pleasant “sunset career” for me, and though I am almost 67, I hope to be working here several more years. Culver has given me opportunities to increase my physical fitness through Run Class, Rowing, Canoeing, the Max Move, and the job itself, which is very physically demanding. Working with young people makes me feel young. The girls inspire me with all the activities they participate in, and this has led to “renewing my youth” with the opportunities I have been given to participate in a modified version of what they do. I only wish I could attend some academic classes and ride a Friesian!

beautiful campus. The buildings remind me of New England where I am from. The many moods of Lake Maxinkuckee fascinate me. I especially remember an early October afternoon paddle out on the placid lake on my tangerine paddleboard observing the brilliant fall foliage of the campus from the water’s vantage point.

Q. What does Parents’ Weekend mean to you?

As a custodian, it means working extra hard to get ready for our guests. The campus is a flurry of activity in the days leading up to Parents’ Weekend. It is exciting to see the parents enjoy a weekend of special activities and observe the classes and events, especially the Garrison Parade. Sometimes I feel like I have 95 daughters. Besides getting Q.What is your fondest memory? to know and care for the girls and cleaning up after them, I am proud I love the scenery here on this of their accomplishments!

Come see Shrek the Musical this Thursday and Friday at 8:00 pm.

This musical, filled with fun and singing would be a great event to bring your parents to!

“I was so impressed! Bernie’s portrayal of Shrek was so good, he must have done accent work. Ethan Carter’s Donkey and Katie Bevil’s Fiona were hilarious. I must admit Devon also stole the show for me, her portrayal of the dragon was unique and very beautiful.”

Kia Vedel

photo courtesy Lew Kopp

15

Photo courtesy Daniel Woolfenden

Daniel Woolfenden

What Culver Hockey Means to Me

A

pril 5th 2016, 5:06pm that kept me off the ice for the first (on the way home from half of the season, I had never felt Natties), further away from myself. I wore that oppressive brace around camI know exactly how lucky I am. I pus and was relegated to the trainunderstand how I have truly won ing room for much of preseason the lottery of life. My family loves conditioning. While my teammates me and supports me uncondition- were growing together, I was forced ally. I have friends who confide in to work alone. I felt like an outsider me and whom I can confide in. I for the first time from the commuam healthy and have been bless- nity that I was closest to on camed with a passion for hockey. Too pus. The longer I spent in the brace many people my age have yet to and off the ice, the more I felt I was unearth their true passions. I also growing apart from the team, the understand the insignificance of my more inside jokes they made withstruggles. I understand that every- out me, the more they struggled one has their own problems and and grew without me, and the more compared to others, my struggles I began to question my passion for are truly minute. hockey and my belonging amongst my teammates.

That being said, I found myself in a dark place earlier this year. My pas- While I was in the sling, I despised sions seemed to be further away the prospect of playing junior than ever, and I began to forget how hockey. The thought of just playing uniquely and truly fortunate I was. hockey for a year was daunting to Struggling with a shoulder injury me. This sentiment influenced my

college application process. The schools with weaker hockey programs and strong academic promise were the most appealing to me.

I wanted nothing more than to graduate from Culver, and next fall, find myself as a hockey player at a small division three college. I was prepared to let hockey move from one of my top priorities to a more insignificant role in my life.

The magnitude of realigning of my priorities was truly profound. If not for hockey, I would not be here at Culver, and before coming here it was the dominant entity in my life.

I had little social life in Seattle because my time was commandeered by hockey and school. It was my life, and I loved every minute of it.

I didn’t care that the only genuine friends I had were on my hockey team or that my “friends” at school wouldn’t ask me to hang out, for they already knew the response: “I

SPORTS

continued on p. 17

Sports

16

photos courtesy Connor Ventling

Kia Vedel

S photo courtesy Dane VanDeVelde

Setting Sail

ailing is somewhat of an undervalued sport here at Culver. The free spirits who love to chill and just lay on the water. At least that what I thought when I and another senior girl practically demanded two poor second classmen to take us sailing one cold day in April.

The wind blew hard, but neither of us newbies noticed as we failed to see why this would make a difference. Somehow, we ended up on two separate boats, being – in sailing jargon – “crew”. This was momentarily distressing for me as only a week has passed since I had decided to end my time in Mr. Weaser’s boathouse. I walked into the water towards the boat, pleased with the lack of oars, but extremely displeased with 35 degree water making me regret the whole endeavor.

regret throwing off the bowlines and navigating our way into the world of sailing. The rush of leaning halfway out the boat in heavy wind on the waves of Lake Max is a memory to treasure forever. Personally, I will cherish the times spent in the water. I never thought you could sail recklessly, until I sailed with my skipper; and I am proud to say I went in the water almost every day of my short Culver sailing career.

The short story of my sailing: Two seniors went on a run in the beginning of spring, demanded to be sailed around by juniors, and afterwards spent our spring there nearly daily.

Abby Surrisi and I decided to cross off a Culver bucket list item together: sailing Lake Max. Perhaps one of the best decisions of my Culver career. I never appreciated Culver more than I did when sitting on the Abby Surrisi and I will never lake looking at our shores.

17

Sports

Hockey (cont.) can’t I have hockey.” While in the sling, that omnipotent passion for the game slipped away from me.

Know that losing a passion is not easy.You find yourself trying to fill your time with new “passions.” I dove into school, working tirelessly for self-gratification through academic success. I exhausted myself. Without hockey as a release in my life, the stress of school, college and Culver in general had settled, and, like dregs in a bottle, started to collect inside of me. Failing to recognize this at the time, I remember being so upset and dejected without any reason or explanation. Characterizing myself as a very grateful person, I am aware of all that I have to be thankful for. So understandably, inexplicable discontent is piercingly troublesome for me.

As the season is concluding, I am relieved to report that my passion for hockey has been revived. It wasn’t until this morning at around 2:00am on April 4, 2016, (the night before the national championship) that I realized what my teammates had unknowingly done for me. By being themselves, they made me feel a part of the team I had lost touch with, and they reminded me why I love hockey.Throughout the season their support on and off the ice has been fostered the rebirth of my passion for the game I love. It was the conversations in the back of the bus on roadies, Jack and Rune’s corn jokes, Cripe’s endless feud with Biss, hotel room poker games, all-you-can-eat sushi, or something as simple

as a ritualistic tap on the pads. It was these moments and countless others that made me realize that nothing makes me feel more alive than stepping on the ice with my brothers for three 17-minute periods of the purest form of expression we have.That is what Culver Hockey means to me. It is a group of guys bound tightly through shared struggle and memories, working tirelessly for a common goal, all the while u n k n ow i n g ly giving each other the support to endure any ugliness on or off the ice.

This unique camaraderie is what transcends Culver Hockey...

Daniel Woolfenden

What is the purpose of this essay?

Through our shared struggle and the absolute necessity of the game, we build a belief that we are bound tighter than any other organization on campus. This unique camaraderie is what transcends Culver Hockey, and will be what I miss most after I walk through the Iron Gate on May 29th. My hope is that by sharing what Culver Hockey means to me, others will be able regard hockey players through a clearer lens. For, as a hockey player, I feel that the one I am seen through has been clouded by the reputation of my predecessors. You are familiar with the stereotypes that follow my teammates and me around on campus. You’ve all heard of the words of caution uttered to the new girls upon their arrival or witnessed our lulu shorts, obsession with natties, or our slow pace on the way to class associated with an overinflated self-image that the hockey players seem to possess.

Yet hockey goes beyond these stereotypes as well, as I tried to show here. I recognize that hockey is a crucial part of who I am and how I identify myself. However, it is not so unlike the passions that others have. Many people are fortunate to have something in their lives that means so much to them that its absence would rock the foundations of their identity. I encourage everyone to keep an open mind about hockey players, for hockey serves that integral purpose in our lives.

18

Photo courtesy www.huffingtonpost.com

an alien that had no business being on Earth that only wreaked havoc.

Enter seasoned vigilante Batman to ask the question on everyone’s mind: “Do you bleed?” Fans of The Dark Knight Returns get an added bonus as they see their favorite fight brought to the big screen with as much flare and CGI as one could only expect.

Kary Stevick

Batman v Superman The Ultimate Show Down

B

efore you look away from this article, mumbling something to yourself along the lines of “it didn’t look like a good movie anyways”, “Ben Affleck as Batman?

No thank you”, or “I fell asleep in the theater”, I would like to point out that Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice had a worldwide opening of $422.5 million, making it the biggest opening for a superhero film and the fourth biggest opening of all time worldwide. To put that in perspective, Marvel’s Captain America: Civil War only made $379.6 million, making it the 11th.

Batman v Superman serves as a sequel to DC’s (disappointing) Man of Steel. The movie did a good job of quickly reintroducing

Batman’s origins, before throwing in crazy dreamed alternative universes and a special visit from the future Flash. Lois Lane served her role as damsel in distress as perfect as any other Superman movie -- with an added twist of fighting against Lex Luthor dthis time.

Various Justice League members were neatly and quickly introduced into the DC cinematic universe, such as Wonder Woman, Cyborg, and Aquaman.

The movie did a wonderful job of highlighting the main reason Superman was created in the first place: aliens living somewhere they weren’t supposed to. Especially during the Syrian refugee crisis, the movie served as a reality check as human characters revealed their real thoughts on the Man of Steel --

One of the main critiques of the movie is that it jumps around a lot.

Scenes cut from dream to reality, from character to character, from time to time, in a way most movie-goers aren’t used to. Most critics were looking forward to a superhero movie that progresses the same way as most Marvel movies do, and were met with a surprise. Batman v Superman wasn’t trying to copy the Avengers; it is set up like the comic books the storyline and characters are taken from.

People looking for a light superhero movie a la the Avengers are met with a gritty and realistic look at the superheroes they know and love. Batman v Superman raises question about the morality of heroic actions and deeds, and the limits of governments and technology.

All in all, compared to the disaster that was Man of Steel in regards to script writing and character development, Batman v Superman serves as an excellent sequel and set up for the DC movies yet to come.

ENTERTAINMENT

Entertainment

19

Peter Talbot

Limberlost Book Review

“L

imberlost,” a short story published by recent visiting author and Indiana resident Kelcey Ervick, blends Indiana literary lore with what begins as a humorous relationship between an unnamed first-person college professor and one of her rather frazzled students, Becky. Set in a fictional Indiana town not far from the famous Limberlost Swamp for which the story is named, the narrative follows a young woman set on both her ability to earn her PhD and her supposed ability to leave the cramped Indiana town in which she finds herself.

ing to survive the bleak oblivion of Indiana winters, to the mess of ungraded papers that inhabit the unnamed professor’s apartment, Ervick’s writing feels confessional in its details and near fearful in its plot.

As the name of the short story implies, “Limberlost” follows some conventions of the book, A Girl of the Limberlost, a well-known proto-feminist novel by Gene Stratton-Porter surrounding the famous swamp. Ervick’s main character makes reference to characters from the book throughout the piece, making direct connections between Ervick’s prose is modern.

Becky and the main Photo courtesy kelceyervick.com character of A Girl of the The youthful academia of the young PhD hopeLimberlost, Elnora Comful can be felt throughout stock. Both characters the piece with splashes are slightly out of place, of humor that give life to disconnected from their both Ervick’s characters own worlds. Given the and the setting. While length of the piece, it the humor is occasionis unfortunate that the ally strained, I found mygrowth of Elnora Comself laughing nervously stock from a timid young as one does at the jokes girl out of sync with the of the “young and thererest of the world into fore cool” teacher or someone confident in professor. Ervick is not, her own skin is not able Kelcey Ervick, Author of Limberlost and Liliane’s Balcony however, strapped down to be seen in Becky of by her ability to crack “Limberlost.”

Perhaps jokes that would put smiles on teachers’ faces and the connection between the two characters can be make students groan. The tone changes as the story taken as a “choose your own adventure” reading. Simprogresses, movingfrom a lighthearted entailment to ply skip from page seven of “Limberlost” to the midsomething with much more piercing emotion. This dle of A Girl of the Limberlost to see Becky become the transition is much needed, just as the story begins to woman she deserves to be (100 years in the past). lag, and the reader begins to wonder why they are still reading about a college professor at yet another unin- “Limberlost” is a story of surprisingly biting feeling spiring Indiana town, Ervick allows raw human emotion marked with refreshing prose that does not take itto shine through the otherwise mundane corn fields. self too seriously. Author Kelcey Ervick delivers readers with a heartfelt story of humor and fear The main character is so full of life that it feels almost wrapped in a nice bow that will surprise readers with autobiographical. Perhaps not in in the main struggle the actual contents. Visit Kelcey Ervick on her webof our unnamed protagonist but at least in the shared site at www.kelceyervick.com to learn more about challenges all young professors must face. From try- her and find more of her award winning writing.

20

T

Isadora Dooley Hunter

Red

he scars they gave us still burn in the sun. Like a fleeting patch of shadow on this red land, they are hard to trace – where the familiar ends and the darker, tauter, harsher flesh begins. I find myself stumbling upon things I’ve known since childhood, only to find them imperceptibly altered, tinged with some foreign colour as though to test if we’d noticed. The earth between my toes is still the same; rich, warm, cakey clay. The very same which I hurled at my brothers as a child, slinging sticky handfuls of the stuff at one another in the shallows of the river.

My feet sink into the warm damp clay as I wade through these same shallows. Rusted metal poles and jetties rise up out of the mud like remnants of a lost world.This is where they used to dock, here at this bend in the river, where the water flattens and sweeps the shores like a brush.The few gum trees that line the banks are old and gnarled, the same that my grandfather sat under when he was a boy, as I did. Further on, I can see the first few buildings of the new town, dirty white under the blanket of dusk. There are a few children on the other side of the water, sitting cross-legged in the ochre dirt. I watch as they fashion makeshift toys out of old coke bottles and twine, their gaudy European football shirts a blot on the horizon of browns and blues. I am reminded of the way we used to dig for rocks on that same riverbank in my youth, running home to our mothers to show them our simple treasures.

Only now, my mother’s house is built with brick. It smells clean and empty and clinical, the white walls smooth. They tell us they’re secure, although I often catch her staring out across the garden to the clay huts of her former life, still defiantly clustered together on the verge of the gum tree grove. Even now, my nostrils fill with the smell of them, the way the clay seemed to turn even the hot air red, and the smells of spice and heritage and life that pervaded the spaces of my childhood. She claims to prefer it here – the ants don’t come in as they used to, she says. The corporation even brought her a radio, but the instructions were in a foreign tongue, and besides, she couldn’t have read them if she wanted to. Instead, the cheap plastic merchandise takes pride of place on her new windowsill, where the dust of the earth clogs the speakers and coats the antennae.

Yesterday, my young daughter caught me crouched in the dirt outside our old home with a jagged dagger of glass, pinching and prodding at my features with fingers dampened by the angry tears flowing freely from my eyes. She too cried when the shard sparked hot drops of blood from the fingers she had stretched out towards the sliver of her face, held like a mirage in that sparkling fragment. I held her then, praying, because I knew that soon she would grow older, and her reflection would make her bleed in more ways than this.

The wound will heal, of course. I’ll clean it and bandage it and sing her to sleep with the songs my mother sang me.

But it will scar – a white barb on her black skin, and one day soon these wounds will begin to stain her mind.

I want to show her the landscape of my youth, before the big buildings and the corporations and these westerners and their white men ways. Because now the white men are in my mind and I am caught in a terrible dance of delight and disgust with my own people – with my own self. The gum tree groves, the red houses, the pure, deep earth, the knowledge that our lives were all they were meant to be – no more, no less.This is what it was like before. Before the

CREATIVE WRITING

21

Creative Writing Andrea Gonzalez Canseco

Clare Nowalk

Wonderland

Your Quiet Voice

Now I am in wonderland Where time goes backwards, And stops, then flies.

I fit into rabbit holes, And get confused for a flower.

A cat talks to me About enchanters and dragons.

I try to find a path, But I don’t know where to go.

The guy in the hat Tries to tell me a joke.

I’ll be here forever If I don’t wake up.

But this is not a dream, At least that’s what I’ve been told.

Your quiet voice is so damn loud.

Whispering across beams of silence, It wriggles its way into my ears, telling me stories Of conquering fears That it’s witnessed over the years, and Your quiet voice is so damn loud.

Time The businessmen race their rabbits While I slowly ride my turtle.

They fix their ties and suits While I enjoy the rising sunrays.

Yeah sure, they’ll make wonders, But I live in them.

They talk to bosses and salesmen, And I learn the language of gnomes and eagles.

Though they might all own boats and mansions, They hardly ever use them.

For I own the most rare gemstone.

The time to swim in the sky and fly under rivers.

Searching for solace from the screams That echo across the chasm of your heart, It remains but a powerful breathe of hope.

Turning wrong to right, Night to light; It chases the tails of its foes, bundles them up, and Makes them tremble at the might Of your voice…

Because your voice, Your quiet voice, Is just so damn loud.

There is strength in weakness And I only wish to listen to what weakness has to say Because at the end of today I want to know how to say What I feel, What I believe, And why it means Something to me Without straining My voice.

Red (cont.) war on our world. Before the hatred broke into the dance. Before.

Across the river, I can hear the children shouting, laughing, using their plastic bottles to make-believe – first a telephone, now a missile, now a gun.Their cries are a jumble of our language and another; their voices drift lazily up into the smothering heat of evening.

22

Creative Writing Marina Fernandez de la Cuesta poems also get annoyed i often wonder if poems ever get annoyed. i mean, nobody likes to have to justify every single one of their actions. and there we are, digging so hard, expecting poems to have chosen words for a reason more valid than their own favoritisms. why can’t they insert a random ‘bananas’ word if they feel like it, without being questioned and interrogated: “what did you mean by ‘bananas’?”

why can’t they forget punctuation and go on and on letting the reader decide where the pauses should be made when it is time to stop without being asked: “what is the indirect purpose of your lack of punctuation?” if they want to write the most extensive sentences with endless run-ons, comma, splits and odd sentence structures that sense don’t make then they should because this is a free world and we should encourage them to be whoever they want to be so yes if they’d be happier using made up words and broken sentences then go ahead poems you do you maybe poems are like teenagers. their frontal lobes aren’t yet completely formed so they make irrational choices like using urban vocab to acquire some swag or inventing new words within the crampness of their lines.

23

Creative Writing Kia Vedel The Fine Print I don’t remember signing on to love my family.

Under my grandmother, I remember no small print Explaining that she would be gone too soon: **And with unlimited love and amazing food this woman will be essential to your childhood, but someday she will leave you** How did I miss this part?

This woman cared for me when I was sick, Took me swimming, And taught me to play cards.

I only see Danes on my family tree, And my grandmother’s family can be traced back to the same town for generations: The butcher family, A profitable trade.

My Grandmother Decided to break the cycle.

Accepted to the school of teaching, She planned to leave her home, To follow her dreams, Something not many women had the opportunity to do.

Tragedy struck, And, left to support her little brother alone, She took over the butcher shop.

At 18, Running a business, She put little brother through school.

Ida, The matriarch of the Vedel family, The unapologetic powerhouse.

On her 75th birthday, We officially crowned her “Queen.”

She taught me it was okay to break the rules, So I shouldn’t be surprised, That she never gave me the chance to bow out, And be spared the loss.

No, Fine print be damned, I never had a choice.

I always loved her.

Clare Nowalk

Problematic In a fraction of a second, You divide my head.

You subtract time: Spinning stories, Adding attitudes, Factoring figments, Counting sheep, And watching As I descend into madness And my calculator bangs against the wall.

Only the Poet Knows

Only the poet knows the way through old forests And how to collect dew drops From the leaves of golden branches.

Only the poet knows how to paint the sunset red And what’s behind the moon beams Drifting up ahead.

Only the poet knows how to swim beneath the sand Or how to clutch pearls In the palms of tiny hands.

And only the poet knows what to do when days are dark And how to light up a nation With words instead of sparks.

24

Creative Writing

Kia Vedel

B

Dog Tags

ullets pierce the dry, stale air. The projectiles fly from their metal cabinets in search of men.

They cut the space in which he stood a second ago. Lying on the sandy ground, he hears his team yelling for backup. The stale air fills with dirt, as boots run away from the bullets. “It’s an ambush! Take cover! Take cover!” The dust fills his nose and mouth. He gasps for air, while the noise of gunshots vibrates through the air. The supposedly abandoned village housed a deadly trap. The dust from his impact with the surface settles. He sees his dog tags lying a couple feet away. The bullet to his chest has broken the chain. He sees his name, but tears in his eyes blur the letters, and for a moment he sees his father’s.

The car door smacked, announcing the arrival of the two men. Impeccably dressed, they began their journey towards the picture-perfect suburban white picket fence house. One carried a heavy triangle-folded flag. The mother saw them from the window. The dinner plate smashed against the stone floor. The doorbell summoned the 5-year old to the door. Recognizing their uniforms he hopped up and down. A smile of youth, happiness, and innocence met the ones of sorrow.

Sobs sounded from the living room, while one man kneeled down next to the boy playing with his toys. As he got up, the child looked down in his little fist. The chain and tags. The last gift his father would ever give him.

The boy grew up knowing his father was a hero. He always carried the tags around his neck. They were his most valuable possession. He never took them off, and he often had nightmares of losing them. In these dreams, Michael ran to his father in heaven, but he could not recognize his son, saying he was waiting for his tags. Michael cried and screamed, but his father remained quiet. However, these nightmares stopped the day Michael walked into the enlistment office. He went through training always trying to please his father. He always worked to be better, to earn his own tags. When he got them, he attached his father’s. They were together in this.

As he kissed his family goodbye, he had an odd feeling. Looking at his 6 year-old son, he felt an odd sense of déjà vu. He saw himself from his son’s eyes. The strong father. The memory blurred with age, but Michael suddenly remembered his father’s last words: “I’ll be back before you know it.” The words pass his father’s and his lips simultaneously.

And as he lies dying, he looks at his tags lying a few feet away. He knows he can reach them. He knows what will happen tomorrow morning. A car door will smack; officials will notify his wife. A man will give his son the dog tags. Michael lies there knowing the tags sealed his fate. Every step he took, every road he travelled. He always consulted the medallions.

He wonders if his father had a choice about sending them back. If he used his last moments to grab the chain.

Michael knows time is short, and he has to make a choice: take the tags, or cover them in sand. Did his father send him on this path by grabbing the tags? This area is too dangerous to sweep thoroughly, so if he covers them they will never be found and returned to his family. Leaving them means no dog tags for his son. He won’t pass on his father’s legacy. Meeting him in heaven, his father will walk away in disappointment. Michael remembers all the nightmares of his childhood. Growing up without a father. Growing up trying to please this hero-figure. He hears his heart pounding in his ears.The fast beat cancels out the gun shots. In his last breath, he sweeps the tags under the sand.

Creative Writing

25

Sarina McCabe

Call Her Lev

L

et’s call her Lev. Her story is seldom told, even by those who remember. She was a size five in ballet flats, which spanned the length of the tip of her thumb to her pinky, and were the color of chewed bubblegum on pavement. At 6:35 each morning, she scraped her dishwater-blonde hair into a bun. Lev fit into a standard school locker without having to suck in her gut, and the widest part of her body was her shoulder blades. She possessed sharp features, fair skin, and eyes that shone like amber. My own stature was more athletic; my muscles hummed when I moved, and, unlike my friends, I could not fit pencils between my ribs. However, I was no less vertically challenged, and so I walked as though I was a marionette strung up by only the crown of her head. I had olive skin, which browned under the sun, and frizzy, chestnut curls that bleached out toward the ends.

Let’s also say that at seven o’clock, just as the sun began to rise, Lev and I met at the crosshair-intersection a block or two from my home. Cars, bicycles, and public buses darted left and right, missiles locked on a destination. As long as we hustled to the public bus stop, we would arrive in Old Town Klaipeda with enough time to be stretching in the studio by eight.

The bus seats snagged my clothes, oozing springs and curious odors. Beyond the smudgy glass, grey rain gamboled against the pavement. The bus heaved to a halt in the heart of Old Town, wheezing as it exhaled to the ground. We leapt from the top step as the glass doors shuddered open. Our Wellies squelched in the muck that blanketed the sewer drains at the curb.

Lev and I ducked our heads and scuttled away in our pink tights. Every girl and boy in Lithuania knew better than to dawdle by the Klaipeda port. If someone called out to us, Lev tugged me sharply by the wrist, and we fled.

Lev and I walked in strangled silence, communicat-

26

Creative Writing

Lev (cont.)

room, I slipped out of the front—and only—door and walked several paces down the hall, passing ing in the only way available—our hands. Lev was, dorm rooms with slivers of light shimmering in as the other schoolgirls put it, a Popov from the the thresholds.

Motherland. I was the blundering American, who for some reason unknown to God, found myself at I have, however, strayed from Lev’s story. As chance the same ballet barre in the same Russian dance would have it, my mother chose to ride the bus with academy every day for two lengthy years. It was me before school. It was not a day of any particular several months before my tongue melded to fit her importance, except perhaps that the weekend was language. Despite the barrier, Lev and I learned how a day nearer. When the bus skated to a stop, I sat to read one another. She had a singular dimple that beside my mother for several moments, reluctant quivered when she giggled. Baltiyskoye more, she’d to leave her. She brimmed with the warmth of a murmur, as we passed the port near the Baltic Sea. I mother, but she also cared about my education. She picked up a handful of other phrases over time, the shooed me off the bus, and I complete the trek to most important being prodolzhat’ khod’bu; keep school. I scampered past the port and was stretching at the ballet barre by eight o’clock. walking. Always keep walking.

Lev did not appear in school that day. I wondered if the shift in weather aggravated her sinuses, and she had somehow coaxed her parents into allowing her a day off. The silent walk home was foreign and uncharted without Lev by my side. Still, the sun reLet’s say one morning, my mother chose to ride the tired and the day faded into the past. The following bus with me before school. Despite her vague neu- morning, I walked to school alone. rosis, my mother made for a wonderful companion and conversationalist. I’m sure her “scrambled-eggs Later, only a few brave souls speculated about where brain” came from having two young children, as Lev had gone. Her parents were among them. Othwell as a husband, confined to two dorm rooms; ers tried to make light, hissing, skol’ko trash bags, not from any blaring fault in character. She was a or how many trash bags? I pretended not to underrather flighty woman who spoke as though words stand what that could mean. seared her tongue, and she had to rush them from her mouth. Enthusiasm and optimism trumpeted in Lev’s parents did not hold a service. Death, at that her every word. Most of my encounters with my point, was a crippling reality that no one was ready mother were in the living room or breezing through to face. Perhaps her parents never would be ready. town in search of novelties or bonding activities— The phantoms of Klaipeda port had more use for Lev than trash bags washing up on the dock. I conwhich we would later label misadventures. vinced myself that, if I could just wish hard enough, While most people speak of living rooms as a sin- Lev would come back. I closed my eyes and willed gle room within their house, I quite literally mean her back until my chest ached and my eyes were the room in which we lived. It was rather bland, tinged red. It wasn’t enough. with mismatched furniture and a kitchenette in one corner. The room transitioned from the cook- After forty-eight hours, Lev’s name faded into obing area, to the eating space (a rickety wooden scurity. It was shattered and lost to the breeze table with a few buckling chairs), and finally into that roamed the Klaipeda port. Her story left bethe common area. Our ‘living flat’ was sectioned hind a residue of sorts—a ghostly whisper—which off into separate rooms in the same way that Si- took form in two words. Prodolzhat’ khod’bu; beria experiences seasons. To reach the sleeping keep walking.

Despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that our talks were limited, I grew fond of Lev. She was serene and poised, but her eyes shone with a glimmer of wonder. I liked that.

Spring Musical

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More Photos From “Shrek: The Musical” With Thanks to Lew Kopp

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Class of 2016 Matriculation List Lauren Abaunza Oscar Alegria Christina Aliev Laken Alles Addyson Allyn Alizabeth Anderson Ean Anderson Judson Andonov Eduardo Araque Katy Arkell Mauricio Bailleres Heather Baumgartner Carla Benavides John Benner Nicole Bernhard Catherine Bevil Christopher Bilicic William Bilicic Madilyn Billings Frances Birkmeier Nicholas Bissonnette Alexandra Blackwell Harry Bogle Hannah Boland Kathryn Bowley Bailee Brekke Eric Burns Mia Carrera Reina Carroll Ethan Carter Yu-Chuan Chang Hao Wen Chen James Collins Reilly Combs Samuel Concannon Matthew Coughlin Colin Courtney Caitlyn Cowell Geoffrey Curtis Emma Davis Roberta Del Rio Peters Mingzhuo Deng Cole DeYoung Liam Diebel Evan Dillon

Furman University Southern Methodist University Chapman University Mormon Mission Trip/Seoul, South Korea Hanover College Bowling Green State University University of Richmond United States Military Academy at West Point/Prep School Loyola of Chicago University of Southern California Post Graduate Year/Loomis Chaffee School Ball State University University of Texas at San Antonio Indiana University Boston College University of Chicago Denison University Georgetown University Eastern Illinois University Michigan State University Junior Hockey/University of Waterloo/Canada University of Southern California University of Michigan Purdue University University of Ottawa/Canada Dartmouth College Loyola of Chicago University of Texas at Austin United States Naval Academy Purdue University Purdue University Purdue University Clarkson University Butler University Case Western Reserve University American University Yale University English Speaking Union/Hope College University of Denver Southern Methodist University Tecnologico de Monterrey Boston College Southern Methodist University Baylor University Indiana University

CLASS OF ’16

Class of ’16 Payton Disney Isadora Dooley Hunter Quinton Duquette Cheyenne Durbin Jordan Elfar Harrison Elliott Eleanor Ericson Chloe Fabi Shengwen Fang Hannah Farmer Lixiong Feng Marina Fernandez de la Cuesta Santiago Fernandez Montes Jose Figueroa Evan Fischer Chiara Fitzgerald Peyton Frank Peyton Frantti Adrian Garcia Anthony George Brodie Gillespie Andrea Gonzalez Canseco Asia Gordon Bruno Gracian Tapia Christie Gray Jessica Greenman Simon Griffith Shane Halfenberg Chaterria Harris Yuan He Yuanyuan He Joseph Henry Julia Hernandez Sarah Hickey Olivia Hirschy Morgan Hofferth Lauren Hutchison Lydia Jaqua Alex Johnson Michael Johnston Stuart Johnston Jacob Kanak Hunter Kephart Alexander Kerr Yeji Kim Clay Kingsbury Rune Kirby Michael Knowlton Emmanuel Koutsouras Sydney Kowalski Joseph Kroger Alexander Krupp

29 University of Indianapolis University of Cambridge/UK Purdue University Ball State University Iowa State University Johns Hopkins University Purdue University University of Vermont University of Washington/Seattle Taylor University University of California/Irvine Syracuse University Boston University Washington University at St Louis/Annika Rodriguez Scholarship English Speaking Union/Ball State University Indiana University Trinity University/Dublin, Ireland Junior Hockey/University of Missouri University of Arizona United States Military Academy/West Point Rutgers University Technologico de Monterrey/Mexico Hobart and William Smith Colleges Instituto Tecnologico Autonomo De Mexico Becker College Gettysburg College University of Alabama Antelope Valley Community College Marquette University/Evans Scholars University of Wisconsin/Madison Washington University at St Louis Texas Christian University Washington and Lee University/QuestBridge Scholar Babson College Utica College Butler University George Washington University McGill University/Canada Loyola University of Maryland Miami University McGill University Faculty of Engineering/Canada University of Notre Dame/4 year Navy ROTC Scholarship Indiana University/South Bend English Speaking Union/George Washington University Case Western Reserve University Carleton College/QuestBridge Scholar Junior Hockey/Miami University or TBA Texas Christian University DePauw University Southern Methodist University Chapman University Northwestern Prep/Indiana University

30

Class of ’16 Herman Kurrelmeier Max Lerman Ziqi Liu Bradley Long Angela Lu Meranda Ma Stephanie Ma Alexa Mahabeer Jesus Mancha Navarrete Harrison Manning Alexandra Martello Margaret McKinnis Jacob McMillen Dhruva Mehta Gabrielle Menard Matthieu Menard Angela Miltich Neri Min Zachary Moffett Patricio Munoz-Castillo Madison Murphy Steven Muthart David Nelson William Nicholson Michael Noronha Anne Nowalk Clare Nowalk Bryan Nzerem Chidi Nzerem Marin Oglevie Arielle Pare Ryan Patrick Daniel Paulin Miguel Perez Eugenia Perez Vallina Destini Pimental Ricardo Posada Nathan Prikkel Ryan Prior David Pumarejo Dominic Puzevic Miguel Quintanilla Giordano Robert Rabbitt Peter Rattray Hallie Rauch Caridad Ravelo Brent Raver Lauren Read Vincent Reynolds Adam Rhinehart David Rivas Taylor Robbins Joseph Roesler Andres Sada Erica Sadlowski

Indiana University Junior Hockey/University of Colorado/Boulder Case Western Reserve University Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology Fordham University Davidson College Whitman College Indiana University-Purdue University Tecnológico de Monterrey Carnegie-Mellon University/Navy ROTC Scholarship Lake Forest College Ithaca College Undecided University of Illinois Chicago Medical School University of Miami Western Michigan University Belmont University Wellesley College Wabash College University of Oregon Texas Christian University Iowa State University Miami University Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University University of Chicago St. Mary’s College Ithaca College University of Michigan University of Colorado at Boulder American University English Speaking Union/Indiana University Junior Hockey/TBA George Washington University Purdue University Texas Christian University Valparaiso University Villanova University Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology University of Michigan Technologico de Monterrey/Mexico Junior Hockey/Franklin Pierce University Technologico de Monterrey/Mexico Texas Christian University University in Edinburgh/Heriot-Watt Gettysburg College Xavier University Iowa State University St. Mary’s College Massachusetts Maritime Academy Pensacola State College Denison University Purdue University University of Southern California Instituto Tecnológico y de Estudios Superiores de Monterrey Elon University

Class of ’16 Amanda Setzer Emma Sexton Annie Shea Hsin-Fu Shen Joel Sherfick Meehan Shirey Tarynne Smith Jordyn Sorg Nicholas Springer Suraag Srinivas Marie Steiner Joseph Sterner Braden Stevens Kary Stevick Elizabeth Strati Yindong Sun Abigail Surrisi Riley Taets Brian Tao Ran Tao Joshua Thompkins Edward Thompson Anna Tompos Ana Maria Torres Cassidy Trammell John Turner David Uwajeh Reeve Vacendak Gemma Valdes Joffroy Alec Van de Bovenkamp Alexandra Vaughn Kia Vedel Regina Velarde Ethan Walker Ziyu Wang Yuqing Wang Jingqi Wang Natasha Wanless Jessica Ward Viviana Warnholtz Deck Lucille Weatherby Rosalie Whyte Madeleine Wildermuth Cole Winchester Daniel Woolfenden Anne Marie Wright Siyuan Xu Chaolun Xu Yunzhong Yan Madi Yermegiyayev Han Yu Ruofan Zhou Wenjin Zhu Ningyuan Zhu Lexie Zrelak

31 University of Kentucky Hollins College United States Naval Academy Boston University Indiana University Texas A & M Texas Christian University University of Phoenix University of Massachusetts at Amherst Georgetown University Hamilton College University of California-Berkeley Belmont University University of St. Andrews/Scotland/College of Wm and Mary English Speaking Union/Furman University Boston College DePauw University University of Denver Indiana University University of California/Los Angeles/UCLA Vanderbilt University Case Western Reserve University Lake Forest College George Washington University Southwestern Michigan College University of Detroit Mercy Illinois Wesleyan University Yale University/Navy ROTC Scholarship San Diego State University Furman University Texas A & M Askov Hoejskole/Denmark Case Western Reserve University University of Denver Indiana University University of California/Santa Barbara University of Southern California Concordia University University of Southern California Universidad Iberoamericana, Mexico City Gap Year University of Denver University of Denver Texas Christian University Junior Hockey/University of Washington Princeton University/Army ROTC Scholarship University of Southern California Emory University University of California/Berkeley University College of London/UK Whitman College Wake Forest University University of British Columbia University of California/Santa Barbara Indiana University

The Month in Numbers 8- Seniors upset by the photoshop errors in the Senior Dinner Dance panorama 104- New girls ecstatic to never have to flag-bear again 206- Seniors anxiously checking the forecast for Sunday on their phones 3,168- Recent grad attacks 34- Students who are still completing their homework 3297- “Frivolous” posts to All Current Students on Schoology 40- AP Calculus students who never want to do math again 3- Infamous milk balloons on Senior Skip Day (sorry, faculty) 4- People who still show up to Vedette meetings 131- Girls still awaiting their significant other’s final proposals 79- Boys still clueless how to ask their significant others to Final 27- Crew athletes slightly daunted by the double Mr. Weaser team this year 1- Corky extremely relieved to be finished with her worst class 161- Juniors actively training for the run to Beason 30- Students in theater still amused by the sight of Ethan Carter in a donkey suit 3- Seniors who still attended class on Skip Day 2- Seniors who regretted that decision 383- People crying from Isadora’s speech 8211- Unnecessary “down to lunch” invites 58- Faculty members experiencing their own version of Senioritis 309- Soon-to-be Culver students who don’t know the amazing adventures in store for them 2 - Members of the Class of 2016 who have been here for not four, but seventeen years