Student Voices

A New Mindset

BY HANNA ’21

Ilike to dream big and set the bar high with everything I do. I work hard to achieve whatever I determine the goal. The downside occurs when the goal becomes out of reach. If there is one thing that I have learned this year, it is that you never know what life is going to throw at you—but it all happens for a reason.

I love my family more than anything in the world; they would do anything to help me reach my dreams. My dad taught me how to skate when I was 4, and ever since hockey has been at the center of my life. I love the fast-paced, competitive edge needed to play the game. However, growing up in Utah, hockey is not a popular sport, let alone a popular girls sport. I played with boys. I always made the top boy team, and for two years I was invited to play on an all-girls tournament team based out of Vermont. At age 14, after my boys’ team competed in the USA Hockey National Tournament, my parents and I made the decision that I would go to the East Coast and attend a boarding prep school to pursue my dream to play in college.

With very little exposure to that part of the country, we stumbled upon Kimball Union Academy. The school had a beautiful campus, engaging staff, diverse student body, and strong hockey program. I instantly fell in love. Starting in my sophomore year, I settled well into the prep-school life of academics, sports, and friends. I looked forward to winter and the start of hockey season. With little experience playing with girls, I quickly differentiated myself with my size, strength, and physicality. I had been talking to coaches on both the D I and D III college levels, preparing myself for recruitment during my junior season. I worked very hard during the summer between my sophomore and junior years to prepare. I thought I was tough, but I found I am not invincible.

At the beginning of my junior year, I was required to play a fall sport, which ended up being field hockey. On September 18, I was defending a girl’s shot in a game. She followed through with a high stick. She nailed me in the chin and all I felt was a heavy thud. The girl who shot stopped cold, looked panicked, and asked if I was okay. With little pain at the time, I shrugged her off. I was determined to stop the other team from scoring—all I could think about was how I needed to keep playing. It was not until four minutes later, when the game ended, that I started to taste the blood. It was then I felt the panic flood in. I was not okay.

The trainers told me it was a mild concussion, that I would be back on the field in two weeks. When two weeks rolled around, I was still unable to read a book for five minutes without feeling like I was going to throw up. My main symptoms were nausea, headache, lightheadedness, and sound sensitivity. My pupils didn’t dilate the same, and my left eye would veer off. I could not even remember my own phone number. Eight weeks later, my Spanish teacher, who was also the dean of academics, told me that I was going to get an incomplete in my fall trimester classes. I could not believe it had come to this. I was far from home, struggling with school, feeling awful, and nowhere near able to play the sport I loved. I saw vision therapists and physical therapists and got prescription reading glasses. I was taking four pills a day to help with migraines, nausea, and head rushes. It felt like an endless road of Band-Aids and shattered dreams.

Needless to say, I was confused, frustrated, and alone. I was angry about the impact on hockey, school, dwindling opportunities, and my general well-being. One day I called my mom, upset and complaining. She told me to snap out of it, focus on what I can do and stop dwelling on what I could not. I realized I had been fixated on everything I was missing—and it was making me miserable. So, the next day I set out to change my mind set. I went to the art studio, somewhere I had never been before. It was calm inside and, as I walked through the door, I could feel some of the anger inside of me being lifted off my shoulders. I started going there every day. It was my escape.

I learned other things about myself. Being outside brings me joy and diving into cool water brings me peace. I enjoy helping others and was elected student body president for my senior year. As all-school president, I set out to create an environment that was safe and supportive for everyone, that showed people how to love KUA in the way that I love KUA. When social unrest starting happening in our country, I took it upon myself to really get informed and address it so I’d be comfortable talking about it. I worked closely with the Queer-Straight Alliance and the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusivity Committee and ran a workshop on Martin Luther King Jr. Day on white privilege and social bias. Last summer I took a neuroscience course at Stanford University through a Cullman Scholarship. It was probably the coolest experience I’ve had. It made me consider what else could I be doing if hockey wasn’t on the table in college.

These new discoveries within myself have helped to adjust my passion for hockey and the previous expectations of who I thought I should become and what my next steps would have been.

This experience has taught me that I am not a person to sit back and let things happen to me. Instead, I decide my attitude and my perspective each and every moment. Life is too short to be sad over something that may or may not change. This year I came to terms with that fact. I am proud of myself that I took the opportunity to look outside and learn more about myself. There is so much now that brings me joy, not just one sport. To this day I work to manage my symptoms and make an effort daily to find the joy and focus on what I can control. I often look back on that day in September, the day life threw me a major curve ball. Hockey will always be a part of me, but I am grateful for all I have now. K

Hanna is from Park City, Utah. She attends Western Washington University, where she studies ethics and neuroscience.

As she recovered from a concussion, this student-athlete discovered more resilient strengths and passions.

Neruda ’21 & Clyde ’22

Kimball Union prides itself on being a student-led school, one that enables students to identify the areas in which they want to focus their time and talents. Neruda ’21 and Clyde ’22 joined forces to create an affinity group for Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC). The BIPOC Affinity Group began meeting weekly, offering students a space to talk openly about issues and topics of importance in their lives and receive faculty and administrative support. The group offered a critical gathering space for students to discuss and process national and local social justice issues.

What inspired you to start the BIPOC Affinity Group?

Clyde: My dad is very big in activism. At work he’s been identifying internships for people of color. He’s helped me get the courage to get the club underway. We watch Black history movies together. We like to be well-informed and ready to help others. I had a conversation with my parents about how there wasn’t a space for people of color to talk about stuff. They said, “You should start one.” Neruda: When I applied here in 2017, I said in my interview that my goal was to create a space for students of color. I went to a predominantly white school before KUA, and I like having a space like that. I carry my Puerto Rican and Afro-Latino heritage proudly. That’s why I’m not afraid to speak up. My country has gone through a lot of things with a hurricane and with COVID. My grandmother in Harlem died of COVID. I’m blessed that I’m here right now, but I know where I come from. That’s why I do the things I do. I never take anything that I do here for granted.

What are the meetings like?

Clyde: The meetings are confidential, and you speak only if you’re comfortable. We start by asking how the week was, the highs and the lows. We clap for each other if we have a high in our week. We only had two people at the beginning, but then with word of mouth it started to grow. We had some people come at first because they saw we had pizza, but they listened and we talked about the election and one girl came up to me and said how much she appreciated it. Neruda: The affinity group includes some people who don’t identify as people of color. We sometimes start in a circle and also form small groups to talk among ourselves or if there’s a serious topic we want to talk about, such as the killing of another one of our Black men. The conversations range from week to week. They can be serious to warm to all laughs. Faculty have attended the meetings and shared stories. It’s good to hear their voices.

What has the group meant to you?

Neruda: It’s students speaking up. We’re learning people care about issues and our voices. I found connection through that meeting and now I’m even closer to people than I was before. It’s allowing people to branch out. With Clyde and I, our paths didn’t cross last year, but we’ve now become good friends.

What can KUA do to support you?

Clyde: We need more faculty of color. It can be hard having a white teacher teaching Frederick Douglass or Toni Morrison. Neruda: I’d like to see more students of color and someone working in the Office of Admission who looks like me, someone who makes me feel comfortable. The person who took me on my tour spoke Spanish to me and that made me feel welcomed. I’d also like to see more tour guides who are students of color.

What’s next for you and for the group?

Neruda: I want to call Clyde next year and hear how he’s doing, hear how the club’s doing. We have to carry this on so others can have it. I’m graduating and I want to come back and see change. We can’t do this by ourselves. It’s a question I asked on my college visits: Are there any affinity groups? Utica College is a pretty diverse community. I’m going to continue speaking up. K

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Campus clubs

From BIPOC to Ultimate Frisbee and everything in between.

Neruda ’21 and Clyde ’22 formed a friendship through a common goal of ensuring that students of color felt a sense of belonging at KUA.

New affinity group for Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) encourages a range of voices.