ID Volume 1, Issue 2

MISSION STATEMENT STAFF

ID Magazine seeks to provide the most accurate, relevant and important information regarding the identities of Ladue High School students and teachers. The staff will work to ensure ID is racially, religiously and economically inclusive, and that the publications are held to professional standards and employ current design trends within the journalism field.

Mac Huffman

Rory Lustberg

Annie Zhao

Arti Jain

Will Kodner

Grace Kweon

Cindy Liu

Michael Zegel

Kelly Zhang

Celina Zhou

Editors in Chief Photographer

Ella Bender

Ella Braig

Maya Mathew

Katie Mckatyn

Ishaan Pandey

Staff Advisers

Frank Chen

Sylvia Hanes

EDITOR'S NOTE

The end-of-class bell rings, and students pour out of each classroom, merging together messily in quite possibly the most diverse amalgamation of people there is: a high school hallway. Students clump together as they locate their friends. If a straggler lags behind, they are met with a sea of faces they may have never seen before. Blank stares are exchanged, usually awkwardly. Most avoid eye contact. People know nothing about each other and are often too uninterested to learn, consumed by their own bubbles.

In our inaugural ID magazine, we aim to represent Ladue’s broad community through stories of students and staff ’s unique identities. We feature a student who balances school with her modeling career, and a teacher through her immigration to the United States. We also focus on a student’s relationship with her faith in Judaism and sense of belonging as she transfers to different schools.

Sara Rohatgi

Ira Rodrigues

Nyla Weathersby

Vincent Hsiao

Lathan Levy

Sarah Kirksey

Abigail Eisenberg

ID aims to act as a bridge between people, creating an interconnected school community. We have had the immense privilege to learn about people’s identities, and we are so grateful to be able to share them through this platform. We hope that now, when you walk down the hallway, you recognize new faces, whether from a photoshoot spanning page 12, or an interview resting on page 27. When your eyes meet, we hope you exchange understanding. Respect. A smile. Thank you for reading, and welcome to ID.

Mac Huffman design & photo editor in chief

Rory Lustberg managing editor in chief

Annie Zhao copy editor in chief

The Ladue Horton Watkins High School Administration agrees to allow the Panorama staff to make content decisions and to operate as an open forum, provided they do not infringe on the rights of other students or create a substantial disruption at school as per the Tinker standard. The adviser will give advice to the students on staff and play devil’s advocate concerning controversial or sensitive material, but ultimately, the students have final say in what is published...

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Step By Step 04-09 10-13 A Lieutenant Colonel, a teacher, and a Lawyer Walk Into a Bar

and back cover by

Front

Mac Huffman. Editor's photo by Vincent Hsiao and photo illustration by Mac Huffman.

STEP BY STEP

Sahasra Mandalapu connects to her culture through her passion for Indian dance

Mac Huffman photographed by Ira Rodrigues

written by

SPREAD DESIGN

Every hand gesture and pose has a different meaning. Every expression reveals something new. During sophomore Sahasra Mandalapu’s dance performance, she tells a story. Each beat and each footstep brings an ancient tale to life, rich in illustration and possibility. As Mandalapu leaps across the stage, bedecked in sparkling gold jewelry and a colorful sari, this moment transports the audience to another world.

This is the magic of bharatanatyam dance, a 2,000-year-old classical Indian dance style.

Mandalapu’s passion for dance started at an early age. She began learning bharatanatyam at 7 and began learning ballet even earlier at 4. Now, alongside learning lyrical, jazz, hip hop and pointe, Mandalapu attends bharatanatyam lessons regularly and assists with classes.

“What I love about [bharatanatyam] and what makes it so unique to me [is that] not a lot of other people do it,” Mandalapu said. “It's the unique aspect of it that I like. I love dancing fast. The rhythm is so different from ballet, and I think that's what makes it interesting.”

Although Mandalapu has always had an affinity for dance, her motivation to begin attending classical Indian dance lessons came from the heart.

“[Dance] has given me a way to connect with my culture,” Mandalapu said. “My parents were raised in India, so it was different for them. I'm born and raised in the United States, so it's different here for me. It just gives me an opportunity to learn more about my culture and what makes it so unique.”

Currently, Mandalapu performs two bharatanatyam dances a year, which is what she has done since 2015. The preparation for these annual shows is grueling, since each dance takes a full year of dedicated practice to learn.

“[Bharatanatyam is] very intricate,” Mandalapu said. “You have to worry about what your hands are doing, what your legs are doing and where you are spacing-wise. You have to pay attention to all the details and especially the rhythm because of the music you're dancing to. If you do the steps, but it's not on beat, it ruins the image of it, and it ruins the flow of the dance.”

Learning all these dances takes time and motivation. Mandalapu’s mom, Syamala Komaravolu, has seen her commitment and diligence to it firsthand.

“Between ballet and bharatanatyam, [Sahasra] does about 12 hours per week [of classes],” Komaravolu said. “But if it is recital or performance time, from October to December, that will add another six hours. So, that means [she spends] close to 18 to 20 hours on dance [per week].”

Maintaining this schedule comes with challenges. It’s a balancing act Mandalapu has fine-tuned over the years.

“I try my best to manage my time [and make] sure that I prioritize things,” Mandalapu said. “Dance is very

important to me, but it isn't as big of a priority as other things, like making sure my grades are up, or studying and making sure I'm feeling confident in other areas. I try to make sure that I leave enough time to do everything in my schedule.”

Throughout Mandalapu’s dance journey, her parents have been a source of constant support, enabling her to stay dedicated despite challenges.

“We have to drive her, rain or shine; we have to take her even on snowy days,” Komaravolu said. “We always [try to be] with her, because it's her passion. Somehow we balance, and as parents, we are always there to drive her [and] support her wherever she needs.”

Famed bharatanatyam dancer Asha Prem has taught Mandalapu Indian dance since 2015. Asha began her company, Dances of India, in 1976 to teach and raise awareness about Indian culture. It is one of the oldest classical Indian dance companies in the United States.

“[Bharatanatyam] starts with basic foot positions, just like ballet,” Asha said. “Then we go into details of the footwork and hand movements, because the dance style is so disciplined in a sense. The beauty of the dance is it looks graceful when a person does it with very nice, stiff movements. If not, then it doesn't look good.”

Decades spent teaching students bharatanatyam has shown Asha that dance changes a person in several ways.

“In general, whether it's ballet or Indian dance, when a serious dancer walks into a room, you can always tell she's a dancer,” Asha said. “It just shows because of the gait, the posture, everything that comes with dancing. To get all those things, one has to dance practically every day.”

After years of mentoring Mandalapu, Asha has watched her develop into a talented bharatanatyam performer who has benefitted from the work she puts into learning different types of dance.

“I think [Sahasra] does practice, and then because she's learning modern dance and ballet, it adds to the body movements and everything,” Asha said.

Asha’s daughter, Nartana Prem, is a Ladue High School alum and bharatanatyam dancer who now helps her mom run the company. Like Mandalapu, Nartana has spent her whole life surrounded by dance, which means she has considerable experience in performing it.

“One of the reasons [bharatanatyam] was created was to convey the stories and mythologies and legends from India to people who couldn't read,” Nartana said. “Through our hand movements and expressions, [we] tell a story. What’s interesting is that in a dance, the stories will come alive. So, a story that is 2,000 years old can come alive right in front of your eyes.”

This cultural aspect of bharatanatyam is integral to the dance. Many performances that Mandalapu has done take inspiration from ancient Hindu mythology, and of-

ten reference different deities and their roles in Indian myths. This cultural connection has helped Mandalapu gain a deep understanding of her heritage.

“Through dancing, I've learned a ton of new stories about my culture that I wouldn't have learned before,” Mandalapu said. “I've been introduced to different aspects of my culture and different stories that have helped me through life. So, I would say bharatanatyam has definitely strengthened my ties with my culture.”

Back when Asha founded her dance company, there was little knowledge of Indian culture in St. Louis and scarce opportunities for people to learn about the types of Indian dance. Though there is more awareness now, part of Nartana’s role in the company is to adapt bharatanatyam to be understandable to a modern audience.

“At the performances, we try very hard to connect to a contemporary general audience because half of our audience is not Indian,” Nartana said. “People know about India, but they don’t really know about the art and culture. [So], we bring fresh approaches to mythology and stories to bring them alive.”

One way in which Dances of India has made bharatanatyam more accessible to a larger community is by choreographing traditional dances with a modern touch. Nartana worked closely with Mandalapu and other students to bring this vision to life in the annual show, and this experience has shown her how much Mandalapu has advanced in learning bharatanatyam.

“[Sahasra is] a very graceful dancer,” Nartana said. “I saw her in the Nutcracker this year as well. I think it's great that she's doing two different styles of dance. She's certainly grown as a dancer.”

Komaravolu has always been a staunch supporter of her daughter’s passion for bharatanatyam. She hoped that it would bring Mandalapu a closer connection and understanding of her culture despite growing up in America.

“Bharatanatyam is an Indian family dance,” Komaravolu said. “If you perceive India as your country and family, then it is [like] learning your family dance. With dance, they learn more [about the] culture behind it.”

One thing that Mandalapu has grown to love about dance is the community. Once mainly nonexistent in St. Louis, it now thrives because of the efforts of people like Asha and Nartana and the community’s support.

“We feel really grateful to the St. Louis community, the entire community, for supporting [Dances of India] for so many years,” Nartana said. “It's hard for a classical art that's foreign to survive anywhere, even for ballet. The classical arts always have difficulties. So, we're grateful that we're able to survive and keep going.”

In today’s day and age, much has changed about the awareness of foreign cultures and their dances. There are many more opportunities for classical Indian dance to find an audience, through the numerous cultural events

and community exhibits that are offered. For Mandalapu, the expanding dance community has allowed her to forge long-lasting friendships and new experiences.

“[The dance community has] a really strong community of friends and people that support me and that I can go to if I need anything, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to meet them because they’re such wonderful and talented people,” Mandalapu said. “Through them, I've had other experiences and other opportunities in the community. So, I've met a ton of other people through bharatanatyam that without [it], I wouldn't have been able to meet.”

In the future, Mandalapu plans to do an arangetram, a graduation dance that a bharatanatyam dancer completes to mark the end of their learning. It is typically comprised of eight dances, with each paying homage to a different aspect of a dancer's bharatanatyam journey.

“The graduation of dance is not the end of dance,” Asha said. “It's just that one is ready to portray oneself on the stage from then onwards, and work hard to gain more experience. When [some dancers] do the arangetram, they think it's all done. It's not done. That's just the beginning.”

According to Mandalapu, completing her arangetram is not the end of her passion for dance. While she isn’t certain about the future and her dance journey, it will always be an important part of Mandalapu’s life.

“I hope to be able to continue [dancing] in the future, because I will always have a passion for dance even if I don’t do it [as much],” Mandalapu said. “I have thought about dancing in college or taking classes whenever I can, but that isn’t set in stone just yet. Dance has always been a huge part of my life to this day, and I see myself trying to find a way to continue in the future.”

Captions: Sophomore Sahasra Mandalapu practices bharatanatyam choreography in class. These new dances will be performed in an annual show in February. Mandalapu found that practicing in class helped her overcome stage fright during her performances. “When [I] get on stage, I'm nervous I'm going to forget, even though I've done it for so long,” Mandalapu said. “There's still that littlebitofstagefright[when]Isecond-guessmyselfthatI don't know it enough, but I do because I've been practicing for a whole year.” (on pages 5-7)

Mandalapu uses one of the traditional hand gestures, or mudras, in bharatanatyam dance. For Mandalapu, perfecting the mudras was only one of the many skills that she had to master in order to perform well. “Someone who is really talented in bharatanatyam has to be able to listen to the music [and] beats and coordinate their footwork with [it],” Mandalapu said. “Not only that, they have to have good technique when it comes to certain steps, making sure that how they present themselves is right. They also [should] able to have great facial expressions and eye movements.” (on page 8)

A LIEUTENANT COLONEL, A TEACHER AND A LAWYER WALK INTO A BAR

Mac Huffman

Will Kodner

photographed by written by

Robert Snidman

photos courtesy of

COLONEL,

Some know him by his incredible depth of knowledge regarding the American government system. Maybe he’s known by his signature blue Oxford shirt and tie. Several people recognize the “snarky and subtle” humor he slips in during a lesson or conversation. Others recognize him as their lieutenant, colonel or even an esquire. Most teachers spend their mid and late 20s getting their education degrees, figuring out where they want to live their lives, what school they’d like to settle down in and planning out a nice trajectory for their future. However, this feat is not one that Ladue social studies teacher, lawyer and Lieutenant Colonel Robert Snidman chose to embark upon.

Contrary to the typical Ladue upbringing, Snidman began his childhood in Los Angeles. Through high school, he attended a Los Angeles City public school.

“The classes were huge,” Snidman said. “It was dangerous. There were certain areas around the schools that were off-limits and were occupied by gangs. I had no place to go.”

Due to the city of Los Angeles’ limited resources, after completing high school graduation requirements, students were unable to take any more classes. If they desired further education before graduation, they were required to attend a local community college or an honors program at University of California Los Angeles, where Snidman would eventually graduate in 1986.

“That's why I'm just horrified by senior privilege,” Snidman said. “It's a privilege to be able to take all the classes you want.”

During a year abroad in college, Snidman lived in Kibbutz Hanita, Israel. A kibbutz is an agricultural community based in Israel. This kibbutz in particular had a large banana plantation where Snidman spent most of his time farming bananas. He would be up at 4 a.m. with his machete loading bananas into the back of a flatbed.

“There were some great people there and it was an adventure,” Snidman said. “I recommend [that] all students spend a year abroad somewhere when they're in college.”

Snidman also spent five and a half years on active duty in the United States Air Force and 16 years in the military reserves. This would take him to Japan, Hawaii, Singapore and many other countries in the Eastern hemisphere. Snidman encourages young people to join the military.

“It was a great experience on so many levels,” Snidman said. “The pay is really good and the benefits are really good. In movies, everyone is always screaming at you and treating you poorly. It wasn't like that at all. Work is always interesting and the people you're working with are usually sincere, hard-working people. That's what drew me back to the reserves and since [then] I’ve missed it.”

In Japan, Snidman would spend the majority of his time on the Yokota Japanese Air Force Base as a lawyer. The base had thousands of people living on it, including families, schools and a family “court” of which Snidman was the head attorney. The majority of his cases dealt with families who were having issues with their children.

“The families of these kids who are having problems became very interesting to me,” Snidman said. “It seemed like there's ways to try to avoid trouble or ways to address trouble which are helpful and productive and it got me very interested in education.”

After returning to St. Louis, Snidman taught at Hazelwood Central High School. He taught social studies, government and coached their mock trial team. After finishing there, he took an interview at Ladue, in which social studies teacher Christopher Saxton made an appearance.

“He stood out as a wonderful candidate and he's got an amazing personality,” Saxton said. “He has a great ability of putting students first.”

After receiving the job, Snidman began teaching at Ladue in 2005. After retired Ladue social studies teacher David Sonius left the department, Snidman assumed Sonius’ role of the primary AP U.S. Government and Politics teacher.

“[Snidman's] depth of knowledge is amazing,” Saxton said. “He really brings a lot of life experiences into [class], especially because he was a lawyer. You can't get a better guy who knows the law than Mr. Snidman.”

Contrary to the typical modern classroom, Snidman keeps his use of laptops and screens to a minimum. Senior Aditya Jain is currently taking AP Government and and prefers this way for a social studies class.

“It’s interesting because he doesn't use computers or technology,” Jain said. “He uses paper, but I find that sticking to the old-fashioned methods allows for learning in a very unique fashion.”

A tradition that Snidman adopted when he began teaching at Ladue was the ‘professional dress’ tradition started by Sonius. Students could choose to dress formally by either wearing a button-down with a tie and slacks, or a formal skirt. For every day if students dressed like this, they earned a half point of extra credit.

“It seemed to be a great program,” Snidman said. “A lot of parents told me that they were very appreciative. A kid [who] normally dressed like a slob, now would want this half point extra credit so they're very interested in dressing professionally. I got so much positive feedback. It was something I could see [that] made students feel good about themselves and feel confident.”

However, last year the tradition ended with an order given from the board office, without any explanation. Next year, the tradition would have been going for 20 years. While the professional dress tradition has ended, Snidman developed a part of the curriculum that is not

seen in most classes. His AP Government students make presentations that reflect their current reading in the government textbook through the lens of current events.

“In the beginning of every class, he does student presentations," Jain said. I like these a lot because it allows me to see [what] the other people in my class see about politics and how they view the world. It’s actually my favorite part of class.”

In the Missouri government curriculum, students are required to pass a government and Constitution test. While the exam is required to pass, students find indefinite value in the course itself.

“The U.S. has been fortunate to have a [stable democracy] for a while,” Jain said. “It's important to understand and recognize [that] as people we have the duty to keep that going forward.”

After Snidman retires, he wants to take yoga classes, spend more time with his children, travel and adopt a new dog. He also plans to run for school board to continue improving Ladue classrooms. Snidman wants to increase teacher pay, decrease class sizes and provide more support for the Ladue faculty and students.

“My plan in December is to run for school board, so I can still be a part of this great organization that inspires me,” Snidman said. “I don’t know why classes are consistently expanding in size and that’s disappointing as an educator [and] a taxpayer. I think [teachers] could use more support and much better pay than they are receiving. There will be a voice on the school board that has a good understanding of ways to support them.”

As Snidman finishes out his final weeks, he reflects on wisdom he’s gained through valuable lessons he has learned through his teaching career.

“If everyone knew all the answers, we're all wasting our time here,” Snidman said. “As long as people don't know stuff, we're progressing. Be flexible, be understanding [and] listen."

Captions: Robert Snidman grades papers after school. PriortoteachingatLadue,Snidmanfacedunexpectedadversity at Hazelwood. “[There was] open drug dealing in the bathrooms and in the back of classrooms," Snidman said. "I did my best for five years." (on pages 10-11)

Robert and Elizabeth Snidman walk down the aisle on their wedding day in 1992. The wedding took place at Scott Air Force Base in Illinois. "My [military] orders sent me here," Snidman said. "We owe our family to the bureaucratic decision by the Air Force when they sent me to St. Louis." (on page 13)

Snidman shows off his ribbons and medals in his military portrait. He earned the Meritorious Service Medal, theredandwhiteribbon."IrememberIshowedup[tobasic training] and we're marching around and singing and working out and I'm like, 'Wait a minute, I'm getting paid for this?'" (on page 13)

“My plan in December is to run for school board, so I can still be a part of this great organization that inspires me.”

Robert Snidman, teacher

FROM THE ASHES

Phoenix Jegel discovers their identity and takes control of their life with art

*Junior Phoenix Jegel is agender and uses any pronoun. For the purpose of this story, Jegel is referred to with they/them pronouns.

Mac Huffman Katie Myckatyn

photographed by written by

Purple or blue?”

A frigid December breeze sweeps in through the open window, but junior Phoenix Jegel isn’t cold. Perched at the vibrantly decorated kitchen table, their mind is elsewhere. Interrupting the comfortable quietness around them, Jegel lets their question hang in the air. In response, their grandmother reaches over and threads a purple button onto the twine in Jegel’s hand.

This holiday season, Jegel and their grandmother continue their unique tradition of fashioning ornaments out of everyday objects. The tree, a room over, displays their work from years past: mice out of walnuts; toy soldiers made of popsicle sticks; beaded spiders; reshaped candy canes. After today, a miniature Christmas tree constructed from spare buttons will join the collection.

“Every year I look forward to spending that time with my grandma and making ornaments for my family,” Jegel said. “My family isn’t super emotional, so crafting and doing art is one of the ways that we come together. If I see that they’ve hung up something of mine it’s the best feeling.”

Ever since they were a child, art has been a recurring theme in Jegel’s life. Their family shared this passion.

“I have tubs of drawings from when I was a child,” Jegel said. “My grandma always had these piles of ribbons and glitter and all this stuff. I would always ask to use it, like, ‘Can I please use your $30 glitter on my hand turkey?’ She and my father have always been especially supportive of my art.”

Discovery

Jegel's teenage identity is deeply rooted in artistic expression, an enduring and profound aspect that persists to this day. Alongside their growth, they came to recognize another significant facet of their identity that stems from their gender, specifically, the lack thereof.

“I don’t have a gender and I don't care about having one,” Jegel said. “I don't get the dysphoria over gender; I don't feel the pull. It’s impossible to misgender me; whatever you call me, you’re right.”

O

fficially, Jegel classifies themself as agender. Like many others in the transgender community, Jegel’s journey of self-discovery was not one that they embarked upon alone. With the support of friends, both within the LGBTQ+ community and otherwise, Jegel has been able to discover more about themself than otherwise possible.

“We talk a lot about being trans; I’ve asked questions and realized that we had a lot of shared experiences and feelings,” Jegel said. “They’ve helped me so much because anytime I have concerns they’re here to reassure me that ‘Yep, that’s normal’, ‘This is okay’ [and] ‘You're alright.’”

Jegel’s unique outlook on life has been equally inspiring to the friends who helped them develop it.

“Phoenix doesn’t really look at the world in a male-female sense,” senior Andy Machado said. “[There's] a lot more in between. They don't pick up hobbies because they seem more feminine or more masculine. They just do it because it's fun and something they want to do. That's how Phoenix really operates; they do things because they love it, not because somebody is creating an expectation that they should.”

Obstacles

Jegel has received overwhelming kindness and support from many of the people in their life. However, this compassion does little to dissuade the prevalent shadows of animosity and judgment that continue to linger. Due to their generally uncommon gender identity, even those who typically aren’t outwardly transphobic don’t always respect Jegel's validity as a transgender person.

“People will use my not having a gender to invalidate me as a trangender person,” Jegel said. “It’s like if you don’t [have a gender] then you're not [considered to be] trans, or if you're not [transitioning] female to male or male to female, you're not [considered] trans. For a while, I believed that I couldn’t identify as trans. I just use other pronouns. That's not true, because that's not how being trans works. It's not how other people see you. It's what you are.”

Jegel has been aware of their identity since 2020. After two years of meticulous introspection, they decided to come out as transgender to their mother.

“One day [my mother and I] were in the car and I was like ‘Mom, I’m transgender,’” Jegel said. “She went home and Googled it and came back saying that, ‘You’re not trans since [you] didn’t show signs as a kid and all trans people showed signs as a kid.’ So I dropped it for a year and I brought it up again. She heard one of my friends [call] me ‘they’ and she was like, ‘Why are your friends calling you different pronouns?’ and I was like, ‘It's because I'm trans. I told you that.’”

Since their initial conversation, Jegel’s mother has instilled a sentiment upon Jegel that Jegel simply was not ready for the way that the world would treat them for identifying as a transgender person. This disposition is shared by many associates of transgender individuals who worry for the social safety and wellbeing of their loved ones. For Jegel, this notion had a profound impact on the extent that they expressed themself.

“For like a year I hid it from everyone in my life that I was trans,” Jegel said. “Nobody other than the people that I had previously come out to would know. Then I met a bunch of people at school who were also trans and that helped me realize ‘Oh, maybe this is okay. Maybe I can be trans.’”

Overcoming

Both Jegel’s transgender selfhood and artistic endeavors are a large part of their identity. Being so, it makes sense that the two aspects would conflate to manage the complexities of social and internal adversity.

“I remember this one time I was really mad about my gender,” Jegel said. “That's a hard feeling to explain, but I wasn't mad at myself. I did this painting, and I blacked out. I finished, and I never looked at it again. That was done.”

Art is a creative emotional outlet for many people. For Jegel, their active mind and struggles for expressional autonomy make them a prime candidate for this method.

“Art is nice, especially with abstract painting because I don't have complete control over it,” Jegel said. “It's nice to have something where it's okay to not have control because it helps me regulate the need for control to have a space where it's acceptable to not.”

Part of Jegel’s struggle for self-governance manifests itself in their routine transformation of physical presentation, specifically, in the way that Jegel’s hair is a different style and color every two months.

“I shaved my hair off [for the first time] and I went to the mirror and I cried because, ‘Oh my God, this is what I look like,’” Jegel said. “It was all happy tears. What I [felt] on the inside was how I was looking on the outside. It was this masculine thing and I'd never been allowed to be masculine.”

For Jegel, changing their appearance is so much more than a simple haircut.

“How I look now, this is who I am [and] this is what I want,” Jegel said. “I've been dyeing my own hair, which is having control over how people perceive me. It’s really important to me because for a really long time my mom wouldn't let me wear certain things because they were too masculine, [and] wouldn't let me do certain things. Shaving my head was finally getting to a point where I got to control how I looked.”

While is may not be the case for many people, in Jegel’s perspective, artistry, gender identity and physical presentation all fall under the same categorical purpose.

“They’re all just a form of expression, doing art and having a gender and thinking about all of this is just a better way to understand myself,” Jegel said. “Whether I'm sitting and thinking about what pronouns I want to be called or what label I want to give myself or I’m painting, it's all just a way to express myself and understand how I react to things.”

Persevering

All throughout Jegel’s life, they have grappled for control and capitalized on where they’ve seized it. This theme has remained a constant when examining what Jegel con-

siders to be the greatest obstacle they have faced as of yet: their childhood experience with scoliosis.

“It's the worst thing that you could imagine,” Jegel said. “It was excruciating to the point where I couldn't go to school because it would make my back hurt too bad. I had to do testing as a scared kid. Then, I got my surgery and I felt a little better. [But] then, I felt a little worse.”

Beneath the crushing weight of their illness, Jegel did what they do best; Jegel refused to back down and took control of the situation where they could.

“When I found out that I had scoliosis, I went home and did my hair to feel better about it,” Jegel said. “I shaved my head after my surgery because of where my scar is, [and] my hair is touching it. With medical surgery scars you can feel when things are touching them, so it was incredibly overstimulating. It felt like the only way I could have control over my body since the medical problems were so out of my hands.”

After years of tribulations and near death exposures, Jegel’s struggle with scoliosis brought about their own philosophy for living and thriving within a society that is commonly intolerant. Jegel continues to be true to themself and their experiences by pursuing joy and resonance.

“Coming so close to death helped me realize that I don't care what people think,” Jegel said. “I don't care if I walk around with a shaved head as a feminine person because I almost died. What other people think of me does not need to affect my quality of life because there's a chance that I could die. I need to live my life how it's going to make me happy, not what's going to make other people happy. I need to make art for myself and I need to do my hair for myself and not for other people.”

*JuniorPhoenixJegelisagenderandusesanypronoun. Forthepurposeofthisstory,Jegelisreferredtowiththey/ them pronouns.

Captions: Junior Phoenix Jegel is embraced by vibrant lights, illuminated in bold colors. Jegel's unconventional physical presentation has been a direct reflection of their hard-won autonomy. "My life hasn't been the most straightforward," Jegel said. "But realizing [that] I don't have to live by other people's standards has made me recognize who I actually am, even when it's uncomfortable for me and those I surround myself with."

Phoenix Jegel's art is audacious and vivid, with swirling colors and geometric shapes; no two pieces are alike. While they prefer to create art through 3D mediums such as clay, Jegel has used painting specifically as an outlet to channel their emotions. "My art is very much about regulating my emotions," Jegel said. "If I'm ever going stir crazy or I don't like something that I have to deal with or my mind is running too fast, I do art to find an outlet for my emotions. I love my art, it is so much of me put into it and ithelpsmeexploremyselftobothexploreandexpressthe ways that I feel."

SPREAD DESIGN BY CELINA ZHOU Listen

Mac Huffman & Vincent Hsiao

photographed by Celina Zhou written by

Isak Taylor discovers a community in the varsity cheer squad

After a long morning of chants and stunts at cheer camp, junior Isak Taylor comes back from a quick water break to a giant poster that reads, “HAPPY SWEET SIXTEEN, ISAK.” The whole camp gathers, and a few hundred voices join together to sing him “Happy Birthday,” loudly and discordantly and joyfully. Teammates drop by to sign the poster, and by the time the day ends, it’s full of names and well-wishes. As he laughs and celebrates with girls he thinks of like sisters, something clicks in place, an old ache settling inside him.

He’s home.

Taylor began cheering April 2023, though the seeds had been sown a long time before.

“I've always been a performer,” Taylor said. “I used to do dance when I was younger. Plus, I had a lot of friends on the team and Caleb Flynn, who was the boy cheerleader before me, we were friends. When I told him that I was interested, he was really happy. I was going to join last year but I didn't have the courage to do so. But when this year came along, I was just [going] do it. It was an impulse decision that I do not regret.”

In the beginning, it wasn’t easy. Though ideas surrounding gender have become much more flexible in recent years, there is still a stigma around the traditional norms being broken — like a boy doing cheer.

“When I first started, I struggled because I didn't know if people were gonna look at me any differently,” Taylor said. “I've gotten a lot of backlash from people because they don't like it. It doesn't get to me now because I'm doing what I enjoy and I'm not doing anything to hurt nobody. It's also helped other people see the different side of me that I really want people to see.”

Now, Taylor’s gender doesn’t play into his relationship with cheer at all — the sport feels natural.

“Being a boy doing cheer really doesn't mean anything big to me,” Taylor said. “Most people think being a boy and being a girl cheering are two different things, but cheering is the same to me. I chant, I do stunts. I just cheer.”

However, Taylor faced internal struggles when adapting to the intensive environment that defines cheer.

“At first, [Isak] was just really hard on himself,” cheer coach Merri Cross said. “He came in really only knowing what he saw being a student and there's a lot more to cheering than just the chants on the sideline.”

Still, even in the beginning, Taylor’s passion for cheer and desire to learn was as clear as day.

“Isak has incredible energy,” Cross said. “He is really fun to be around. He's really driven. He has a lot of ambition and I think that he's really found what he wants to have, that he wants cheer as part of his future. He has this million-watt smile that you can't miss.”

For Taylor, cheer is not only about athleticism, but also about creativity, beauty and innovation.

“I think [cheer is] both an art and a sport,” Taylor said. “Like dance, it’s a sport, because there’s so much athleticism that goes into it. But it's also like the art of cheer. You're creating something, whether that's a chant, a stunt [or] a dance. Cheer is also an art, because art to me is creating something.”

Among his teammates, Taylor has found a community of friends, mentors and a place to learn.

“Caleb was one of my biggest role models because he was the boy [cheerleader] before me and I think the only boy ever before him,” Taylor said. “Our seniors now are also big role models for me. To see how far they've come and just how bright their aura is; whenever I see it I think about how I want to be that when I'm a senior.”

His teammates have seen Taylor grow and also changed their perceptions of him in the process.

“I was really shy around him at first because he was popular [and] friends with everyone,” junior Kiyla Ray said. “But then I got closer to him, and I saw how he treated people, and how kind he was, and he really grew into himself around the team.”

His coaches have also been able to watch him step out of his insecurities and into his skillset.

“He's worked really hard to set himself on a new path,” Cross said. “I'm really proud of him. He's struggled a bit with facing stigma for being just a guy in cheer. It took Isak time to feel confident in who he is and embrace who he is. That's hard for any high school kid, right? Everybody is growing at different speeds and accepting themselves in different ways. But I told him, ‘You're an amazing person, and once you believe that and you step into that, it really doesn't matter what those folks who are giving you trouble for being a guy are saying.’”

Ultimately, Taylor has grown into himself through cheer and the surrounding environment.

“We're like a family,” Taylor said. “Now I feel like I'm free to do whatever and be who I am because now people have seen who I am and still accepted me.”

Captions: Junior Isak Taylor performs a chant during the fall sports pep rally. Taylor made the varsity squad after trying out April 2023. “Cheering is such an adrenaline rush,” Taylor said. “We’re always really excited because that'swhatgetsthecrowdpumpedup.Ifeellikeyoucan't even describe it unless you're there.” (on pages 18-19)

Taylor practices with teammates in the Nielson Gym. Taylor was given the position of backspot, the cheerleader who braces the ankles of fliers and calls counts for stunts. “[Cheer is] more of a mindset than a physical aspect because you can gain strength,” Taylor said. “For the mindset, you just need to realize that you're not going to hit it every time. It's not like you do it and you perfect it. You have to work for it." (on page 20)

JOURNEY

Tori Fox hones her Irish dance skills

Shamrock Photo Central Ella Bender

photos courtesy of written by

Freshman Tori Fox stands tall atop the competition stage in Indianapolis, staring out at the sea of people below her. Her effort in her appearance is evident, with a vibrant headband pushing back her carefully curled blonde wig. Lips outlined in a warm pink lipstick, she smiles wide. Her fuchsia dress covered with Swarovski crystals glints in the buzzing stage lights. She takes a slow, deep breath to gather her racing thoughts. After a moment, she begins her Irish jig.

After discovering Riverdance, a theatrical show featuring traditional Irish dance and music, on YouTube as a child living in Saudi Arabia, Fox was immediately drawn in by its stunning uniqueness and flair.

“I thought [Irish dancing] was cool because it was something different,” Fox said. “It's not like lyrical, tap [or] jazz. I did ballet for a minute, but it just wasn't very fun to me. Irish dance was so cool and fun, so it really attracted my focus.”

Fox began her dance career at Clarkson School of Irish Dance. She started purely for the fun of it.

“At my first competition, my only goal was to go out on stage and make the judge smile,” Fox said. “It really just flourished from there. I always had dreams of going to Worlds, Nationals and Oireachtas [Regionals] but I never knew that it would get to this place of qualifying and going to Worlds.”

Fox transferred to The Clark Academy of Irish Dancing, which was founded in 2008 by Mary Jo Clark-Cange, in December 2018 to continue her Irish dance journey.

“[Fox] has always had a really open mind about growing and anybody who has an open mind about growing I love to work with,” Clark-Cange said. “She just happens to also have a really great skill set and she happens to be a really good person. So, she adds a lot to the culture and our studio.”

Victoria Teske, Fox’s teammate, is a night nurse. She started Irish dancing when she was 11 years old and transferred to The Clark Academy of Irish Dance when she moved to Missouri from Arkansas in 2014.

“We have a lot of dancers that are in the same age groups, but we all want to see each other succeed,” Teske said. “We like to watch each other's dances and results and be there for each other.”

On her team, Fox participates in solo and group dances. Leading up to Oireachtas, the height of dance season, Fox practices around 16 hours a week.

“[During practice], we'll do some type of warm up and each week we have a different technique to focus on and sometimes a different step to focus on,” Clark-Cange said. “We'll often do some drills and steps and just depending again on what our focus is at the moment, sometimes we work on stamina and sometimes we do more stretching."

Through practice, Fox has slowly developed her own unique style and built upon her skills.

“[Fox has] learned how to combine some of the athleticism that has to come with Irish dancing, and the power with her [is that she’s] graceful,” Clark-Cange said. “She's combined that with the attack and bringing the rhythm to make an overall stronger performance.”

Fox competes once or twice a month on back-to-back weekends. Nationals are in July, Oireachtas are in November and Worlds are the week before Easter.

“On your odd age group years, which is whatever age you're turning that year, you dance to [a] slip jig, which is a slower soft shoe dance, and then a treble jig, which is a little bit faster,” Fox said. “On your even years, you dance to a reel, which is also fast, and then you dance to [a] hornpipe, which is a slower hard shoe dance.”

Fox qualified for the 2023 Worlds at the previous Oireachtas. At that Oireachtas, she danced with a broken foot, unable to take a medical exemption, and placed 6th.

“This past April was my first time at Worlds, but I actually came only three away from Worlds the previous year,” Fox said. “But that's okay because I know it was definitely part of my journey. Looking back on it, I was not meant to go to Worlds that year because I just wasn't ready. I'm glad I came when I was ready and came out with a bang.”

Worlds was held in Montreal last year. The dancing started at 8 a.m., so Fox had to wake up at 3 a.m. in order to get ready before she danced. She had to put on her wig and makeup, which she was taught how to do by her first dance teacher, and warm up before she competed.

“I got through the first recall, which is 50% of the 1% that actually qualify for Worlds altogether,” Fox said. “Then, I got 62nd overall. I knew it wasn't my best dance day, but I'm still really proud of that.”

At the last Oireachtas, Fox competed again. She warms up to Shakira's “Waka Waka (This Time for Africa)” at every competition and Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” at Oireachtas to get in the Christmas spirit. During major competitions, she then dances in front of around 500 people and five judges. During her performances, Fox feels a flurry of emotions.

“When I get on stage, I'm completely numb,” Fox said. “I just go on autopilot. At that point, you've already done all the work, so you just have to trust yourself to do it. By the end, you're dying because you can't catch your breath and your muscles hurt really bad. But after you get on stage, it feels really great knowing that you did such a good job and gave everything you had.”

After giving her all on stage, Fox came in third place at Oireachtas and qualified to compete at the next Worlds, which will be held in Glasgow, Scottland in April.

“I was able to watch [Fox] dancing and her awards and [I loved] getting to give her a big hug after she got off stage,” Teske said. “She shares a lot with me, so I know

what stresses her out and what she's excited for and what she hopes for. Getting to watch her reach her goal was just absolutely incredible.”

While Fox wins individual awards, she doesn’t always compete alone. She danced in four-hands, four-person groups, with her team at Oireachtas and Worlds.

“[Group performances] can be really fun because you can't dance like a solo dancer,” Clark-Cange said. “You have to try to match each other and look exactly alike. Doing team dancing really helps embody that team spirit.”

Fox also performs in private events, such as weddings, and in public with her team. Around last St. Patrick’s Day, Fox and her team danced in eight shows, including some in Dogtown, downtown St. Louis and Clayton. The height of performance season is around St. Patrick’s Day when Irish dancers come together to celebrate Irish culture.

“The support is just unreal,” Fox said. “[My teammates] have become my family. I will go to them if I need anything. I'm so lucky to have them.”

Fox isn’t sure where the future will take her, whether to Irish dance in college or maybe further to a professional career. What she is sure about is that she wants to teach kids to dance and help them to follow in her footsteps.

“I hope to see myself teaching the younger ones [in the future],” Fox said. “I've already started that. I really enjoy doing that because they are the next generation. I feel very honored to help teach them and I also hope to see myself as a role model to them, because I always looked up to the older dancers when I was younger. It always made me see [that] I could do anything, and it really just gave me hope for the future if I worked hard.”

Fox isn’t afraid to flaunt her passion. She feels that all sports, not just the common ones, should be celebrated.

“Just own [your sport],” Fox said. “No matter what sport it is, even if it's unique, just go for it and find your own passion because everyone's passions are different. You have to find that [passion] and then just embrace it.”

Captions: Freshman Tori Fox dances onstage at the 2023 Oireachtas. Many of her teammates watched her dance and praised her after she received her placement. The support of Fox's teammates empowered her. “When I got third [at Oireachtas], everybody just started crying for my friend and I because we were top three together,” Fox said. “When I came off stage, everybody was just running over and trying to hug me." (on pages 22-23)

Fox poses with her teammates after placing 3rd at the 2023 Oireachtas. She was scored by five judges, who are typically Irish dance teachers. Fox received guidance from her dance teacher, Mary-Jo Clark-Cange, that led her to success. “My dance teacher is actually great,” Fox said. “She choreographs [dances], but then she allows us to fiddle with it and give our own pizzazz and input into our dancing that will make it further like our style. She's always open to new ideas.” (on page 25)

“[Fox is] a

beautiful dancer.

It's like watching a butterfly.”

Victoria Teske, teammate

BLENDING BACKGROUNDS

Maya Mathew

Eduardo Naranjo explores his diverse cultural identity Vincent Hsiao

photographed by written by

The aromas of seafood and fresh produce fill the air as junior Eduardo Naranjo’s grandmother prepares Locos con Mayonesa, a traditional Chilean dish. The rich, flavor-filled entree features locos, or Chilean mullosks, on a bed of lettuce. Eduardo’s grandfather brings the locos fresh from the market, which are garnished with creamy mayonnaise, avocados and tomatoes. Eduardo only eats Locos con Mayonesa when traveling to Chile, and a single bite of the dish overwhelms him with the feeling of home, a comfort that he often seeks when moving from one country to another.

Cultural Differences

Though Eduardo’s parents grew up in Chile, he was raised in France and the United States. After moving from the U.S. to France in 2009 and back to the U.S. in 2015, Eduardo witnessed the contrast between culinary habits in France and the U.S.

“Lunch is such a big part of a French person's day,” Eduardo said. “I went to a private school in France and we would get served five courses. Every school would get a really good meal for lunch. That was a really big emphasis in France. We got an hour for lunch in France, but [in the U.S.], you get 30 minutes.”

Eduardo lived in France from the ages of 2 to 9 years old and attended daycare, French kindergarten and elementary school in France.

“The school system is pretty different,” Eduardo said. “[In France], they had one class where we all moved up together, but in the US, there's a lot more intermingling between different classes. They have bigger schools here as well.”

Eduardo’s father Lorenzo Naranjo has observed the differences between the places that he has lived in as well. He has stayed in various countries with his family, including in Singapore for one summer due to his work as a college professor.

“All of these countries are very different,” Lorenzo said. “South America is different from the United States, and even within the United States, living in New York City, living in Miami and living in St. Louis are quite different [experiences]. Everything is different in France as well. It’s [necessary] to adapt because there are things that are going to be very normal in some countries that aren't normal in other countries. You need to be very flexible and open, which is pretty much what [Eduardo] has done.”

Developing Adaptability

Eduardo attributes his growing sense of adaptability to his travels and the values that his parents have taught him at a young age.

“Chile had a dictatorship not too long ago, which my parents lived through,” Eduardo said. “The adaptability of being able to live through something like that [was] definitely instilled in me.”

In particular, Eduardo has demonstrated his adaptability through the languages he has learned to further adapt to the countries that he’s moved to.

“He moved to France when he was 2, so his first language was French,” Lorenzo said. “We spoke Spanish at home and then when we moved back to the United States, he was 8 [years old]. He didn't speak any English [at the time], but he quickly picked it up. Now, he speaks English very well and his French is okay.”

Though Eduardo learned English quickly, it was still challenging for him to master the language in such a short amount of time. At first, this made it difficult for him to adjust to the American school system and tests written fully in English.

“It's [difficult] for people who have never been outside their comfort zone to understand that it's hard,” Lorenzo said. “It's hard for Americans to learn French, it's hard for French people to learn English, it's hard for any foreigner to learn a foreign language.”

Eduardo’s fluency in Spanish eased his transition to Miami, but through his travels to other countries, he continued to witness the difficulties of learning languages.

“Moving to Miami wasn't that bad because I spoke Spanish at home, so the Spanish helped me through,” Eduardo said. “Language barriers are probably the [hardest] thing, because it's so different. You can't really communicate without language.”

Although learning new languages comes with difficulties, Lorenzo believes that it is vital to understand the language of the place you are living in to truly embrace the country’s culture.

“Learning the language of the place that you are in is very important,” Lorenzo said. “That's been [the] key. If Eduardo didn't speak Spanish, I don't think he would have been able to relate to the Chilean culture the way he relates, because every time we've gone to Chile it would have been very odd not to speak the language. Similarly, in France today, most French people speak English, but if you really want to connect, you need to speak French.”

Building Relationships

Traveling to Chile almost every other year and speaking Spanish at home has allowed Eduardo to absorb the culture and speak the language fluently, which has aided him in building relationships across the globe.

“In Miami, being able to make friends with people who spoke Spanish [and] having that cultural connection definitely helped with friendships,” Eduardo said.

Relationships are not solely built upon shared languages or cultures, though. Some of Lorenzo’s most val-

ued friendships have stemmed from relationships formed in the neighborhoods he has lived in or in his PhD program in New York City.

“Those human relationships are the most important part, at least for us, to make moving around work,” Lorenzo said. “It helps that, except in Miami, our Chilean community has never been very big. It's not like we can rely on our own community. We need to adapt and get to know people that live in [the places we live] because that's what we get.”

Junior Vishmi Rajapaksha, one of Eduardo’s close friends, met Eduardo through the Robotics club at Ladue. Since she has known him for around two years, Rajapaksha has seen Eduardo’s involvement in his extracurricular activities, like Quiz Bowl and Robotics, grow.

“He knew what he was interested in from the start, like science,” Rajapaksha said. “He was also really passionate about rock climbing. When he came [to] Ladue, he continued to do the things he was already passionate about.”

While some might believe that similar cultural or personal backgrounds are essential for forming connections, Rajapaksha observed that several of Eduardo’s friendships were built from shared interests.

“Through extracurriculars, he's met people who have similar interests as him, so he's surrounded himself with people who can resonate with him,” Rajapaksha said.

Along with developing relationships in activities, Eduardo expanded his social circle through mutual friendships. The community he has created has been a significant aspect of his experience at Ladue.

“Since I came [to Ladue] in freshman year, there were other new kids coming in,” Eduardo said. “I was able to form a community, find good friends and expand [my friend group].”

Whether it’s adjusting to new countries by building connections or learning languages, Lorenzo feels that as long as he remained open-minded, he could find beauty in any environment.

“Whenever you go to a different place, you need to be open and acknowledge that things that were very normal in other places are going to be different,” Lorenzo said. “As long as you realize that, then every place is great.”

Captions: Junior Eduardo Naranjo dons a Chilean soccer jersey. In his childhood, he watched soccer games often with his family. "Whenever the Chilean team was playing in a World Cup match, we would watch it," Eduardo said. (on pages 26-27)

Eduardo's family displays various culturally significant items in their house. The copper plate, engraved with the Chilean Coat of Arms, was previously owned by Eduardo's great-grandfather and was gifted to him by a close friend. "The copper plates [definitely] represent our Chilean heritage," Eduardo said. "[They make us feel] like we brought a part of the country with us." (on page 29)

SPREAD DESIGN BY MAYA MATHEW

Scan here to learn more about Eduardo and listen to the story

HAMLIN

GUIDING LIGHT

transitions into the professional world of technical theater

Ella Hamlin

Mac Huffman

Ella Braig

photographed by written by

Fastening bolts into place with a crescent wrench, senior Ella Hamlin is elevated by an aerial lift, meeting the newly-installed spotlights at eye level. Gradually, she tightens C-clamps for Ladue High School’s spring musical, “The Drowsy Chaperone.” On Feb. 21, 2024, she will sit in the technical booth and instruct her fellow crew members as they run the lights for their first dress rehearsal. After moving to the balcony in the Performing Arts Center, Hamlin flips a switch on her lighting board and a spotlight pours light into one fixed area. Then, she flashes a thumbs-up to the production’s director through the sound-proof glass. This can only mean one thing: it’s showtime.

In the Booth

Hamlin first forged an interest in theater after attending the St. Louis Shakespeare Festival’s production of “Romeo and Juliet” in 2018. From there, she joined the festival’s Shakespeare Squadron, which gave her the opportunity to perform before each mainstage show. However, at school, she preferred to work behind the scenes, serving as the head of stage crew for Ladue Middle School’s production of “Hairspray” in 2019.

The first show Hamlin designed the lighting for was Ladue High School’s spring musical, “Mamma Mia,” in 2022. Since then, Hamlin has served as the lighting designer for nine different shows, including various Ladue productions. Most recently, she has designed lighting for “Puffs” and “The Drowsy Chaperone.”

“You're working with angles, color and texture, and it's not a super common art medium to work with,” Hamlin said. “So, you have to start thinking differently about how you can make art onstage with this new [creative outlet].”

Hamlin has worked with numerous performing arts directors over the course of her high school career, including Stephen Howard and Kurt Knoedelseder. As of her senior year, she is studying under Jessica Winingham, head of Ladue’s drama department.

“Ella is like working with a professional, so it's really nice for me because I can speak to her like an adult about tech theater,” Winingham said. “Specifically, she is incredibly knowledgeable. She's also very calm. She's fast. She's considerate. ”

Outside of theatrical productions, Hamlin has run the lights for various schoolwide functions for multiple years, such as faculty-lead presentations and band concerts. For these types of events, she reports to Activities Coordinator Greg Kendall.

“She is very passionate about making sure that the things that she's responsible for are done perfectly,” Kendall said. “I think that she is dogged in her pursuit of perfection.”

Stage Business

In the summer of 2023, Hamlin was hired as a deck electrician at STAGES St. Louis, a local performing arts center, for their production of “Aida.”

“I wanted to do more theater over the summer going into my summer after junior year,” Hamlin said. “I had done ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ with [the Gateway Center for Performing Arts] as a spotlight operator the previous fall and had a lot of fun, but [I] was looking for somewhere where I would get more lighting-focused experience and a slightly higher professional level.”

During “Aida’s” run, Hamlin’s primary role was to prepare the Asteria tubes, or large LED staffs that the actors portraying palace guards used as weapons. After “Aida” performed their final show, she requested that her contract be extended and was hired as a swing technician for their production of “Clue.”

“I just rotated through [shadowing crew members] until someone needed me,” Hamlin said. “One of our [assistant stage managers] got sick for three days, [so] I went and did her job for three days. Then, one of the electricians ended up having to go back to college early, so then I filled in for him for the last week of ‘Clue.’”

At 18 years old, Hamlin was the youngest person working at STAGES over the summer. In the early phases of her career, she worried that it would be difficult for her to forge connections with her co-workers due to their difference in ages.

“All my friends were about to graduate college or had been out of college for a few years,” Hamlin said. “I was a little nervous [about] how that would turn out, but we ended up being really great friends and we hung out all the time outside of work.”

Fortunately for Hamlin, the tight-knit community of technicians working at STAGES welcomed her with open arms. For her, help and support from her co-workers were a highlight of the experience.

“Being such good friends [with my fellow crew members] made the work 10 times more fun,” Hamlin said. “I was learning so much about lighting and electrics, but I was learning it from these people who I really loved and I considered my friends.”

More Than Wigs and Makeup

Although Hamlin’s knowledge of lighting design and technicality is expansive, she isn’t always taken as seriously as her male co-workers with an equally broad skillset.

“I have worked with male directors who absolutely underestimated me and did not believe that I had the technical skills that I did,” Hamlin said. “[They] were really rude about that, and disrespectful, and didn't want me to do my job because they thought that I couldn't do it.”

HAMLIN

In many professional theater settings, lighting and set crews are composed of predominantly male engineers. As one of two girls on the electrics team at STAGES, Hamlin was initially concerned that she would receive the same demeaning treatment from her male co-workers that she is so often used to.

“Especially going into [lighting design and engineering] at my age, it was definitely a little nerve wracking to show up to STAGES [on] my first day, knowing that most of the electrics team was going to be [composed of] men and I was going to have to prove myself as an 18 year old girl who was still in high school,” Hamlin said.

At STAGES, Hamlin initially felt misunderstood, since she was a young woman working on a professional stage crew.

“I had [undergone] multiple times when I was first starting at STAGES [where] people asked me, once they found out that I was in high school, ‘Do you [work with] costumes or makeup?’” Hamlin said. “I was like, ‘No, I do lighting. I've done the lighting design for the past few shows.’ People automatically make the assumption that you're in one of those fields if they don't know [that you aren’t].”

However, to Hamlin’s delight, she was generally treated with the same amount of respect as her male co-workers.

“I never once really felt doubted or undermined because of my identity and being a woman [at STAGES],” Hamlin said. “But, that is to say that my experience does not speak for everyone. I've heard many, many, many stories of other women in the field having that doubt placed upon them just for being a woman. So, I do assume that I will encounter that in my future.”

Despite the profound lack of women pursuing male-dominated fields in technical theater, Hamlin is hopeful that, in the future, more girls will be eager to take on jobs that are similar to her own.

“There's definitely been improvements in the last few years to get women into those fields, especially lighting, sound and technical direction,” Hamlin said. “So, I think we're on an upward trend of women getting involved.”

Final Bow

Since her freshman year, Hamlin was commonly regarded as the backbone of Ladue’s technical theater program.

“Before this year, I was [engineering and designing lighting for] shows by myself,” Hamlin said. “I was [stripping] everything and rehanging lighting fixtures, focusing and programming an entire show by myself. So, it took a lot longer, but it was also just hard because I didn’t have people to help move stuff.”

Preparing to graduate high school, Hamlin prioritized building up Ladue's technical theater program. It was im-

portant to her that her fellow students learned how to run tech for the spring musical, which would prepare them for the following year, during which she will not be present.

“I actually was not at [‘The Drowsy Chaperone’s’] closing show,” Hamlin said. “[The lighting crew] ran the whole thing and did a fantastic job. I'm incredibly proud of them.”

In January of 2024, Hamlin was one of three students to be awarded a technical theater scholarship at the annual Missouri State Thespian Conference, which took place in Kansas City. The scholarship was granted to her after her portfolio was examined and reviewed by members of the Educational Theatre Association.

“When I won the [scholarship], it felt like all of the work that I put in, especially in the last few years, and all of the time that I spent on my portfolio — compiling photos [and] gluing photos into my giant portfolio notebook — all of that had really paid off,” Hamlin said. “It validates that this is what I should be doing. I'm having fun, but [I’m] also going to be so successful [pursuing my] passion.”

The scholarship will be particularly helpful as Hamlin goes through the process of applying for colleges. Ideally winding up at a conservatory, she plans to earn a Bachelor’s Degree in lighting design.

“A conservatory program is essentially just more hardcore than other programs,” Hamlin said. “So, you're spending more hours in the theater and more hours in theater focused classes. A lot of your classes are either work time to work on shows, or will eventually become independent study time to work on your own work.”

While it’s no secret that Hamlin has left a lasting impression on Ladue’s performing arts department, the time for her to pursue working with professional productions is on the horizon. Although “The Drowsy Chaperone” may have been the last show she designed lighting for in high school, it's safe to say that Hamlin has a bright future ahead of her.

“[Hamlin] makes sure that she's an expert as much as she can be for every lighting component.” Winingham said. “It's a huge strength. If something comes up, she will always find the answer.”

Captions: Senior Ella Hamlin hangs lights during her technical theater class. Hamlin first enrolled in an independent study in order to further her knowledge of engineeringanddesign."Sheknowsthesoundsystemandthe lighting system in the theater better than anyone in the building," Greg Kendall said. (on page 30)

The cast of "Puffs" and "The Drowsy Chaperone" act underEllaHamlin'smulticoloredlightsinthePerforming Arts Center. During her final year of high school, Hamlin took on two of her most ambitious projects yet, which have since become highlights in her portfolio. "[I had the most fun honing my] technical skills with 'Puffs' overall," Hamlin said. (on page 34)

love of music composition

CRESCEN

Mac Huffman photographed by Arti Jain

written by

NDO

Fsharp. G sharp, C, F sharp. One haunting chord ringing through the auditorium, sustained through a single fermata. A slight crescendo into an explosive phrase, saxophonists furiously blowing into their instruments. The clash of harmonies, melodies, tone and timbré — all on a single sheet of paper. Sitting on his bed, junior Yueheng Wang creates melodies and harmonies, weaving together entire orchestras through the scratch of a pencil against sheet music. Should he write in another hairpin dynamic, continuing the phrase? Or would it be better to fade into virtual silence, allowing the bassist to play an ethereal solo accentuated by slight pizzicato? The possibilities of musical composition are endless, which is exactly why Wang craves it. As a trumpet player, pianist and composer, he has an endless desire to learn and write as much music as is physically possible.

“[My musical composition journey] started with me just sitting at the piano improvising, and then listening to other composers and wanting to create my own music,” Wang said. “It wasn’t like some inspiration was beamed into me — it actually started with a competition that I wanted to join, and there was a cash prize for $200. I joined, and ended up getting [the money]. It didn’t start off as a passion, but it developed into one.”

Wang has found only a meager musical community at Ladue. However, he has been able to collaborate with senior Ovya Diwakaran, a composer herself. The two met at University of Missouri's compositional festival June 2023.

“We're in different grades and we run in different circles, but because of composition, we're friends no matter what,” Diwakaran said. “Sometimes he’ll [bring] scores for me to look at and we'll just talk about that stuff. There's an automatic understanding between us.”

Music allows Wang to express emotions in a medium separate from language. When working, he enters a meditative state and pulls on his composition socks. These are teal and ankle-length, featuring small yellow dinosaurs.

“The process of composing is different for everyone,” Wang said. “For me, I have a lot of pre-compositional thinking. Before I write anything down, I’m just laying in my bed and thinking, ‘What do I want to write about?’”

Wang self-studied compositional techniques from third to seventh grade, when he started working with an instructor at Webster University. His style is constantly changing — as a result, many ideas don’t come to fruition.

“[Disappointment] happens every step of the way,” Wang said. “It has never gotten easier because I’m always trying to experiment. With each [composition], knowing when to discard an idea is just as important as knowing when to continue it. Sometimes I have an idea and it snowballs because I really like it but it just does not work in the piece. I keep writing, keep writing and there’s no

way I can make it work. Knowing when to stop [is] one of the challenges.”

While 14 of Wang’s pieces have been professionally performed, he has written over 100. Orchestra conductor Twinda Murry admires the uniqueness of Wang's pieces. She first recognized his love for composing in 2023 and has enjoyed seeing him blossom through his work.

“[Yueheng] is taking a chance on adding in some different colors, with slides and things that aren’t common in orchestral music,” Murry said.

Unusual compositional techniques present in Wang's work are the result of where he draws inspiration from.

“I find music in objects,” Wang said. “You can recreate [any sound] with objects. One time, I was sitting in a classroom, and it was super silent but there was rummaging [of] stuff. It sounded like a percussion ensemble, and I wanted to recreate it. The world just became musical [to me].”

When in a musical slump, Wang reads to stimulate his ideas. He even thinks about composition while sleeping, dreaming of melodies only apparent to the subconscious brain. Additionally, as a first-generation Chinese-American, Wang is often influenced by his own heritage.

“I like using traditional harmony and rhythms, but not just from my own culture,” Wang said. “I like watching different cultures’ music and getting influenced by that.”

Murry enjoys seeing how various cultural aspects affect and elevate the compositions Wang produces.

“I encourage [Yueheng] to continue to explore the music that he connects with, from his heritage, and then see how he can combine that with Western music and contemporary music,” Murry said.

Some classical composers shun modern genres, which rely less on a music theory education. Wang doesn’t feel the same. He even creates pop songs and rap beats and hopes to release on Spotify soon. Additionally, Wang dreams of composing a film score later in his career.

“I’m not a music elitist,” Wang said. “I think all music has value. [Take] Taylor Swift — the production on that is a culmination of music knowledge. Some people say, ‘Oh, it’s not elite enough.’ But you have to think of the purpose, of why she wrote that piece and how she executed it. With art, that’s all you can ask for — the artist’s vision and if they did it well or not.”

When composing, the process of selecting instruments is no easy task, forcing Wang to draw from years of theory education. Timbré, the unique sound an instrument creates, is an example of one such criteria he looks for.

“I choose instruments based on the timbré and their technical ability,” Wang said. “For example, a piano’s timbré is very different from a violin’s. When I think of a piece, if I want something that sustains, I won’t pick piano. If I want percussive attacks, or other things you can do with a piano, I’ll pick piano.”

Despite his love for music, Wang recognizes how hard it is to thrive in such a subjective field. At competitions, for example, judges have preconceived notions of music they enjoy because they are composers themselves. However, Wang has found a way to push through and find internal value rather than relying on external validation.

“What are you composing for if you’re comparing [yourself] to other people?” Wang said. “Are you composing for yourself or are you composing for how other people see your music? That feeling is terrible. [But], sometimes I think, ‘I’m not doing this for other people.’ It’s a very liberating feeling. I’m a composer, I can do what I want. I’m making sounds that I want to hear; I don’t care about other people’s opinions.”

Wang hopes to pursue music in college, with conservatories such as The Juilliard School and New England Conservatory of Music as his top picks. He’s already been successful — Wang learned March 1 of his acceptance into the Juilliard Summer Composition program, a twoweek intensive in New York City with only 30 spots for applicants worldwide. The program aims to develop young composers' techniques while connecting them with world-renowned musicians. However, despite these successes, Wang remains uncertain of the conservatory path.

“Johns Hopkins has a really good music school,” Wang said. “So, I could major in music and minor in something that will make me money. But, the difference between conservatories and universities is [that], at conservatories, your life is to compose. At universities, there’s a big social [aspect] too. You have to learn other things and you’re surrounded by a diverse cast of people. At a conservatory, everyone has the same goal as you.”

A conservatory’s application process is different from a university’s, as applicants submit their compositions for consideration. But, even after secondary education, Wang is concerned about his future in the music industry.

“There’s this quote that goes, ‘If you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life,’” Wang said. “I don’t know if I agree with that, because there’s a counter to that, which is, ‘If you do what you love as your job, you’ll start liking it less.’ I do want to do music as a job for the rest of my life. But, I worry about what that will do to my love of [music].”

In a society that values monetary gains, it’s hard to break out in such a subjective field. However, Wang has already recieved accolades for his compositions. “Naked Trees” placed first in University of Missouri’s Creating Original Music Project and Wang won cash prizes for both himself and Ladue. The piece was played in a The University of Missouri School of Music concert April 20.

“I want to make a living off of composing, but it’s really difficult,” Wang said. “You have to be really good at networking and expand your web of influence with people [to] get connections, gigs and jobs.”

Some composers alter musical norms to satisfy modern interests due to this reliance on relationships. Wang especially notices this with a piece’s form — how long the music stays on one idea and develops into another.

“With the commodification of music, [form] has been lost,” Wang said. “A lot of songs don’t even have bridges now. And, that’s not comparable to avant-garde, people wanting to break the mold of music. No, it’s to accompany people’s short attention spans.”

However, Wang draws a distinction between this and novel styles of music. One example is John Cage’s infamous “4’33’,” whose score contains no notes or markings whatsoever — it is music totally devoid of sound.

“If you make a [piece] that’s only silence, that’s super easy to make, but who has thought of it and did it?” Wang said. “John Cage thought of it and did it. No one before him did. That, to me, is groundbreaking. [John Cage] is defining music.”

Wang admires composers such as Maurice Ravel, Francis Poulenc and Anton Webern, but recognizes that classical music has declined in popularity. He hopes to dismantle these negative stereotypes.

“I want to make a change in how we view music and how we create music,” Wang said. “The majority of [teenagers] don’t like classical music. I want to find a way to bring it back — not just by taking the old [but] by adding modern influences and making it popular again.”

These aspirations often alter Wang's compositions.

“[Yueheng’s] thing is always pushing the limits of sound and trying to write music that you haven't really had before, this modern 21st century music,” Diwakaran said. “That is a huge influence for me, because I’ve never really thought to do that before.”

While a composer's journey may be difficult, Wang is prepared to brave whatever challenges come his way.

“Right now, I could take any other path pretty easily; I could just not do music,” Wang said. “But, I just have this deep yearning to understand it more, study it. So, I’m just following my passion and seeing where it leads me. I’m not thinking about [whether] I’ll be successful or rich. I’m just trying to do what I love.”

Caption: Junior Yueheng Wang's piece, “Of Mountains and Seas,” is played by Ladue High School's top orchestra and band classes April 4. He wrote it in June 2023, drawing inspiration from an ancient Chinese novel titled “Classics of Mountains and Seas.” Wang’s parents and compositional teacher sat in the audience to support him throughout the performance. Many of Wang’s friends, who played the piece, also showed their encouragement. “Alotofmyfriendswerereallyenthusiastic—[especially] the wind players,” Wang said. “A lot of them would come up to me, [would] want me to help them and would come to seminar every day. It was such a group effort, and it felt like a relief that [the piece] was in good hands.”

"I’m a composer, I can do what I want. I’m making sounds that I want to hear."

Yueheng Wang, junior

In the bustling kitchen of Ladue High School, the sound of sizzling pans and the aromatic blend of spices fill the air. Utensils lay scattered on shiny stainless steel countertops as students mix, chop and sautè their ingredients. The kitchen hums with anticipation as students collaborate and laugh, excitedly waiting to taste their creations.

Family and Consumer Sciences (FACS) teacher April Dalton was introduced to the culinary world in her first year of studies at Southwestern Illinois College in 2011.

“I was a barista for a long time,” Dalton said. “[But] one day, the chefs in the back were low staffed so I decided to go back and ask them if they needed any help.”

From that moment on, Dalton fell in love with cooking and began receiving training from the other chefs while learning the intricacies of the job.

“People either like or dislike kitchen life, and I loved it,” Dalton said. “I loved the heat and the stress and the pressure of it all. It's just totally different [from] your normal job.”

After discovering her passion for the culinary arts, she began working as a full-time chef for Bon Appétit, a catering company that provides services to corporations and colleges, including Washington University in St. Louis.

“WashU had an absolutely amazing dining program with global cuisine from all over,” Dalton said. “That’s where I got most of my experience.”

In addition to dining halls, Dalton also worked at large catering events, including the 2016 presidential debate, where she and her team served around 100,000 people.

“Working with the other chefs was probably my favorite part,” Dalton said. “Coming in, we would all have a family meal together where we’d cook together, eat together and then we would start service. Those moments were great.”

Along with dining and catering, Bon Appétit also hosted several culinary events for students.

“Doing innovative things was really fun because WashU really supported [us] financially,” Dalton said. “We would do pop-ups of plant-forward meals [to try] to get kids to eat less meat."

Although Dalton had officially become a chef and began to instruct staff in the kitchens, she had always had the underlying desire to teach. Therefore, she decided to pursue an education degree at Fontbonne University.

“I used to teach music in marching band and design marching band shows so I always wanted to teach in a classroom,” Dalton said. “I [just] didn't know that you could teach cooking at a high school [level] until I was really researching a career change.”

After finishing her education degree in 2015, Ladue happened to be hiring for a FACS teacher, so she received the position while still working full time at the kitchen.

TURN UP THE HEAT

April Dalton explores careers in the culinary arts

Mac Huffman Kelly Zhang

photographed by written by

“I would come here, work from 5 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., and then I would leave and go to WashU to work 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. and do it all over again,” Dalton said.

Although it may seem difficult to go straight from a professional chef to a high school teacher, Dalton had a surprisingly smooth and easy transition.

“The level of intensity to be a chef and to run a restaurant is the exact same as teaching,” Dalton said. “I was so worried about making sure that the kids were having fun, so when it didn't seem like they were having fun, it would break my heart. I realize [now] that there's a place for just relaxing, reading and actually processing.”

While she quickly got used to the intensity of the job, Dalton had some struggles adapting to the schedule.

“The most difficult part was getting used to a normal schedule," Dalton said. “We're used to having the Monday through Friday nine to five, but I was working three to four, sometimes 24 hours and that was normal for me.”

Fashion and child development teacher Kimberly Boyles is a fellow teacher in the department. She and Dalton often work together to plan ideas for their classes.

“[Dalton is] incredibly hardworking and innovative,” Boyles said. “She comes up with some really cool projects that I would never have thought of, so I appreciate being able to collaborate with her and bounce ideas off of her. We've worked pretty well as a team.”

Being a FACS teacher for 18 years, Boyles recognizes the importance of practical and food management skills on students’ lives and futures.

“I think it's pivotal to have those basic culinary skills and, beyond that, safety and sanitation,” Boyles said. “People don't always realize what we could be doing to make ourselves and our food more healthy.”

When COVID-19 hit, Dalton decided to return to school and get her masters degree in food business and sustainability at the Culinary Institute of America.

“It was mostly business design,” Dalton said. “We [focused on] innovative ways of coming up with businesses that solve problems and handle food concerns and issues around the world.”

For the last residency in her program, Dalton and 60 other students in the program rented an Airbnb in Colorado to complete their final project. There, they spent one month focusing on food sustainability by upcycling ingredients from local restaurants.

“Someone [went] around to all the restaurants in the area and collected whatever scraps were leftover that week,” Dalton said. “We’d get things like root ends from celery, the skins from carrots and the shells from shrimp. Then we'd come back to our Airbnb and experiment with the things that we could create with them.”

Through her time in culinary school and the kitchens, Dalton has gained a broader perspective on food sustainability and the future of the culinary scene.

“[Upcycling] is the future of the food industry,” Dalton said. “[In the future], we’re probably going to wind up eating nothing but plant-based and upcycled [food].”

Throughout all of her jobs and schooling, Josh Klenke, Dalton’s boyfriend of 10 years, has witnessed and accompanied her as she made changes in her career.

“She was worked to death, but never gave up,” Klenke said. “[There were] small setbacks but she always picked herself back up and kept going.”

Dalton and Klenke met for the first time when they were working as chefs for Bon Appétit.

“We met at WashU, in the kitchens,” Dalton said. “At first, I didn't like him at all because we both liked to do [things] our way. We’d fight all the time but then we would go out afterwards [for coffee] and realized that we actually really enjoyed each other.”

Although their career paths eventually went separate directions, with Dalton focusing on her career in food and Klenke getting into the health industry, they still made sure to find time for eachother.

“She was working full time [and] going to school full time,” Klenke said. “[But during] the time she was free of all that stuff, she still managed to go out and we'd see music, eat food, go out to the nightlife and be outdoors people.”

For Dalton, Klenke has been a source of companionship and encouragement throughout her entire culinary and educational journey thus far.

“He's been super supportive. If there's something I didn't know how to do, he would teach me how to do it and vice versa,” Dalton said. “He was a pretty solid rock of support when it came to all of my [career] decisions.”

Looking forward, Dalton plans to continue teaching at a high school level and does not foresee returning to the professional kitchens in the future.

“My body can't do it anymore,” Dalton said. “That life is so physically hard on you. You get carpal tunnel syndrome and arthritis [in] your hands if you're not using the proper techniques.”

Although she doesn’t anticipate being a full time chef anymore, she has many exciting plans for the future that have stemmed from her roots as a barista.

“I think at some point, I'm going to wind up opening up my own business,” Dalton said. “By day it will be a collaborative environment. At night, there [will be] a secret door that leads to a tapas wine bar — coffee shop by day, party by night.”

Caption: April Dalton cooks Bananas Foster, a dessert consisting of bananas sautéd in butter, sugar and cinnamon. The bananas were cooked over a fire with rum and served atop a scoop of vanilla ice cream. “[Cooking] is not just like reading a piece of paper and making it happen," Dalton said. "There's a lot more involved and I don't think people realize that when they get into the kitchens."

ON THE GRIND

Noah Temple pioneers Junior Java and learns about himself through the world of entrepreneurship

Lathan Levy

Nyla Weathersby photographed by written by

To most, the origins of coffee is a mystery. But the most common belief is based on the story of a goat herder named Kaldi, who ate berries from an obscure tree in the ancient coffee tree forests of Ethiopia. After eating the berries, Kaldi experienced the power of ca ffeine. This discovery led to the worldwide obsession. In America, some may buy their ca ffeinated companions from Starbucks, others Dunkin’ — but some buy their coffee from Junior Java, a business founded by junior Noah Temple November 2019.

“I was in my seventh grade history class,” Temple said.“We were learning about imperialism, and [how] children in other countries don't have the same access to education as children do in America. It just didn't sit right with me throughout the whole lesson. I felt really bad and guilty, especially with the great education that we have here in Ladue, so I wanted to figure out a way to change it.”

Temple’s desire to assist those in need led him to create Junior Java, with the mission of improving disparity he saw across di fferent communities.

“Junior Java is a social enterprise in specialty Coffee and Tea Company, [which] helps bring education equity to children across the world,” Temple said.“We do that by donating a portion of every bag of coffee and tea we sell. So, with every bag, $5 worth of school supplies is given to children in need around the world.”

With Junior Java’s commitment towards assisting disadvantaged populations, the business has been successful in helping various areas.

“So far, we've been able to donate just over around $2,500 worth of school supplies, plus $500 to the youth ministry,” Temple said. “We've donated $50 to the Ladue Education Foundation and 200 meals to Saint Louis Area Foodbank.”

Building on this promising start, Temple has big ambitions for the future. Junior Java is partnered with World Vision, a humanitarian organization helping children, families and their communities overcome poverty and injustice. When Junior Java donates money, World Vision multiplies the amount through government grants. They have donated with World Vision since the beginning.

“One of our main goals is raising a million dollars worth of school supplies,” Temple said.

Besides the donating portion of Junior Java, Temple is active in his personal environment.

“For 2024, we've been doing a weekly Junior Java cafe at my church,” Temple said. “So every Sunday, I'll serve specialty coffee and tea and also hot drinks and stu ff, and be able to not only be able to help with the school supplies mission. I also get to donate a portion of the pro-

ceeds to our youth ministry at the church.”

Junior Dawit Muluye, Temple’s friend and the content creator for Junior Java, is dedicated to the company's mission of giving back.

“It is really beneficial for everybody because it's beneficial for the kids,” Muluye said. “It's beneficial for the consumers, it's beneficial for everybody in general. It's helping the communities that are in need while supporting small businesses and giving customers coffee.”

Adam Esayas, Temple’s friend who helps him with Junior Java finances, believes in the sentiment that Junior Java was born from.

“I think Junior Java is really good,” Esayas said. “It has a good motive behind it and it's just unique as a young kid to start this up.”

Ambition is the name of the game for Temple and Junior Java as they aspire towards bigger goals. Junior Java is creating a program called Coffee Kids, aimed to help middle school students learn about business endeavors. Coffee Kids are taught how to grow their business, become a better boss along with the ways of philanthropy.

“I want to mentor more Coffee Kids in my entrepreneurship program,” Temple said. “I want to build a program to be implemented across the country, whether that be in schools or through some other programs. I want children to have access to it across the country. I also want to be able to possibly get in a store, that'd be cool. [I want to] work on partnerships and impact more people.”

In order to ensure that his business would be supportive to his community and beyond, Temple was strategic in the selection of which industry he would choose to pursue in order to guarantee he'd make an impact.

“I knew that coffee and tea were the second and third most [consumed] beverages behind water,” Temple said. “I knew I could use that, especially at the margins on the product, to be able to help other people.”

In the beginning, Junior Java had a few believers in its future. But as the years have passed, Temple has grown, and so have Junior Java’s followers.

“[We’ve upgraded] our brand quality from the beginning,” Temple said. “[From] me in seventh grade roasting the coffee with [a] tiny roaster to being able to now roast on giant machines, have super high-quality coffee and upgrade my brand has been really amazing. And being able to update my impact has been amazing.”

As Junior Java has developed with their machinery they have also advanced their sourcing for their beans.

“We source it from countries around the world like Ethiopia, Honduras, Costa Rica [and] Peru ,” Temple said. “We have access to a lot more but we do that through a local supplier who helps us do that.”

Those around Temple have witnessed how passionate he is about Junior Java and how it has influenced him.

“When [Noah] was in middle school, I remember he used to always talk about his business,” Muluye said. “He used to promote his business by posting [on] YouTube and doing all that stu ff. I used to be really motivated by it. And he didn't stop promoting his business no matter what. I think that helped him with school too, like [the] need to get higher grades, [a] better business and everything like that. I think the business kind of motivated him and kept him focused on his goals.”

Esayas also sees the growth and new abilities Temple has gained through his work developing Junior Java and managing the business while juggling academics.

“I think Junior Java [has] made him a responsible guy,” Esayas said. “He's trustworthy, and I know that I can depend on him because he has this big business that he takes care of. So, I trust him.”

The want for improvement is an overarching theme in Temple’s life and thus encourages self-reflection. As he learns to manage Junior Java, he also learns life lessons.

“[Junior Java has] taught me many life lessons through time management, learning new entrepreneurial skills every day and new marketing skills,” Temple said. “Also, it's just given me a way to channel my passion. My passion is helping other people. That's such a broad topic, but through my business, I can first help people through the school supplies. I can help people by partnering with my church. Because I know more about business now I can always mentor people and our Coffee Kids Program, which is a entrepreneurship program we're developing and basically ready to implement, we will be able to help younger, middle-school level kids be able to learn about entrepreneurship. There's so many di fferent ways that I can help people and continue to work on my passion.”

In the world of business, regrets are inevitable. Temple is not immune to these emotions, and uses his past to better educate others to not make the same mistakes.

“[I’d tell my younger self to] use your resources,” Temple said. “First I was very scared and nervous telling people I have a business. Now using [my] resources, I've been able to do stu ff with Ladue; I was at the Due' run and I was able to sponsor the coffee for the career fair. I got connections with my church now too, and connections with di fferent conferences. I felt if I was more confident in the beginning I could have had access to those resources faster.”

Junior Java was conceived due to Temple’s ache for a more equitable world, reflected in the business slogan.

“Coffee for you, education for all,” Temple said.

Caption: Before service at Central Baptist Church, Junior Java is stationed near the entrance selling coffee. Every Sunday, Junior Java started hosting a mini cafe in the lobby of Central Baptist.“[In] just the month of January,[we've]donated$500directlytotheyouthministry,” Temple said.

CHANGING TUNES, CHANGING LIVES

Mac Huffman

Grace Kweon

photographed by

written by

SPREAD DESIGN BY GRACE KWEON

Listen to Murry's story here

An army of anxious teenagers armed with instruments, music stands and sheet music shuffle their feet on the ground in applause as the queen, dressed in black, steps onto her throne. The air is tense as she takes a last glance at her students around her, worries building in her mind. "Are they paying attention? Have we prepared enough?" But there's no time to fret. It's showtime, and all eyes are on her.

Baton in one hand, she then elegantly lifts her arms, causing instruments to rise and bows to sync quietly to their strings. Her arms follow a meticulous dance.

In response, a chorus of violins, violas, cellos and double basses harmonize. Like many times before, she relaxes as the music begins; it's beautiful.

Orchestra Director Twinda Murry is a musician for life. She chose teaching, and it chose her. But, she never always wanted to teach school orchestra.

When Murry was in college, she initially trained to teach the Suzuki method of teaching, which preaches that musical ability is not innate. Like a language, teaching listening, repetition and imitation can help anyone, especially children, learn how to play an instrument. She aspired to open a Suzuki studio where she would teach kids that were taking private lessons.

"Then as I got into the Suzuki program, I realized that only kids [whose] parents had some experience to know where to get lessons and had the means to get them lessons and an instrument would be able to participate," Murry said. "To me, that's an unfair advantage."

So, she switched careers. Her first job as a school teacher was spent 11 years at an elementary school in Hazelwood School District, where she later also accepted an opportunity to teach at the high school as well. She then found another opportunity in the Rockwood School District, where she then taught orchestra for 6 years, growing the program in quantity and quality.

"Then at the time, I had two small children and I felt like I needed to step back from the craziness of being an orchestra director," Mrs. Murry said. "So I quit for a year and the orchestra world came looking for me and that's how I ended up here in Ladue."

Although rejecting the initial offer first, Murry agreed to fill in for a Ladue teacher who left before the end of the year, teaching middle and elementary school orchestra part-time. Meanwhile, a friend recommended her for a another part-time job at the Holy Trinity Catholic school.

"Every student in that school had a chance to play violin, which most of them would never ever, ever have that opportunity," Murry said. "The instruments were owned by the school; most of the kids couldn't afford to get instruments of their own. So I felt very strongly that this

was something that I needed to do."

Teaching at Holy Trinity brought her incredible experiences, as she had the opportunity to meet numerous wonderful kids and families. However, after 7 years of part-time teaching there and in the Ladue District, the Ladue orchestra program expanded and she received an offer for a full time job. She has spent 18 years total teaching at Ladue, and does not regret it.

"So I had to let the other school go, which is very sad for me," Murry said. "But again, it was time for a new challenge."

Through the many years spent with Murry through the orchestra program, sophomore Audrey Raibley believes that Murry is a great conductor and organizer, holding the orchestra together while also adequately preparing everyone for important events like concerts, contests and the annual Kaleidoscope music festival. Her retirement this year wasn't very surprising considering her many years in teaching, but many were downhearted.

"She's really good at understanding that we have a lot going on as high schoolers," Raibley said. "We're gonna miss her a ton."

The orchestra's Associate Director Sarah Heuerman has known her for 3 years and best as her "partner in crime." As for the person stepping into her role, she believes that Murry's preparation has set them up for success. However, it's definitely not pleasant to bid farewell.

"I'm sad because she has a wealth of knowledge," Heuerman said. "But, I'm also happy that she's going to have time for herself and more time for projects outside of school."

Switching jobs this often is definitely not the stability the average person is looking for, yet Murry believes that changes in life are worth it. By opening herself to new opportunities with ambition, she discovered countless new people and memorable experiences.

"Take on something [new], even if it means seeking a new position altogether," Murry said. "[Try to take on] different schools and different situations, [even] if it just means adding something [new] to what you're already doing in your current job."

Caption: April 4, Twinda Murry conducts her last formal concert at the Ladue Performing Arts Center. However, her pursuit in music did not stop there. "I think most musicians don't retire for real," Murry said. "Although [I am] technically [going to be retired], this is kind of another one of those career shifts." (on page 54-55)

Twinda Murry plays the violin in her orchestra room. She has three essential vitamins in life; teaching in schools, private teaching and performing. "If I only did school orchestra, I would still survive," Murry said. "If I can keep all three of those going, which is difficult, then I feel like I can be a complete whole musician and be able to give a lot to a lot of people." (on page 57)

"I need to be able to help whoever has the desire to learn to play."

Twinda Murry, Orchestra Director

The room is silent. The chemicals in the IV slowly flow into his body through the needle in his arm. A minute passes, 10 minutes, an hour, more. The effects creep up together. Headaches, nausea, heartburn, confining him to his hospital bed. He’s tired, but he can’t sleep. He can’t sleep, but he can’t move. There is nothing in his world but dull, throbbing pain.

Of all the illnesses in the world, none inspire as much terror to modern hearts as cancer. It flowers over months or even years unseen, killing silently. According to the National Cancer Institute, 39.5% of men and women will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetimes. An estimated 610,000 Americans died of cancer in 2023 alone. Like most other diseases, it is nightmarish in more than one way: it is unimaginable. But for math teacher Drew Calandrelli, it was a reality.

Diagnosis

In March 2017, Drew noticed a lump in his body. Believing it to be a cyst, he went to his doctor to have it checked on. He underwent an ultrasound examination, and then the results came back.

“The doctor [said], ‘It's cancer,’” Drew said. “And I was like, ‘Oh, crap. That was not what I expected.’”

His family reacted similarly.

“When he gave us the news, I remember going numb,” his mother Kimberly Calandrelli said. “At that very moment, my entire world collapsed. I wanted to scream, cry, and vomit, all at the same time, but I knew I needed to be strong for Drew. He sat us down, explained what kind of cancer he had and what he would probably be facing. I felt so helpless. I knew nothing about this disease. All I heard was the word cancer and I was terrified.”

Drew had embryonal carcinoma, a relatively rare cancer where escaped sex cells grow as tumors. The cancer had quickly spread to his lymph nodes. While early stage cancer can be removed with surgery alone, Drew’s cancer was more advanced and required chemotherapy. Involving injecting chemicals into the body to target fast-growing cells, chemotherapy can effectively deal with cancer cells but also causes immense collateral damage.

“It was hard to believe that this poison they were putting into his body was making him better,” Kimberly said. “He lost all of his beautiful hair and his skin tone turned grayish. The chemo made him sick and weak.”

Aside from making him lose his hair, chemotherapy had numerous negative effects on Drew. It attacked his stomach and his esophagus, forcing him to take acid reflux pills. It hampered his nervous system, which to this day hasn’t perfectly recovered. But most devastating of all were the effects on the brain.

“It's almost like your brain isn't smart enough to do

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Mac Huffman

Frank Chen

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Math teacher Drew Calandrelli impacted him

Drew Calandrelli

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things anymore,” Drew said. “I wasn’t smart enough to watch movies. I wasn’t smart enough to play video games. My brain was going 20,000 miles per hour, and it took a while for it to get back to being able to focus on things.”

The Calandrelli family was deeply shaken by the crisis. At the time of his diagnosis, Drew’s wife Savannah was pursuing a PhD in biomedical science. Even though she’d extensively studied cancer, Drew’s illness devastated her.

“Nothing prepares you for cancer impacting so close to home,” Savannah said. “I think both Drew and I struggled to come to terms with the fact that we were not invincible and that sometimes our health is completely out of our control.”

Savannah used her medical knowledge to help Drew throughout the treatment process.

“She knew what questions to ask and was able to explain the confusing medical jargon in terms we could understand,” Drew’s father Brad Calandrelli said. “She was a godsend. She is the one who helped him through the darkest period of his life.”

Recovery

As the months went on, the chemotherapy worked its magic, and Drew’s cancer gradually subsided. On July 3, 2017, Drew underwent his last chemo treatment.

“The day he got to ring the bell after his last chemo treatment at the hospital is a day I will never forget,” Kimberly said. “The halls were lined with family and friends, along with all the nurses who helped him. Everyone was holding balloons, clapping and cheering for him.”

But the process wasn’t done there. Even years after treatments end, patients often get follow-up checkups to prevent a resurgence of the cancer.

“One of the things with cancer that I didn't realize going in was how long the disease is,” Drew said. “Even after a person is cured of cancer, there's so much more follow up and so much more after that. There’s scans and tests every three to six months, and whether or not you're under active treatment, you're still under surveillance.”

But, as Savannah puts it, “All’s well that ends well.”

Reflections

For the Calandrelli family, Drew’s struggles cast cancer in an entirely different light. Even though they’d been Partner’s in Hope with St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital for over 35 years, it was only after Drew’s bout with it that they saw cancer in its true magnitude.

“During Drew’s treatments at the cancer center, I saw how prevalent cancer is,” Brad said. “The cancer center was full of patients going through the same agonizing treatments that Drew was going through. Unfortunately, not all of those other patients have had the same positive results that Drew had. Almost everyone knows a family member or a friend who has been diagnosed with cancer. Chronic ill-

ness certainly takes a physical and emotional toll not only on the person who is sick, but also on all their family and friends as well.”

Drew’s experiences also gave him a heightened awareness of those less able in society. Many buildings in our communities are inaccessible to people in wheelchairs. The ill and disabled also commonly struggle with childcare, shopping and day-to-day activities in general.

“The Americans with Disabilities Act in the 1990s was great, but we have so much further to go,” Drew said. “There’s a lot of accommodations that people with chronic illnesses and disabilities need to live in society but there’s still so many gaps.”

But as much as their experiences changed the Calandrellis’ views on society at large, it also changed the dynamic of their own family.

“Drew's experience with cancer allowed us to live in the moment more,” Savannah said. “I think we have a much greater appreciation for the day-to-day, and as a family, we really prioritize making memories and experiences. We take every opportunity to visit friends and family, go on vacation and take our son on adventures that he enjoys. For us, this is so much more important than driving new cars or chasing every promotion or career move that would take us away from spending time together as a family unit.”

But as much as Drew was changed by his experiences, some things stayed the same.

“Drew never complained once throughout this process,” Brad said. “During this difficult time, Drew was more concerned about his parents and tried to shield us from all of the pain and suffering he was going through. I have learned that Drew is one of the toughest people I know.”

Captions: Years after diagnosis, Drew is officially cancer-free. However, some effects continue to affect patients "It's just your new normal," Drew said. "You kind of live with it forever."

Drew begins his first day of chemotherapy. Drew underwent 18 total chemo treatments. "I'd have a very long week of chemo, and once you start feeling a little better they'll knock you back down," Drew said.

Throughout treatment, Drew tried to break bad news to his family as gently as possible. After he began losing hair during chemotherapy, Drew decided to shave it all off. "He sentusapictureofhimdressedlikethebaldCaptainPicard from Star Trek," Brad said. "That was probably the most emotional I was during the entire ordeal."

Drew hugs Savannah after his last chemotherapy treatment. Savannah had guided the family throughout the process. "We were so grateful to have Savannah with us," Kimberly said.

Drew celebrates being officially cancer-free. For a month after his last chemo treatment, the Calandrellis had anxiously awaited the results of a blood test. The doctors had detected a sudden spike in proteins in Drew's blood,

"Nothing prepares you for cancer impacting so close to home." Savannah Sims, Drew's wife

Neighborhoods closed off for festive holiday parades crowded with celebrating families. Cricket games with siblings and cousins, the winning team gloating with pride and basking in their victory. Fresh aromas and haggling voices call out from vendors’ carts in the evenings. This is some of what junior Aneesh Patil remembers from the lively streets of his childhood. These roads stretched through the stages of his life, leading him throughout southern India and guiding his family’s path until they eventually brought him here – to the U.S.

Aneesh was accompanied on this journey by his immediate family, including his mother Anu, his father Prakash and his older brother Aparneesh. This family has adapted to countless locations, proximities and distances from one another, beginning when the boys were still young.

Prakash’s job as an IT professional had taken him to the Western hemisphere many times before the family moved permanently in 2015. They visited the U.S. for the first time when Aneesh was just 10 months old.

“We came here in 2008 for a short time, and then the project ended for my husband’s work and we moved back to India,” Anu said.

Prakash also frequently traveled to Canada for shortterm work projects while the boys were young. His job led them from Kalaburagi - a city formerly known as Gulbarga - where Aneesh was born, to Bangalore and eventually to Hyderabad. They lived in Hyderabad for five years before Prakash began a project back in the U.S.

“My husband came [to the U.S.] in 2014, because it was a longtime project and he had to come,” Anu said. “Then we moved in 2015, but first we moved to LA, [where] my cousin was staying, and then from there, we came to St. Louis.”

However, her plan had not always been to follow Prakash across the ocean. Anu initially had doubts about leaving their home in India, but being away from their father proved too difficult for her children.

“Me and my brother were missing him a lot,” Aparneesh said. “So, they made the decision that maybe it's better to move the whole family over to the United States so that we're all closer together instead of being far apart.”

This decision to reunite the family also gave the children a chance to adapt to American life. While the transition was seamless in many ways, Aneesh and Aparneesh struggled to overcome the linguistic barrier.

“[In the U.S.], you usually always talk in English,” Aparneesh said. “[In India], you can easily switch languages, and I think that was pretty cool.”

The monolinguistic culture of the U.S was difficult for Aneesh to adjust to because of his limited experience with English from his previous school curriculum.

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Vincent Hsiao

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Aneesh Patil learns to adapt to life in the U.S. after leaving his home in India

“The fact that everyone spoke fluent English was a pretty big setback for me because I spoke English, but it was broken English,” Aneesh said.

However, this obstacle was not completely insurmountable. Once the family was situated together in the U.S., Aneesh’s parents quickly stepped in to ensure their boys did not fall behind in their education at school.

“He had to take some classes for English,” Anu said. “We had to put him into Kumon only because his English reading level was different… In India, it is British English, everything is all followed by Oxford so the pronunciations are different.”

According to his mother, Aneesh was a very fast learner and picked up the pronunciation quickly. While the adjustment to life in the U.S. was fairly smooth, it's been difficult for the family to be away from home for so long. Anu and her sons have not been able to return to India since 2016 due to the strict rules of their visas, and Prakash has not visited home since his project began in 2014.

“We would love to visit, but the immigration laws prohibit us,” Aneesh said.

The Patil’s visa needs to be extended every three years, and they must undergo a stamping process if they wish to leave the country. This stamping can be difficult, especially at the immigration office in India. This obstacle made leaving India even harder for the family.

“Of course that is [difficult] because you live far away from your parents,” Anu said. “My dad passed away and I was unable to go because of [my] visa. My tickets were booked for August last year, but… I would be stuck [in India] until my stamping was done over there… so I had to cancel my ticket.”

Losing his grandfather was difficult for Aneesh, particularly because his family was not able to return to India to be with the rest of the family. He searched for ways to cope, and turned to working out to relieve his stress.

“[My grandfather had] a pretty big role in my life and he was very influential,” Aneesh said. “The gym helped me get away from the mourning of that and it helped me get better from being sad from that.”

Isolation from family was not the only difficulty with the new country. In addition, the urban sprawl in major cities of the U.S makes transportation complicated, compared to the relative walkability and public transportation systems that are accessible to the public in India.

“I feel more independent in India,” Anu said. “In India we can go anywhere, travel without a car or anything; you can travel by yourself. I don't drive here because I have some health issues. But in India, you can book an auto or a cab or anything. It is so easy to go around. Now, I have to depend on Aneesh or my husband to drive me or have to book a cab here.”

However, the family has found that living in the U.S. has come with some new benefits and advantages.

“Technologically, [the U.S.] is far better than India,” Anu said. “But now India is developing a lot. There's lots of changes from when we left and at present right now, it's so different. Technologically in India, it is really going fast. When we left it was not up to that time. Only IT was developing, but now it is not only IT but in other aspects also.”

Fortunately, the Patils have been able to stay connected with Indian culture and Hindu religion while living in the U.S. Selected by his grandfather, Aneesh’s own name serves as a representation of his religious identity.

“My first name comes from Hindu scripture, where it states it means superior or one above all,” Aneesh said.

Another piece of this connection revolves around religious celebrations and festivals, held for most Hindu holidays. Holidays play a significant role in Hindu culture and tradition, and they are often widely observed.

“We have an Indian calendar where we know when the festival falls,” Anu said. “There’s so many festivals, but [for] the major festivals we do celebrate with a couple of friends.”

The family belongs to The Hindu Temple of St. Louis, located in Ballwin. There, they perform puja, or acts of worship, especially surrounding the holidays.

“We went to a bunch of Indian events, and those were really amazing,” Aparneesh said. “You get to communicate with people of the same language and state as you. You can just speak in your own language, which is pretty nice and out of the ordinary because you're usually just speaking English all the time.”

In India, entire cities are shut down during these festivals, and massive parades are held for people to participate in and observe. Even when not celebrating a holiday, Aneesh’s old neighborhoods burst with culture and life.

“There [are] street vendors all over the place [where] you can go in the evening," Aneesh said. "[There are] bustling towns and markets all over the place. You can buy fruits, you can buy vegetables, you can buy snacks; it's just very vibrant.”

Captions: Junior Aneesh Patil displays photos of his familyonavacationinChicago.Hisfamilyreunitedinthe U.S. after being apart from his father for a year. “I didn't want to come to U.S. at the beginning [but my sons] were missing their dad,” his mother Anu said. “That was the reason I had to move here." (on pages 64-65)

Young Aneesh pets a calf and smiles for the camera. As a child, he made many memories with his family in India. "We used to play cricket on Saturdays inside and this one time, he hit the ball too hard and it broke a light," Aparneesh said. (on page 66)

Aneesh works out many times a week at Club Fitness in Creve Coeur. His passion for lifting began 2 years ago. "What it did for me was reduce all the stress I had," Aneesh said. (on page 67)

Michael Zegel

written by Rory Lustberg

LIVING HISTORY

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Teacher Meg Kaupp recalls her experience living in Germany

War is often a time of sorrow, violence and loss. Even just hearing the word projects a dim cloud over the mind. War takes and never looks back. However, for teacher Meg Kaupp, this was the complete opposite. In the time of the Cold War, Germany provided more than just a nice vacation for her. Since her teenage years, through her young adult life and all the way up to her professional career, Germany has been her largest influence. Professions and true love have all stemmed from this country.

“The interest was there my whole life,” Meg said. “I have no idea where that came from. There's obviously family history, as many Americans have, but I really wanted to be able to read and speak German. I was really intrigued with German history.”

There was no question about where her future led. The decision was final: she had to see Germany.

“I went to Germany when I was 16 for a year to start [American Field Service],” Meg said. “I was there for my junior year of high school and then I did a double major in college and one of those was in German. Then after I graduated from college, I had a Fulbright to Germany for a year, which is a study fellowship.”

Through all the studying and travels, Kaupp discovered another passion — history. After teaching a variety of subjects for 22 years, history was the one that stuck, and eventually brought her back to Germany.

“It's easier to understand what's happening in the world today when you understand where we were before,” Meg said. “I like feeling connected to people in places that no longer exist because you see the foundation of what was laid then. To me, there's a timeless element to it that I really like.”

Her passion for history stemmed from Kaupp being right in the middle of history itself. The Berlin Wall was constructed in the early 1960s and taken down by the German people in 1989, and Kaupp witnesssed it all.

“Back when Germany was divided, there were no Americans,” Meg said. “It was difficult to get to East Germany, so we had host families in the West. They made sure we went to East Germany. In order to get to West Berlin, you had to go through the east border. We took a train and when we got to the border, the soldiers got on for their passport check. We had to have special transit visas in order to travel. They had guns and German shepherds with them, and it was very intimidating.”

While the regulations in the East were strict, that’s not how the city portrayed itself. The rules provided a backbone for the well-being of the country itself.

“I felt it was very safe there,” Meg said. "We would walk into stores and I remember there being children wagons, or like you call them [in German], kindergarten, the strollers. The kids would be in them. The parents would be shopping and they would leave their kids outside in the strollers while they ran into the store to grab something really fast.”

The city was safe, but not because the city was filled with hope, but because every day, citizens lived in fear of unlawful imprisonment. While Berlin was divided, its people were united in the walls' destruction.

“I remember being in Berlin,” Meg said. "We were there when the wall fell. On the western side you could walk right up to the wall. We took sledge hammers and little chisels. We went in at about 10 o'clock at night and they had these huge floodlights on the Brandenburg Gate there in the heart of Berlin. So we didn't want to obviously go there. So we went a little bit further down and we're sitting there just being goofy kids, hammering on the wall, [and] suddenly two guards walked up to us. They were Eastern guards and we freaked out. What you don't realize about the Berlin Wall is that it was two walls in Berlin. There was this 'no man's land' and they had land mines there.”

Experiences, like being a living part of history, stay with a person for life. The memory of the fall of the Berlin Wall remained with Kaupp, enough to make her want to move back to Germany.

“I think about it all the time, this idea of being in the middle of that, because about five years later I moved back to Germany,” Meg said. “I moved back to the former East and I was one of two Americans in the city.”

While it may appear lonely being only one of two Americans in a city, this exclusivity attracted the eyes of a particular German man: Boris Kaupp, her soon-tobe husband. Meg and Boris came from wildly different backgrounds.

“My hometown is a tiny village with about 300 inhabitants right at the border of the Black Forest; it is very rural,” Boris said. “What I liked as a child is that you were always out in nature. I could leave my parents house, walk 100 yards and be in the woods.”

However, in the 1980s, growing up meant every young man was required to serve his country, Boris included. While he wasn’t there to witness the falling, he still remembers when it came down.

“That was the number one thing on the news every single day for a year or so, but I had never been to the [German Democratic Republic]," Boris said. “I had little idea of how things actually were in the GDR except for some things that you read about. Funnily enough, I remember getting annoyed that there was nothing else on the news. It only struck me years later what a big deal that was.”

"It's not the events that drive people. It's the people that drive the events."

Meg Kaupp

Shortly after his service, when schooling began, Boris had a new mission in mind: meeting the love of his life.

“We met in the North East of Germany, which actually is the former GDR, and we were both living in the same city at the time and we were friends for a good while,” Boris said.

They didn’t stop at just friends. Boris quickly took notice of the newcomer.

“Meg was the only American in that entire city of 50,000 people, so she was quite well known,” Boris said.

They tied the knot a couple years later. After living in Germany for a little while, another big decision was made, coming back to St. Louis and starting a family. However, this family in St. Louis stemmed greater than just their immediate family. A family was started in the teaching space at Ladue. Teacher Riley Keltner shares high praise for Meg.

“It's always been a really special relationship,” Keltner said. “She is someone who I looked up to from my very first day of student teaching. I always found her to just be so cool. She is just effortlessly cool. She has really been a role model for me and how I want to teach. I've always seen her as someone who has very high expectations for her students, but also someone who is always there for her students and knows her students better than anybody. That combination of being able to have great relationships, but also hold your students to a very high standard is something I've tried to model my own teaching after.”

Through countless hours of teaching, Kaupp and Keltner have built a friendship that has gone further than just a smile and a wave in the halls.

“We are very close friends,” Keltner said. “We do things outside of school together. “I have the dream one day where she will accompany me to Germany because my family came from there in the 1700s,” Keltner said. "I would love for us to go on that trip together so she could translate for me.”

Through 22 years of living through history, Meg Kaupp has quite the resume, all shaped by the influence of Germany that spurred her passion for history.

“I like to think that human beings play a bigger role in shaping history than we sometimes realize,” Kaupp said.

Captions: Teacher Meg Kaupp speaks on her time in Germany as a teenager. She has been teaching at Ladue for 19 years and has taught German, AP Psychology and World History. “I've always loved history," Meg said. “I also studied history in college. That's really what took me back to Germany.”

16-year-old Meg Kaupp hammers away at the Berlin Wall. Soon after the photo was taken, she was approached by eastern gaurds who granted her passage in between the two walls. “The eastern guards were so incredibly friendly,” Meg said.

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