LAKESIDE
made you look
WATERSHED MOMENT
Last July, Seattle was awarded a record $160 million settlement from Monsanto for the company’s role in polluting city stormwater and the Lower Duwamish River with highly toxic PCBs. Laura MacColl ’73 Wishik served as the city’s lead attorney in its eight-year battle to hold the chemical giant responsible for decades of environmental harm. (See “Vashon Islander Takes On Monsanto,” page 48.) The photo here comes from Tom Reese’s “Once and Future River: Reclaiming the Duwamish,” a surprisingly lush, photography-rich book that explores the complicated relationship between Seattleites and their only river. From the book’s official description: “Central to the Indigenous settlement that preceded the city, the Duwamish was critical to Seattle’s founding and growth, but it has paid a steep price. Straightened, filled with trash and toxins, and generally neglected by those who benefited from it the most, the river was declared a Superfund site in 2001.”
Funds from the historic settlement are expected to pay for PCB removal, future cleanup, and community education on point-source pollution.
TALK TO US
We welcome your suggestions, reactions, and letters. Reach us at magazine@lakesideschool.org; Lakeside Magazine 14050 1st Ave. NE Seattle, WA 98125-3099
FIND US Facebook facebook.com/lakesideschool Instagram @Lakeside. Lions
FEATURES
Introducing the the final pieces of the puzzle to the new strategic plan. by Kai Bynum and the strategic plan steering committee SPECIAL SECTION
Uncharted Territory 22 by Evelyn Spence ’94
The Narrative Landscape 28 by Evelyn Spence ’94
• OUTDOOR PROGRAMS
• GLOBAL SERVICE LEARNING
• SERVICE LEARNING
Outdoor Narratives 30
The Heart of the Andes 32 photographs by Belami Cárdenas
GSL Reflections 36
What Does It Mean To Be a Community Member? 38 by Aly Counsell-Torres ’13
Service Perspectives 40
Letters 2
Calendar of Events 60
INSIDE LAKESIDE
Campus Briefs 3
Lakeside Sketchbook 4-5
Teaching tools 6-7
Math at Lakeside & The Downtown School 8
Student Showcase 9
Lakeside Summer Institute 10
The Nurse’s Office 10
Athletics 11
Faculty & Staff Notes 12
From the Archives 13
ALUMNI NEWS
Events 42
Alum Board 43
Distinguished Alumni Award 44
Class Connections 45
In Memoriam 56
On the cover: Poster by Erick Ingraham
LAKESIDE MAGAZINE STAFF
EDITOR Jim Collins
DIRECTOR OF COMMUNICATIONS
Amanda Darling
ALUMNI
RELATIONS NEWS
Amanda Campbell
ART DIRECTOR
Carol Nakagawa
EDITORIAL ASSISTANT
Lorelei S. '25
WRITERS
Lorelei S. ’25, Kat Yorks, Rohan D. ’25, Leslie Schuyler, Kai Bynum, Amanda Darling, Evelyn Spence ’94, Debby Heath, Jim Collins, Aly CounsellTorres ’13, Samara N.’26, Emerson K.’27, Connor D.’27
ARTISTS & PHOTOGRAPHERS
Erick Ingraham, Tom Reese, David O. Smith ’04, Amber P. ’25, Jordan Kines, Lia S. ’25, Chloe Collyer, Scott Malagold, Roy Arauz, Brady L. ’26, Beniam Yetbarek, Katie M. Simmons
COPY EDITOR
Mark Watanabe
PROOFREADERS
Kathleen Triesch Saul Judy Bauer
LETTERS
Swing and a miss
I READ THE ARTICLE [“Corbin Carroll’s Superpower,” Spring/Summer 2024] three times, changing my mind about Corbin as a person each time. The first time, I thought he was one of the strangest people I had ever read about. The second time, I dropped “strange” and concluded he was a product of what his parents preached, which set his path and processing skills. The third time, I read it from a Lakeside perspective and realized the school, team, fellow students, teachers, and coaches had rounded out many of his “edges,” allowing the world to see and share a unique human be ing who wants to share and be a part of the universe just like the rest of us. Bravo to the author and Lakeside team who put this masterpiece together.
— Lawrence Ring
I WAS SHOCKED to see that in the 12-page profile of Corbin Carroll ’19 and baseball at Lakeside there was not a single mention of Mark Klauber ’89. Without Mark’s hard work, Corbin perhaps wouldn’t even have played baseball at Lakeside, because there would be no team. Mark (as well as a number of other Lakesiders at the time — Tom Coyle ’89, Ethan Janson ’89, and myself, among others) worked hard to get the baseball program restarted in the spring of 1989. See attached photo of that first team.
— Kevin Haggard ’89
What Might Keep Me Up at Night
TO THE EDITOR:
When I tell people I attended Lakeside, the response is usually something like: That’s a very good school. I’m quick to tell them it’s a much better school today than when I attended. When I attended, it was still transitioning from a school for boys who needed more discipline to a very good school. Through hard work of teachers, administrators, parents, trustees, etc., Lakeside made the complicated journey.
I’ve had various involvements with the school. I often think about what would be on my mind if I were now the board chair, the head, or a trustee. Different than my first tour of duty on the board in about 1982, Lakeside has a well-defined mission today. For me, the first sentence captures it:
To develop in intellectually capable young people, the creative minds, healthy bodies, and ethical spirits needed to contribute wisdom, compassion, and leadership to a global society.
This could be leadership in any area — public service, business, teaching, medicine, sports, research, etc. In all areas, we need people with strong critical thinking to help our global society.
When I was board chair, I reminded people that the mission said nothing about getting into a “great” college. I’ve always believed that college is just a gate. Going through a “good” gate is better than going through a “bad” gate, but it’s just a gate. In my mind, it’s more important what you do there than where you go. As the mission stresses, it’s what you do with your life in a global society.
As the head or a trustee, it’s easy to get caught up in the moment. I remember when we almost went to war internally on requiring laptops or adding one section to each class in the Upper School, stepping in one year at a time. In the rearview mirror today, those crises barely look like speed bumps in the evolution.
To get above the immediate, I’d try to think about this. When our students are out in the world 10, 20, or 30 years from now, will they look back on the Lakeside experience as giving them those skills to provide leadership to a global society?
I was slow. I didn’t look back and realize Lakeside gave me those skills until I was out 20-plus years. I appreciate it more now than ever, and it helps me sleep well.
— Matt Griffin ’69
Editor’s Note: In addition to serving as president of the Board of Trustees from 2003 to 2005, Matt Griffin chaired Lakeside’s $50 million capital campaign (1995-98) and co-chaired the $135 million capital campaign (2005-08). In 2011, he received the school’s Distinguished Alumni Award.
Campus Briefs
CONSTRUCTION, PART 1
On Aug, 30, just in time for the new school year, Sound Transit completed the Lynwood Link Extension of its light rail service. (A festive celebration of the opening featured speeches, food trucks, and exhibits from local businesses and organizations, including an “admissions booth” from Lakeside.) Among the four newly opened stations is Shoreline South/148th, which now brings passengers to within a ten-minute walk of Lakeside’s campus. The school is initially providing limited bus service to and from the station during the morning and afternoon, and refine its service as ride information for students, staff, and faculty settles out over the course of the coming months. The light rail expansion is fueling a major upgrade and changes to the I-5/N 145th Street interchange, which will include new roundabouts, pedestrian crossings, and bike lanes intended to enhance safety, reduce congestion, and create a more connected community. The neighborhood is already seeing a dramatic change in its skyline: the emergence of two large apartment buildings directly to the north of Lakeside’s campus.
CONSTRUCTION, PART 2
Construction is on schedule, meanwhile, for the new academic building at the Upper School. After a fall of site preparation and earth moving, construction crews from BNBuilders moved into foundation and structure work as the seasons changed. Located on the southwest corner of campus, the new two-story academic building will feature humanities classrooms and science labs; a wide variety of community spaces; outdoor spaces for learning and communitybuilding; and a special time capsule with items commemorating the year of construction. The building is a key infrastructure project in Hope in Action: An Empowering Strategic Plan for Lakeside School (see page 15), and will further Lakeside’s ability to provide inspiring campuses that support dynamic learning and community engagement. The building is anticipated to open by fall 2026. Reg-
Continued on next page
“ single quote
In March 1967,the
Lakeside Mothers’ Club,
as their official organization was known, borrowed space in a downtown office building, and in three days they raised about $3,000, enough to rent a cutting-edge Teletype ASR-33 and pay for enough computer time to get started. The amusing part of this miracle is that no one knew how to use the thing. Mr. Dougall exhausted his programming knowledge within a week. A math teacher named Fred Wright had studied the FORTRAN programming language, but had no practical computer experience. Still, on a hunch that this terminal was a good thing, the school bet that someone would figure it out.”
— Bill Gates ’73, from his forthcoming memoir, “Source Code” (Knopf, publication date Feb. 4, 2025)
ular updates on the project are shared at lakesideschool.org/about-us/neighborhood.
INTERGROUP DIALOGUE
Alarge part of the school’s professional development this year will focus on learning more about the fundamentals of good dialogue. Through guest lectures, readings, guided exercises, and self-reflection, teachers and staff members are gaining a shared framework and the skills needed as a school to navigate conversations around complex and challenging topics. During the fall semester, a mini “Dialogue Series” of webinars introduced skills and strategies to our community of parents and guardians. One of the webinars, focused on adult-to-child conversations, recognized the special skills needed to effectively communicate with children during the many high-conflict and high-emotion situations that come up during the time of adolescence.
DIVERSITY CAREER FAIR
As a member of POCIS NW (People of Color in Independent Schools), Lakeside participates in programs that are designed to bring our communities together across the independent schools of the Puget Sound region. One of the events that we’ve been co-hosting for a few years now is the Diversity Career Fair, an event that we designed and co-created with a vision of community, collaboration, and connection in mind. Our schools strive to have a student and employee body that reflects our city, and we know that while that may not always be possible in our individual schools, together, we can provide opportunities for critical connection and community building. This year, we are excited to host two events for the Diversity Career Fair, a virtual one on Saturday, Feb. 9, on Zoom that is accessible to candidates from all over the world, and an in-person event on Sunday, March 8, at The Bush School. For more information and to register, visit: pocisnorthwest.org/diversity-career-fair/
“Ultimate Practice” 2024, Watercolor, 30" x 42"
This painting, and others in the "Lakeside Sketchbook" series, are available for purchase at DavidOSmithArtist.com continued from previous page
— Debbie Bensadon
The quad on a fall afternoon
SLANTING AUTUMN LIGHT and a blur of activity light up the grassy practice field of Lakeside’s Athletics Program: the Bx Ultimate Flag Football team. A club sport for more than three decades (the team known, cheekily, as the “Loins”), ultimate gained official sports designation beginning in the 2022-2023 school year. Some 40 players between the Bx varsity and JV teams participate in the fall. A girls team with 10-15 players competes in the spring.
TEACHING
lakeside
Connie's Trunk
IN THE CORNER OF 7TH-GRADE
social studies teacher Merissa Reed’s classroom, across from about 80 new young adult copies of “Stamped” and posters about different marginalized groups, there’s a faded and chipped green trunk that’s been at Lakeside since before Reed’s students were born. It belonged to Director of Student and Family Support Jamie Asaka’s grandmother, Connie Tamura Asaka. When Connie was incarcerated as a teenager along with thousands of other Japanese Americans during World War II, it contained all her belongings, everything she valued most in the world.
It’s a heartbreaking part of the Asaka family history — and an essential part of the curriculum, says Reed, because it serves to “superhumanize Connie when, in general, people like her were being dehumanized intentionally as part of the war hysteria.” Lakeside 7th graders learn about othering and exclusion in history through the lens of the American dream, something that Connie’s belongings (and her experience) bring to life in a tactile, tangible way. Students get to engage with these pieces of history and understand, at least to some extent, Connie as a person and as a piece of history herself.
Reed remembers her own lack of knowledge about the World War II incarceration of Japanese Americans until she was in college, adding, “It’s a way of reminding students that their knowledge and the way that they’re approaching the learning of history now may be very different from the way the adults in their lives have experienced history,” she says. “As in: Don’t take for granted that these narratives that you’re learning are also going to be known, and don’t be afraid to engage in those conver sations.”
— Lorelei S. ’25
BY THE 1940S, Connie’s father and his brother had accrued a good deal of wealth from the logging business in the Cascades; some of their work is documented in this scrapbook. During incarceration, the family lost essentially all of their wealth, assets, and property. Furthermore, Connie’s father was marked by the FBI as a suspect of collusion with Japan because of his wealth and frequent visits to his younger children; no Japanese American was ever found guilty of this in the years following the war.
ASAKA’S GRANDMOTHER was taken when she was a high school upperclassman, and she unofficially finished high school at Tule Lake, where she was issued this “pretend di ploma.” Asaka cites her grandmother’s resentment at her own lack of education as the reason her father, Gary Asaka ’68, and herself (’96) ended up attending Lakeside.
YEARS AGO, Asaka found the trunk in her grandmother’s garage and decided to loan it to Lakeside long-term as a tool for learning. She wants to emphasize how “incredibly lucky we are” to have this piece of history. She says she feels privileged, almost “ashamed,” to have these items, which have brought her family a certain amount of peace, closure, and connection to Connie, despite the horrific time and experience it’s connected to.
THIS ADDRESS BOOK, another original item in the trunk and one used before and after the war, “went from having information on all the prominent business people to job ads to be a part-time driver at SeaTac,” Asaka says. The changing address information exemplifies the upheaval of Japanese Americans’ lives during and long after incarceration.
AFTER HIS WIFE died in childbirth, Asaka’s greatgreat-grandfather sent his two younger children to live with his family in Japan, keeping the oldest, Connie, with him in the U.S. In this picture frame, Connie kept photos of her siblings, her father, and her family overseas.
THIS “AUTOGRAPH BOOK” contains dozens of handwritten messages, addressed to and collected by Connie when she was transferred from Tule Lake to Minidoka, Idaho, in September 1943. The messages are overwhelmingly sweet and positive, Asaka points out, with some vague references to a future that was entirely up in the air.
A New Oral Tradition?
APART OF the Middle School’s 8th-grade English curriculum is gaining a national reputation. Known as “The Podcast Unit,” the four-week-long midwinter focus on audio storytelling takes teaching materials — and inspiration — from the New York Times Student Podcast Contest, an annual competition that routinely attracts more than a thousand submissions from middle and high schoolers across the country.
The unit, created by former teacher Susie Mortensen and refined by Sarah Callender and Adam GrahamSilverman, leaves a lot of the learning and creation to the students. The teachers give access to recording and editing platforms and provide examples of other student-produced podcasts (including episodes from KUOW’s “Radioactive” series), but otherwise let the students’ curiosity and exploration lead them. The classroom instruction centers on nontech tools such as interviewing, reporting, and narrative structure. “I teach about how to tell a story,” says Callender.
Most of the students ultimately choose to enter their work in the competition, meeting requirements for length, originality, and a written artist’s statement. The Middle School formula seems to be working: Of the winners and honorable mentions over the past five years of the contest, a remarkable 18 have come from Lakeside.
PRIMES alums (and current MIT undergrads) Raina Wu ’24, Michael Yang ’24, and Alex Zhao ’24 welcomed Rohan D. ’25 (second from left) to the 2024 conference.
Formula for Success
LAST OCTOBER, I gave a math presentation at MIT’s fall 2024 PRIMES conference, a two-day marathon of 30 math talks presented by high schoolers who had conducted original research. On top of the standard knots, Jones polynomials, and Khovanov homologies, I did something quite unusual for a formal math lecture: added in jokes, math puns, and funny faces. And the reason I was able to do that was because of Lakeside’s own math community.
I grew up in Spokane — where math, at least at my school, was solely an academic subject, not an extracurricular activity. Sure, there was that one math competition per year, but most people (including myself) took it more as an opportunity to eat free pizza and socialize than to actually
DTS x AWS Academy
WHEN LAKESIDE founded
The Downtown School in 2018, it was envisioned as a “lab school,” a nimble place of learning where bold ideas and novel approaches could be tried and tested. In addition to hands-on partnerships with downtown-area businesses and organizations, a recent collaboration with a local — and global — corporation has expanded the school’s unique “City As Campus” approach to education.
The Downtown School has become a new member of Amazon’s AWS Academy, a virtual education-and-training
do math.
So I was beyond surprised when I entered Lakeside in 6th grade and realized that there was a math club at the Middle School! Quite honestly, I thought this was yet another excuse for students to get free pizza every Wednesday afternoon, but, alas, the first meeting offered no such scrumptious snack.
Instead, one of the 8th graders walked us through an “interesting” problem from the previous year’s AMC 8, the annual American Mathematics Competition for middle schoolers. Even though it nominally required knowledge of some advanced vocabulary, she decided to stray away from complicated language and instead tried to make her explanation as accessible as possible.
For the next six years, I integrated myself into the math community at Lakeside. I found within it something quite different from the popular perception of mathematics being “hostile to outsiders.” Every math club member was truly excited about math, and everyone tried to get as many other students excited about it as possible. I remember a friend of mine even managed to persuade a senior to host a speed-integration competition during assembly that successfully hyped everyone up — truly a Lakeside-specific story if I’ve ever heard one.
And so the way I presented at the PRIMES conference was an extension of the way I — and many others — have always tried to get people interested in math at Lakeside. Our greatest tools were not axioms and definitions, but rather illustrative analogies and hilariously formulated problems. On paper, Lakeside’s math curriculum is among the strongest in the nation — but it is the culture surrounding mathematics that truly elevates this school to a plane of its own (see what I did there). Lakesiders have found so much success in (inter) national math competitions (USAMO and IMO) and programs (AMC, PRIMES, and Mathcamp) precisely because they believe in a simple formula: the more the merrier.
— Rohan D. ’25
program designed by Amazon Web Services, the subsidiary of Amazon that provides on-demand cloud computing platforms for individuals, businesses, and governments. The school is piloting semester-long courses that teach the specialized skills needed to build and host large platforms for computer programmers. The course sequence explores topics such as cloud computing foundations, cybersecurity issues, machine learning, and the scale of infrastructure optimized for, say, running a million operations per second.
In a bridge between academia and the real world, membership comes with $4,000 of AWS cloud space to play with, along with $100 worth of professionaldevelopment tools for each individual student. The academy’s certificate-granting curriculum is actually designed to equip college students for internships and entry-level industry opportunities. “To my knowledge,” says Hudson Harper, mathematics teacher, director of technology, and assistant head of school at The Downtown School, “we’re one of the few independent 9-12 schools in the program.”
In addition to competitions, senior shows, and the school’s annual ArtsFest celebration, Lakeside’s visual artists have two on-campus publications that serve as public showcases for their art: the student newspaper, “Tatler,” and the literary journal, “Imago.” In recent years, both publications have been published in both printed and digital versions. Shown here are standout pieces that reflect the range (and the talent) of the student art being regularly published on campus throughout the year.
Learning in the Real World
THIS PAST SUMMER, students at Lakeside used AI-enhanced computer vision to improve road safety by detecting distracted drivers; worked with a Fred Hutch scientist to confirm the role of a gene in a viral infection; and published profiles of residents at a low-income retirement community. The research, reporting, and presentation skills students honed in these courses gave the students valuable practice communicating information to a wider audience — and a chance to connect with or give back to the wider Seattle community.
A longstanding part of our Summer School programming, these experiential, internship-style classes originated with former physics teacher Mike Town, whose summer students focused their research on avalanche science and climate studies, ultimately presenting their findings to the Northwest Avalanche Center and the University of Washington Glaciology Group.
This year’s expanded Lakeside Summer Institute (LSI) offerings included
artificial intelligence, in which stu dents worked with experts in AI and machine learning on topics rang ing from pneumonia detection to identifying undervalued Major League Baseball players. In the LSI: Journalism course, student reporters published life stories for the Northaven Senior Living community and worked with a staff editor on articles for the digital community newspaper, South Seattle Emerald. In the LSI: Molecular Biology course, students were mentored by Dr. Laura Belmont, a graduate student working at Fred Hutch Cancer Care Center in the field of virology.
LSI offerings align closely with Lakeside’s mission and values. They also allow us to open our campus to the broader community — the courses are available to any high school student, and financial aid is available to anyone who qualifies. Indeed, approximately one-third of the students enrolled in LSI this past summer attend schools other than Lakeside.
One of the initiatives in Lakeside’s new strategic plan is to “create innovative, experiential, and immersive educational experiences that center students’ agency and creativity” (see page 15). Our LSI courses do precisely that, while also connecting students with mentors and experts in particular fields of study, giving them a taste of what it might be like to work in one of these professions.
— Kat Yorks, Director of Summer at Lakeside If you have ideas for future LSI courses, please reach out to Kat.Yorks@lakesideschool.org.
COMFORT AND JOY
Students returning to campus this fall discovered a new soft space on the lower level of Bliss Hall: the office of Lakeside’s grade 5 to 12 nurse Joy Irvin. Irvin , in her second year at the school, previously worked in the neonatal ICU and the Pediatric Clinical Research Center at Seattle Children’s Hospital. “I first crossed paths with Lakeside through my involvement with COVID swabbing,” she says. “My brief encounters with students and staff were kind and welcoming, and though I never imagined myself working at a school, Lakeside’s warmhearted community drew me in.” She’s tried to create a similarly warm and inviting environment in her Upper School office, including low lighting, lots of pillows — and a cozy seat from the set of “Mean Girls,” last year’s Upper School musical.
Fall Season Snapshots
IN WHAT HAS BECOME A RITUAL OF AUTUMN, I the girls swim & dive team won its 13th consecutive Metro League title, Lakeside swimmers this year taking eight first-place finishes out of 12 events in the championship meet. On the NCAA’s national signing day for Division 1 athletes in October, Ella J. ’25 — who took two of those firsts — made it official that she’ll be swimming for Stanford next year.
In other fall highlights: The girls varsity 4+ cox finished 3rd at the Tail of the Lake regatta, the crew’s best finish in the event since 2012. Our boys and girls cross-country runners finished 5th and 10th, respectively, in the Metro League championships. Amy C. ’26, the girls’ top runner, finished 24th at the state meet in Pasco. The football team was named state academic champions (another ritual).
Volleyball player Rahamatou M-D ’25 gets pumped during a match vs. Holy Names. Teammate Lauryn C. ’26 was named Metro League defensive player of the year.
Irene D. ’27 tees off during a September match, helping drive a 9-1 regular-season record. Lakeside’s Cailyn C. ’26 was the #1 ranked golfer in the Metro League. She was medalist or co-medalist (best score from either team in the match) in 9 out of 10 matches.
Lucy C. ’25 advances the ball against Garfield. Close losses were the theme of the (4-11) soccer season. In the opening round of the Metro League tournament, Lakeside lost to Ballard, 1-0.
Daniel W. ’25 makes a pass downfield during an October night game against Ballard. After six consecutive Puget Sound Conference championships, Lakeside’s Bx Ultimate was finally dethroned, this year finishing runner-up. The team qualified for the state tournament, where it lost 13-8 to Roosevelt in a rainy quarterfinal at the Starfire Athletic Complex in Tukwila.
FACULTY & STAFF NOTES
News and sightings from outside the classroom
Last June, Middle School science teacher Patricia Kennedy traveled to North Sumatra to do volunteer conservation work with an orangutan conservancy. She helped create a wildlife corridor for threatened orangutans to move into the Gunung Leuser National Park; built a nursery for strong trees like petai and durian and planted mature trees in strategic locations along the corridor route; and cleaned up plastic from the Landak River.
• Middle School languages teacher Omar Rachid had two significant publications last spring. His chapter titled, “Black Skin, White Language: Can We Develop Intercultural Competence in the French Language Classroom?,” was published in The International Handbook of French Education. Additionally, his two years of work as part of a 20-person team of educators from around the U.S. culminated in updated national standards for language learning for the American Council on the Teaching of Foreign Languages, the first major revision since 2012. • In August, Middle School English teacher Adam Graham-Silverman had an op-ed piece published in his hometown newspaper, the Minneapolis Star Tribune. He plans to turn the essay — about his great-grandfather, a Minneapolis public relations man named Walter Quigley who was a pioneer of political attack advertising — into a book. • Middle School Latin teacher Scott Riley has a book in production with Boydell & Brewer Press. “New World Medievalisms,” due out in 2025, is an expansion of Riley’s doctoral dissertation in the field of American Studies. • Last July, Ying Purcell, office manager and assistant to the
chief financial officer/associate head of school, continued her string of outdoor accomplishments by summiting Mount Rainier. • Speaking of outdoor accomplishments, Middle School physical education teacher Adrienne Knudson crossed off a big item on her bucket list: completing the two-day, 200-mile Seattle-to-Portland bicycle ride. (“I started learning rules of the road and etiquette/safety associated with group-riding only last winter,” she says. “I was given a DKS grant to support a portion of the learning, and Professional Development/ Outdoor Programs also offered financial support for some courses as support for my co-leading the 7th grade bicycle outdoor trip to Lopez Island last spring.”) • Payroll manager Derrick Godornes completed the same ride — for the 14th time. • Meanwhile, two other serious cyclists, Upper School math teacher Zach Shiner and Upper School English teacher/department head/summer school director Kat Yorks, survived the Tahoe Death Ride: 103 miles and 14,000 vertical feet of cycling in the eastern Sierra. “It was fun,” says Yorks, “but I don’t think I ever need to do anything that physically challenging ever again!” • Last July, English department colleague Kevin Kimura ’04 attended the Teaching African American Studies Institute at the National Humanities Center in North Carolina.
• In September, Upper School visual arts teacher Damian Grava was one of 50 West Seattle artists showing their work in the annual West Seattle Art Tour. His Westwood Art Studio was one of 14 stops on the tour.
• Middle School counselors
Damon Buren and Tori Force presented at the Northwest Association of Independent Schools (NWAIS) 2024 Fall Educators Conference in Tacoma on how they have “broken counseling out of the counseling center and normalized mental wellness throughout the whole school.”
• In other NWAIS news, school counselors
Julie Keller ’03 Lutton and Meredith Sjoberg were selected to be a part of the 2024-25 cohort in the Emerging Leaders Institute. Separately, Sjoberg expanded her private counseling practice to include consulting, coaching, and speaking, with special expertise in helping parents navigate their teen or young adult’s eating disorder or disordered eating diagnosis. Her website is www.meredithsjoberg.com
The Value of Oral History
THE FIRST TIME I interviewed someone about their past was when I sat down with my Scandinavian grandma to ask about her childhood. I was 19, studying history in college, and had always been fascinated by her photo albums. In fact, I had looked through them a million times by then, but I realized that once she was gone, her story (and all the “uff das” in it) would go with her. This was before the ubiquitous smartphone, so my tools back then were a pencil and paper. Oh, how I wish I had taken the extra step of tape recording that interview!
The things we keep document our past. Take, for example, the history of Lakeside’s experiential education programs: Film footage from an April 1968 beach hike. A senior project scrapbook of memories from a 1979 trip to Canyonlands, Utah. Letters of deep gratitude for the community service work done by Lakeside students. Even a bighorn sheep skull found on an outdoor trip. We preserve these materials in our archives because they tell us about experiential education here.
But not everything. There’s so much more to the story than what happens to get documented or saved, and one of my jobs is to collect — and in some cases create — records (and recordings) that provide multiple and varied insights into our past. That’s right, I said it! Sometimes I create records instead of just collecting them. What I’m referring to are the oral history interviews with Lakesiders that are a growing part of our archives.
Lakeside’s oral history program is as old as the archives itself (22 this spring!) and includes recorded interviews to date with 37 former faculty and staff, some of whom
are also alums. The recordings (the earliest of which are on cassette tapes) vary in length from a halfhour to almost four, but all of them provide perspectives on Lakeside’s history that are often far more personal than other kinds of records in our collection.
Interviews help fill in some gaps left by printed and institutional documents — either because interviewees are members of underrepresented groups or because more traditional records don’t capture the why and how of institutional growth and change.
To get a sense of how these interviews add understanding to the school’s history of experiential education, use the QR codes at right to listen to clips from two oralhistory recordings. One is with longtime Outdoor Program manager Chip Mehring, and the other is with Vicki Weeks ’73, one of the visionary founders of the school’s Global Service Learning Program.
My grandma died in 2009, when she was 98. Because I’m the archivist of the family, she left the albums to me. I don’t get to them as often as I’d like, but I think about her stories a lot.
Hearing (and, in the case of videos, seeing) these recordings connects us, in a very personal way, to the people whose lives, like ours, intertwine with the history of Lakeside. Archival materials — photos, documents, and objects — form a visual and intellectual body of evidence about our past. Hearing the voices of the people who were there, experiencing it, gives it its soul.
Leslie Schuyler, archivist of the Jane Carlson Williams ’60 Archives. For a complete list of Lakeside’s collection of oral history interviews, or to access complete recordings, contact the archivist, Leslie Schuyler at archives@lakesideschool.org.
Chip Mehring synthesizes a decade of Outdoor Program history in four minutes. Link to excerpt here: vimeo.com/313845413/ef103392f4
Vicki Weeks ’73 explains what the founders of Global Service Learning wanted students to get out of the GSL experience. Link to excerpt here: vimeo.com/920240725/e77937ccc0
IN ITS SIMPLEST
FORM, a strategic plan prepares an organization for its future.
My godfather always told me, “Preparation is hope in action.” Without preparation, hope is empty. But with thoughtful groundwork, planning, and practice, hope becomes deeply rooted and powerfully felt. This strategic plan, launched in December 2024 and presented on the following pages, is our preparation. It lays out our ideas for the future and empowers us to take the steps to realize them. It is truly our hope in action.
One of the first things that attracted me to Lakeside was its strong mission and seeing how that mission comes to life in the kids and educators on campus. Early in the strategic planning process, the leadership team and the board were tasked with affirming Lakeside’s mission statement. This led us to have meaningful conversations with students, faculty, staff, parents and guardians, and friends of the school about their experiences at Lakeside, helping us understand how we could augment our mission and further enhance the life of the school.
The vision statement presented in this plan is intended to complement our mission. As we work to realize that mission, the vision informs what steps we will take. The pairing of these two reflects how we are rooted in Lakeside’s long-held values, while broadening our efforts and our reach in order to best serve our current and future students and families.
In today’s rapidly changing world, the role of education extends far beyond academic instruction. We must cultivate an environment where both students and educators feel inspired, empowered, and motivated to make the world a better place.
The vision statement at the heart of our strategic plan encapsulates this aspiration: “To cultivate a school community that inspires and empowers all our students and educators with the will to seek joy, to be hopeful, and to transform the world with care.” This principle guides us as we collectively work to create a vibrant community that nurtures growth, resilience, and compassion.
Joy is a powerful motivator in the educational experience. When students and educators approach learning with curiosity and playfulness, they are often more engaged, creative, and open to exploration. By being present in the moment, immersed in one’s learning, one may discover a passion that could evolve into a deeper sense of purpose.
Hope is the cornerstone of resilience and perseverance. In a world filled with challenges and uncertainties, it’s crucial that we instill in students a sense that their actions matter. Hope can be hard. As educators, we can create structures that help students learn how to respond to adversity, embrace failure as both an occasional inevitability and a learning opportunity, and experience the grounded optimism that comes from seeing the results
of hard work over time. Hope leans on the power of one’s courage and confidence, and we want to foster a community that believes in this power.
If we can provide a joyful learning environment in which students are imbued with hope, they will emerge resilient, confident, capable, and ready to put their powers of care to work in their larger communities. Our vision emphasizes the importance of care — both for oneself and for others. We prioritize socialemotional wellness and community engagement to cultivate empathy and compassion among students. Furthermore, we intend to create structures that enable us to promise families that every student at Lakeside will be seen, known, and valued for the individual they are. Our goal is to provide our students and adults with a level of care that equips and inspires them to transform their worlds with care.
As you’ll see, the strategic plan aims to cultivate joy, hope, and care within our school community. We will focus our work in the areas of educational excellence; community experience, impact, and engagement; and infrastructure, operations, and capacity. As we move
forward, this plan will be a living, dynamic tool that guides our work, the choices we make, and the ways we interact with each other. It connects us to our deeply rooted values and inspires us to imagine how we can broaden our reach to make the most of the amazing community we’re building.
I’d like to thank the faculty, staff, and trustees for making this strategic plan happen. Their enormous dedication to this school inspires me every day. Lastly, I thank all of you for being members of the Lakeside family. Together, let’s approach Lakeside School’s future with hope: knowing that the actions we take today will enable our students, and all members of our community, to contribute wisdom, compassion, and leadership to the world.
WITH GRATITUDE,
DR. KAI BYNUM HEAD OF SCHOOL
The vision statement at the heart of our strategic plan encapsulates this aspiration: “To cultivate a school community that inspires and empowers all our students and educators with the will to seek joy, to be hopeful, and to transform the world with care.”
Chloe Collyer
ROOTED IN OUR VALUES
OUR MISSION outlines our purpose — why we exist.
THE MISSION OF LAKESIDE SCHOOL is to develop in intellectually capable young people the creative minds, healthy bodies, and ethical spirits needed to contribute wisdom, compassion, and leadership to a global society. We provide a rigorous and dynamic academic program through which effective educators lead students to take responsibility for learning. We are committed to sustaining a school in which individuals representing diverse cultures and experiences instruct one another in the meaning and value of community and in the joy and importance of lifelong learning.
Our work together to implement the goals of Lakeside’s mission will set the foundation for Lakeside’s next century.”
— Tim Panos ’85 P’22 ‘24 ‘24, Board of Trustees, immediate past chair
As I look at our strategic plan and all of the exciting and necessary changes on the horizon, I take great pride and comfort in the steadiness of the mission. Even as Lakeside continues to evolve to ensure we are our best collective self for our students, families, employees, and graduates, we know we will still be recognizable to the community that has taken great care of Lakeside.”
— Wellesley L. Wilson, director of admissions and financial aid
OUR VALUES are how we behave and treat each other.
TRUST
“
One of the most important things about being in a school are the relationships that are formed. Having shared values makes it much easier for these relationships to be productive and flourish. If we have an understanding about how we will treat each other in celebration, during conflict, or while doing a simple project, the outcomes will be so much better.”
— Jamie Asaka ’96, director of student and family support
“
Kindness has always been a part of who we are as a school, but I think that, particularly in today’s very individualistic society, kindness gets put by the wayside. I think it’s time for us to really double down on what it means to be kind, what it means to be empathetic, to have compassion, and what it means to practice that. I see that kindness in our students. When they’re faced with challenges, they want their colleagues and their classmates to succeed. To me, that is kindness.”
—Bryan
Smith, director of experiential education
OUR VISION responds to what our community needs now in order to realize our mission.
TO CULTIVATE A SCHOOL COMMUNITY that inspires and empowers all our students andeducators with the will to seek joy, to be hopeful, and to transform the world with care.
“ BROADENING OUR REACH
“
We must cultivate an environment where both students and educators feel inspired, empowered, and motivated to make the world a better place. The vision statement at the heart of our strategic plan encapsulates this aspiration.”
— Kai Bynum, head of school
“
I like to think about the vision as our north star — a wayfinding tool, guiding us to where we want to go.”
— Amanda Darling, director of communications, strategic plan steering committee co-chair
This vision sets us up to directly address the challenges students, parents and guardians, and educators face today, and it allows us to visualize how Lakeside’s longstanding mission can be taken forward and kept relevant. It calls us to walk the talk of our values.”
— Charlotte Guyman P’07 ’09 ’15, Board of Trustees, secretary; steering committee co-chair
OUR COMMITMENT TO DIVERSITY, EQUITY, INCLUSION, AND BELONGING makes visible the deliberate nature of our work in this area andexpressesthenecessityofeverymember ofourcommunitysharingthiscommitment.
AT LAKESIDE, WE BUILD belonging and community by striving to ensure that every person is seen, heard, and valued. Our practices, structures, and approaches are designed to model equity, inclusion, and belonging in our classrooms, on our fields, and in our community engagement with all our students, families, faculty, staff, and alums. Our collective shared embrace of an equity and inclusion mindset is critical to fostering a transformative educational environment that prepares students for the future.
“ “
Equity and inclusion don’t happen in cases of ‘mostly’ or ‘almost.’ If your boat is sinking and you plug up all of the holes except for one, it’s still going to sink. Lakeside isn’t inclusive if most people make inclusion a priority, but a few others don’t. It’s about making space for all of our students to be able to bring their full selves to campus and do their best work academically.”
— Hans de Grys, academic dean
Diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging are core to Lakeside’s mission and vision but must be woven into all that we do. We want to ensure that they are communicated to the entire community in order to make certain that we can deliver on these promises.”
— Charlotte Guyman P’07 ’09 ’15, Board of Trustees, secretary; steering committee co-chair
THE PRIORITY
AREAS we will focus on in the coming years
EDUCATIONAL EXCELLENCE
A Lakeside education encompasses every aspect of a student’s experience, both within and beyond the walls of the classroom. Our educators design innovative, experiential, and immersive educational experiences that center students’ agency and creativity. These experiences nurture students’ desire and will to explore and discover their passions and purpose, whether those are discipline specific or broadly interdisciplinary.
How we will do this (and what it will look like):
Deepen student voice, creativity, and agency.
• Immersive and experiential learning.
• Cultivate learning environments that deepen possibilities for student innovation, flexibility, and choice.
Cultivate institutional innovation, creativity, and exploration.
• Teaching, learning, and working with generative artificial intelligence.
• Resources for educators to create and collaborate.
Optimize educational systems, structure, and time.
• Daily schedule and school calendar.
• Assessment and feedback.
COMMUNITY EXPERIENCE, ENGAGEMENT, AND IMPACT
When we focus on the health and well-being of students, educators, and families and recognize the value of each person’s life experiences, we lay the foundation for transformative lifelong learning and relationships. Guided by Lakeside’s values, we establish and enhance meaningful relationships with alums, local and global partners, and other mission-aligned organizations. In doing so, we expand the meaning of the Lakeside community and powerfully impact ourselves and others.
How we will do this (and what it will look like):
Promote personal and community health and well-being.
• Build belonging through class deans, advisory, and grade-level continuity.
• Cultivate a community-focused culture around dining and food.
• Faculty and staff support and development.
• Human development and health curriculum.
Emphasize Lakeside’s community values to foster belonging and model meaningful relationships.
• Build community members’ skills in intergroup dialogue in order to navigate complexity.
• Programming for students, employees, and parents and guardians that cultivates belonging and community through an exploration of our shared values.
Represent, foster, and strengthen the engagement between Lakeside alums, current students, and faculty and staff, as well as between Lakeside and our partners around the region.
• Service learning.
• Our partnership with The Downtown School.
• Alum engagement.
• Expansion of Lakeside Educational Enrichment Program (LEEP).
INFRASTRUCTURE, OPERATIONS, AND CAPACITY
With resources and efforts that are consistently mission-aligned, the school sustains its excellence and has an enduring platform within which to make meaningful change. Lakeside’s values are embedded in every area of our policies, practices, and operations so that all aspects of the school’s operations fulfill their stated priorities.
How we will do this (and what it will look like):
Realize inspiring and secure campuses that support dynamic learning and community engagement.
• Campus master plan.
• Upper School academic building.
• Campus and community safety.
• Create a space on each campus to be the center of student experience and student/family support programs.
• Arts and athletics facilities updates.
Enable the sustained excellence and success of our systems and operations.
• Institutional research.
• A culture of giving.
• Technology infrastructure.
Advance equitable access to a Lakeside education.
• Transportation and parking.
• Optimal school size and enrollment.
• Maintain the ability to make admissions decisions without regard for a family’s ability to pay.
WHAT WE HEARD FROM OUR COMMUNITY
Lakeside’s strategic planning process was designed to align Lakeside’s vision, purpose, and efforts as a school. To build understanding and alignment, the steering committee began with an extended process of listening and learning about the needs of Lakeside students in a post-pandemic world. Throughout 2023 — through surveys, conversations, focus groups, and interviews — people from across the community shared what they hoped would stay the same about Lakeside, what they hoped could change for the better, and where they believed the school should focus its energies. Feedback from alums was critical: more than 1,000 respondents, representing a rich, statistically significant cross-section of the alums, completed a wide-ranging survey. That work led to the plan’s foundational pieces, as well as three priority areas. Within each priority area, projects and initiatives suggested by community members were researched and vigorously discussed. Among the community-sourced ideas included in the plan are the expansion of Lakeside Educational Enrichment Program (LEEP); consolidating programs focused on student experience, an expansion of the human development and health curriculum; developing new responses to transportation and parking; and faculty and staff support and development.
WHAT YOU CAN EXPECT TO SEE
Hope in Action will guide Lakeside’s efforts in the coming years.
Several pieces of the plan are noticeably underway, including a new academic building; deepening institutional and student commitment to service learning; and the school’s measured integration of generative AI into the curriculum and school operations. “We didn’t want to wait until the launch of the plan to work on necessary projects,” says Amanda Darling, co-chair of the strategic plan steering committee.
Some projects, like those involving community safety, are behind the scenes. Some, in the case of technology infrastructure, are literally underground. Others give the Lakeside community a chance to continue dreaming. “Hope in Action not only lays out what we plan to do, it also creates space and opportunity to imagine, to ask ourselves ‘What if?’” says Bynum. “What if the entire 10th grade had a monthlong off-campus learning experience? What if we could grow the size of our school to positively impact even more students in the region? We want to capture the energy and fun in exploring and incubating some of these ideas.”
[Every person in our community can play a role in the work ahead. To turn our hopes into action, we need your collaboration, participation, and ideas. Connect with Head of School Kai Bynum at an alum event this winter and spring (see Page 60) and visit the Hope in Action website: lakesideschool.org/strategic-plan
STRATEGIC PLAN STEERING COMMITTEE
A group of Lakeside administrators and trustees, which included alums and current and former parents and guardians, led the process of putting together the strategic plan and will continue to be involved in tracking its progress.
• Reem Abu Rahmeh, assistant head of school; Middle School director
• Jamie Asaka ’96, director of student and family support
• Kai Bynum, head of school
• Carey Crutcher ‘77 Smith P’11 ’14, former trustee
• Amanda Darling, director of communications; steering committee co-chair
• Lloyd Frink ’83 P’19 ’21 ’25 ’25, trustee
• Charlotte Guyman P’07 ’09 ’13, Board of Trustees, secretary; steering committee co-chair
• Sean O’Donnell ’90 P’25 ’27, Board of Trustees, chair
• Tim Panos ’85 P’22 ’24 ’24, Board of Trustees, immediate past chair
• Bridgette Taylor P’21 ’24, trustee
• Merrie Williamson P’27, trustee
• Wellesley L. Wilson, director of admissions and financial aid
YEARS
OF IMMERSIVE HANDS-ON LEARNING 50
Ahalf-century is a long time for any particular approach to secondary education to remain relevant — let alone to thrive. That’s how long Lakeside has — through pedagogy, commitment of resources, and graduation requirement — believed that through outdoor education, students learn new skills, gain self-confidence, and reflect on their responsibility to the natural world in ways rarely possible in a traditional classroom setting. Fifty years also happens to be a long enough time to judge the impact on graduates’ lives. In the alumni survey that helped inform the school’s new strategic plan, alums from across the past five decades shared a remarkable response: the most powerful and memorable aspect of their Lakeside education had been their outdoor program experience.
For alums from the past 20 years, add one other: their Global Service Learning experience. One response after another called out the extraordinary combination of service learning, cultural immersion, and reflection — how eye-opening it was to live with a family in Thailand, how inspiring to work alongside members of a village in Fiji, how empowering to convert that awareness to just and compassionate service back at home.
A third aspect of Lakeside’s experiential learning — the school’s Service Learning Program — has been evolving for nearly as long as the global program. Time measured in decades also means time to pilot, to iterate, to refine — and time to build relationships. There is not only a virtuous circle informing our service work here, but positive ripples across time and space.
There is a groundswell of new research backing up the effectiveness of Lakeside’s longstanding commitment to immersive, hands-on education. Not that we need research to know we’ve been on to something special.
In the annals of Lakeside’s long-bending arc of experiential learning, “Quest” was distinctive. It was the only class that combined nature writing, philosophy, expedition planning, personal reflection — and the space to discover one’s place in the cosmos.
UNCHARTED TERRITORY
BY EVELYN SPENCE ’94
At the summit of the Angel Trail — after a climb away from the calm and milky brown of Utah’s Green River, through the reeds and reddish sand of Barrier Creek, past where Mars-like sandstone rolls over into an endless table of pastureland — there’s a marker called “Doelger’s Stick.” Perhaps marker may be too aspirational a designation. It’s just a stick, really, pounded into the ground, with an overturned tin can on top. Carved into the stick are a collection of names: Lakeside seniors, all of whom ascended here in the past, sometime during the trajectory of a three-week
outdoor trip — and a semester-long class — called Quest.
The eponymous English teacher Tom Doelger doesn’t remember why he was honored with the stick, or when it was discovered, as yet unscratched. Neither does Chip Mehring, who taught for Lakeside’s outdoor program from 1984 to 2019 and who led Quest 30 times. Nor does English teacher Bob Lapsley, who first joined Mehring on the river in 1996. The stick wasn’t necessarily the point of the hike up Angel Trail. The point wasn’t really the view, either, though it was 360 degrees, uncivilized, and vast. Often, the dozen members of the expedition brought up enough gear to spend the night on the plateau: Likely, the point was to fall asleep under an
infinitely starlit cosmos and contemplate one’s place in it.
One year, as the group packed minimal supplies for a foray up the Angel Trail, leaving everything else by the river, the question arose: “So, Chip, should we bring our tarps?”
“Well, I see Mr. Lapsley is packing his tarp.” A classic Mehring response. The students debated. Keep the tarp? Leave the tarp? One said, “Well, the sky looks clear.” “Remember yesterday,” said Mehring, “when the sky was really blue, and then it poured all night?”
More discussion, until the conclusion was made: Screw it. It’s beautiful out. We don’t want to carry this stuff. The students all scaled the trail, and by the time they scratched their names into the tin can and found a
campsite, the weather was ominous, crackling with electricity. For safety, everyone retreated below the rim, where each student found a small rock ledge — a private terrace — on which to sleep. Soon the rain began. Then, a deluge. The water poured over every outcropping, sluicing over every unprotected sleeping bag, as the adult trip leaders cozied up together under the cover they had brought. As Lapsley recalls, “Chipper and I were snug. The suffering, for them, was immense.” By morning, the students had piled together into a pupae-like pile of colorful, soaking-wet ripstop.
As they stirred, one pupa started to gripe at Lapsley and Mehring for allowing the whole farce to happen, but another broke in. “Hold on a minute,”
she said. “We decided to do this. It’s on us.” It was the shortest statement of personal responsibility — and sign of growth — either adult could ever contrive. Nothing else needed to be said.
And this, explains Lapsley now — this teaching moment that couldn’t be taught — was exactly the point. Of the hike, and of Quest, which was an audacious take on education and the gleaning, and meaning, of knowledge. “Quest was a contradiction in terms; it was a nonclass class,” says Arryn Owens ’19. “It was a place for rebels, wanderers, keen creatives, and the hardy. It represented the choice to do something unusual and difficult — for no gain other than whatever value the experience in itself held.”
IN THE ANNALS of Lakeside’s long-bending arc of experiential learning, there have been other multiweek trips, through the Outdoor Program or through the school’s Global Service Learning Program. There have been other trips to southern Utah. In Spring 2022, the school began to offer the cross-disciplinary elective H478: Leadership in the Modern Era, in which a class of seniors explores leadership styles in the context of the outdoors (see sidebar). But Quest was distinctive among them. It’s the only class that combined nature writing, philosophy, expedition planning, and extensive personal reflection — slowing down, searching — and was available at a pivotal time: spring of senior year, in
the thick of a transition from one stage of life to another. “Most classes direct learning toward a skill that you want to apply,” says Blair Schoene ’96, “whereas Quest was more of an exploration of who you are.”
The first iteration, called Journeys and Quests, took place in May 1979, when Lakeside’s first Outdoor Program head, Bill Vanderbilt, and his wife, Annie, led a group of seniors on a three-week trip to Utah, retracing a portion of John Wesley Powell’s famous 1896 expedition down the Green River and hiking and studying in Canyonlands National Park. Credit for the idea historically goes to longtime English teacher Judy Lightfoot, who selected texts about spiritual, mental, and physical journeys for the classroom portion — and who required students to keep detailed journals throughout the semester. Once the group left Seattle, she stayed back on campus as the Vanderbilts took over.
According to Peter Hayes, who became the head of the Outdoor Program in 1982, Journeys and Quests was, in part, a practical solution to the so-called senior slump: how to engage students at the conclusion of high school, when grades and college applications were no longer factors. “Once you took away the external motivation, often they wouldn’t work,” he
On some of the earliest Quest trips, students contended with a failed water pump (on the I-70 on-ramp near Crescent Junction, below) and with rain squalls while backpacking (bottom).
REQUIRED READING
• Desert Solitaire, Edward Abbey
• The Secret Knowledge of Water, Craig Childs
• Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard
• The Last American Man, Elizabeth Gilbert
• The Wild Places, Robert Macfarlane
says. “We hoped that they were working simply for the sake of learning.”
As the curriculum guide from 1983 to 1984 stated, the course was an effort to fully occupy and excite seniors at the end of their Lakeside careers.
Early on, the Quest trip took place during the final three weeks of the school year, when Questers took took finals ahead of time and were done with classes. Along with a syllabus of environmental writing and books like “The Odyssey,” students learned the basic principles of geology, sedimentation, and soil analysis. In April 1984, Chip Mehring joined the Outdoor Program and led his first Quest trip almost immediately. A year or two later, the course mutated to focus on the Northwest, with a series of shorter trips to study logging, Native tribes, fisheries, and the like. Then Mehring switched to backpacking — but the need to resupply several times seemed to break the magical isolation that only a river trip could engender. Only once did he guide a group down the San Juan River, but it was too difficult — and cold — for novice canoeists. From then on, the expedition returned to the desert Southwest and the more placid waters of the Green.
But Quest truly hit its stride after two changes: First, around 1995, the trip dates were moved from the end of the semester to a window around spring break. The result, says Mehring, was that it attracted truly committed students. “That time frame meant kids had to give up so much to be there, from spring sports to drama productions to AP exams to social lives,” says
Mehring. “It was more than an English credit or an outdoor credit or an afterthought.” Second, when Lapsley — newly hired in the English department — stepped in for an injured co-leader, the formula was finally in place. The Quest English teacher would always come along with Mehring and 10 students, which created a profound connection between campus and canyon. From then on, Lapsley and Doelger took turns helming the class — and no one else ever did. “There was a corresponding commitment from the adults,” says Mehring. “Like, ‘I’m not doing this because it’s my job as a teacher. I’m doing this because the nature of the relationships with students is vastly different from what is possible in a classroom.’ ”
Spending several months in Moore Hall ahead of departure served a purpose beyond just intellectual preparation: It provided a continuity, a mindset, that no other outdoor or GSL trip could replicate, a place for the groundwork beforehand and reverberations after. “My objectives as an English teacher were, of course, to make students better readers and writers,” says Doelger. “But my more important agenda was to somehow make them more attentive, thoughtful, and righteous human beings. Usually, this might come across as a sermon. But on Quest, we became a minisociety, all learning how to deal with one another’s eccentricities.” On the river, outward creativity and literacy were less important than cooperation, accountability, and a turning inward.
A major draw of the course, says
• Ishmael, Daniel Quinn
• In Search of the Old Ones, David Roberts
• A Darker Wilderness: Black Nature Writing from Soil to Stars, Erin Sharkey, ed.
• Walden, Henry David Thoreau
• An Unspoken Hunger, Terry Tempest Williams
• Run, River, Run, Anne Zwinger
Mehring, was escape. Escape from deadlines, escape from technology, even escape from families and parents. Another pull, simply, was the lore. Leah Aegerter ’13 followed in the footsteps of her older brother. “I suspected it would be a life-altering experience,” she says, “and I was right.” Owens, from an outdoorsy family, already knew she wanted to sign up when she was a freshman. “The class was magnetic to me,” she says. “It seemed that Quest was one of those rare, irreplaceable, inexplicable classes that only a few Lakesiders would have the interest and opportunity to experience.” Others, like Jay Bensal ’12, primarily wanted to take one more class with a beloved teacher, Tom Doelger, but soon found Quest to be the perfect antidote for the stresses of Lakeside — an extended period with a small group, all of whom were finished with college applications and released from the onus of a grade point average. “Being in the outdoors for that
from your life for three weeks, was like, who has time to do that?”
Of course, doing nothing was relative. A legacy of the one-off Northwest trip remained: Each student became an expert on a component of the Utah desert, whether it was geology, hydrology, or flora. Over the course of the expedition, they presented their research. Some brought laminated handouts. Others lugged along piles of geology textbooks. The format was flexible; the ultimate goal was a sense of ownership over a topic, with no expectations or rubric attached. But built into the trip was a true opportunity for simplicity and solitude: a three-day solo, with students placed throughout the section along the Green River known as Anderson Bottom, each allowed not much more than a sleeping bag, a journal, an emergency whistle, and maybe a musical instrument. Fasting was encouraged. Boredom was common.
Most students heard the rumors — legends — about Quest, but those never captured its true character. During an initial meeting, usually in November, Doelger always opened by asking: Do you know what you’re really getting into here? Every time, he described how they would all unload the gear at Ruby Ranch — a desolate, unattractive spot on Bureau of Land Management land. How the van and trailer would leave them in this horrible place. How Mehring would talk at them for 2½ hours about how to use the stove, how to pack the boats, how to paddle, all too much information to take in. How they wouldn’t get it.
And every time, for the first few days, no one could actually figure out how to steer a canoe or set up camp or cook a decent meal.
But Doelger never included a crucial detail: On the morning of Day 5, the adults would pack up quietly, then tell the students: We’re leaving. You’re on your own and you’re going to catch
how we thought of it. If you want to eat s— for dinner, you can eat s—for dinner. If you want to sleep in the rain, you can sleep in the rain.” The leaders stepped back in a way that’s become increasingly rare in parenting and teaching alike, exposing the kids to mistakes, risk, and even danger. From then on, says Doelger, the trip became extraordinary and — by circumstances and by design — timeless. (One watch was brought along, and it was set so that sunrise was at 0:00, and sunset was about 13:30 or 14:00.) “It was a kind of enchantment where it felt as if, each day, there’s only one place we’ve ever been and it’s on the river. And there’s only one group of people that we’ve ever known, and it’s this group of 11 others.”
On standard weeklong outdoor trips, the enchantment only just begins — and then it’s all over. Mehring has seen the same rhythm play out on every excursion he has led. “Most people, teenagers and adults alike, put quite a bit of energy into maintaining a facade, and they can maintain it for a school day or a practice,” he says. “After four or five days, you realize, this group of people knows who I am.”
Clothing was filthy. Privacy was close to nonexistent; teen self-con-
sciousness was impossible.
Every morning, Mehring sang “Don’t Fence Me In” as an alarm, recalls Aegerter. Every evening, he would run a meeting, reflecting on the day, prepping student leaders for the next; sometimes, a text was read and discussed; often, a tale was told. During the last few years of Quest, Mehring started doing what he calls “autobiographies”: Each night, one person would tell their life story, sometimes speaking for more than an hour. A credo of sorts. “We were so removed from everything in Seattle, deep in the canyons, it was like we were apart from the rest of the universe,” he says. “When students gave their autobiography, there was a sense of trust that you could explain to people the darkness as well as the light.”
For some, it was the stuff of epiphanies. Schoene chose his college, his major, and his career — he’s now a professor of geosciences at Princeton — in large part because of Quest. “I just fell in love with the desert landscape, how it could be so empty and yet so full at the same time,” he says. Aegerter, a sculptor in Carbondale, Colorado, not only uses geology as inspiration; she has also floated the Green River several times since Quest,
and last year guided Lakeside friends down Stillwater Canyon. “The trip propelled me into an obsession with the Southwest and helped me realize how capable I was of living a simple lifestyle that made me happy and fulfilled,” she says.
Most Quest alums, Bensal and Owens included, wouldn’t necessarily credit the course with explicitly changing their future choices — but, without a doubt, they know that it expanded their self-knowledge and inspired what Owens calls a “sincere deviation,” an internal shift and expansion rather than a literal one. After all, so-called life-changing moments are most often subtle, retrospective, slow-moving in their power. Devin Beecher ’04 was left with vivid memories: Chip’s coooo-eeeeehh! echoing through a canyon. Watching the Milky Way move across the sky. Listening to his friend play the fiddle as they floated toward the confluence with the Colorado River. But he can’t articulate just how much it affected him. “I’m not sure if I can describe how it changed me,” he says. “It’s hard to draw straight lines.”
WHEN STRAIGHT LINES
are the expectation, it’s more difficult to justify blurry ones. If one can’t quantify the impact of a class, how long can it continue? What if you can’t elucidate the point? Mehring thinks that Quest may have been “a victim of its own success”: It was too beguiling and slippery, perhaps, to translate into a course catalog, yet it possessed core elements that slowly leached into other departments, other trips, making itself unnecessary.
Perhaps Quest was simply of a time, and its time was bound to run out.
For much of its history, Quest had long waitlists; some hopefuls, like Owens, wrote personal letters to the faculty in charge of class scheduling, pleading to be chosen. But at some point in the early 2010s, interest started to wane — and, after 2019, Quest “died a quiet death,” says Lapsley. According to him, there are now just too many other obligations, options,
and pressures for students, making the commitment prohibitively steep. Spring break is now crowded with fascinating GSL offerings (French Polynesia, Costa Rica) and other, shorter outdoor trips. Mehring retired. When Lapsley stepped aside from Quest, and Doelger retired, no other English teacher would — or even could — take over. Not only that, to expend a full-time teacher for such a small class didn’t square in the department’s yearly enrollment puzzle, and it left other students without an English elective. Yet, if Quest expanded to an unwieldy 16 or more, it would change the power of the intimacy — and, anyway, wilderness permits are usually issued for groups of 12.
In 2019, incoming Outdoor Programs Coordinator Greta Block almost took over Quest from Mehring — but other trips, then COVID-19, made it impossible. “Quest was an amazing program, but it was really Chip’s passion, his baby,” she says. Owens agrees: Other classes may well be modeled after it, but Quest, above all, was a product of the specific humans who led it — Chip Mehring, Tom Doelger, and Bob Lapsley — and their unique relationship with each other.
Owens’ 2019 put-in at barren Ruby Ranch was the finale and, with it, there was a tangible sense that her cohort was concluding a deeply special era. The nostalgia and emotion, she says, were noticeable, as Mehring and Doelger seemed to bid farewell to the river. No one else may ever find meaning in — or even find — Doelger’s Stick, but its legacy remains outsized. “Sometimes I can hardly believe Quest was allowed to operate as it did,” Owens says. “It represented an authentic and unstandardized way of living and existing. It owed itself to the understanding that everyone lives in their own universe, and we all can and should traverse the far edges of ourselves in search of what’s there.”
Evelyn Spence is a professional writer and editor whose work has been honored by Best American Sports Writing and the American Society of Journalists and Authors. Her articles have appeared in Outside, Backpacker, Skiing, Men’s Journal, and Women’s Health, among other national publications.
QUEST 2.0?
“What I wanted was to basically recreate Quest, but using my own skill set,” says Outdoor Programs Coordinator Greta Block, who started co-teaching the seniors-only elective H478: Leadership in the Modern Era with Bryan Smith, head of experiential education, in spring 2022. “It seemed like the right time to take a break and reinvent it.”
Smith, a history teacher by training, had already taught an interdisciplinary class about leadership, and Block thought his framework would dovetail with a curriculum of concrete outdoor skills. The first part of H478 takes a close look at Endurance by Alfred Lansing and supplements with everything from Harvard Business Review case studies to “Deep Survival” to Arlene Bloom’s “Annapurna: A Woman’s Place.” Along the way, students listen to guest speakers representing various aspects of leadership and become certified in wilderness first- aid. During a two-week backpacking trip to Cedar Mesa, in Utah, they practice using stoves, putting up tents, and — most important — teaching others how to use stoves and put up tents.
The course culminates in late May with the seniors each helping to lead a 7th-grade backpacking trip, for four days, alongside a Middle School faculty member and an outdoor guide. “We always have ‘leaders of the day’ on outdoor trips, but it’s more challenging when you’re not leading your peers,” says Block. “Students really get to test out their skills.” The 7thgrade trip even becomes a part of the students’ final grade — along with a detailed analytical paper on “Endurance” and an extensive personal reflection essay. So far, the response to the class has been incredibly positive. Some of Block’s students have already guided other Lakesiders on backpacking trips, checking out gear from the Outdoor Program library. “A lot of them told me it was their favorite class at Lakeside,” she says. “They’re already applying their skills in the real world.”
— Evelyn Spence ’94
THE NARRATIVE LANDSCAPE B
In the outdoors we find stories — ones that deserve not only our memories, but also our record-keeping.
Y THE TIME I SHOULDERED an external frame backpack for my 8thgrade beach hike on the Olympic coast — a Lakeside tradition that started back in 1971 — I fancied myself well-versed in the outdoors. My parents had driven me, bleary-eyed, to ski Crystal Mountain since I was 3 years old. We’d hiked off dozens of shady, needle-softened trails around western Washington, fending off gray jays from our cheese sandwiches, caulking our morning pancakes with brown sugar instead of syrup.
The details of that 8th-grade hike are indistinct and loose; it was a very long time ago, after all, the dawn of the 1990s. I don’t remember if we headed north or south, or whether we passed by Sand Point or Ruby Beach. Most of the trip lives in me as impressions: the way some of the trees were hunched and flagged by the wind, with branches only on the leeward side. The afternoon when almost all of us played football on flat, wide, perfectly firm sand — while a few of us lounged on driftwood logs as big as futons. The only sharp image: the night we pitched our tents near the mouth of a river, only to be awakened in the pitch darkness by water lapping into our sleeping bags. We scrabbled our gear together and ran toward the bluffs. Tides. We all, including our trip leader — nameless, another completely lost memory — hadn’t accounted for tides. It was a mistake, but it was also a story.
I didn’t think about that misadventure in such explicit terms back then, yet I sensed the significance of it, beyond bonding with peers and gazing at the incomprehensible stars and exploring the edges of our collective comfort zones. The outdoors could be a narrative. A narrative could layer meaning onto a natural place. And, if well-versed, that meaning could impact and inspire others, like a lesson we intrinsically knew but still needed to be told.
Two years later, I joined the Outdoor Program coordinator, Ernie Jones, on a weeklong ski mountaineering trip to Mount Adams. This was different: an expedition, with climbing skins and crampons and ice axes. My parents had never done this. Using the Lunch Counter approach from the south side to the summit usually takes two days, but we hiked 3,800 feet up from Cold Springs and set up a barren base camp for almost a week. We practiced using our touring gear — which, in the early 1990s, was janky and crisscrossed with a confusing number of straps. One morning, we skinned up a mellow, 20-degree slope and tried to ski the
“IT WAS A CLASSIC NARRATIVE ARC: ROCKY (IN THIS CASE, LITERAL) UPWARD PROCESS, TRIUMPH, AND A DENOUEMENT OF SORTS, AS WE MADE ROLLICKING AND FLAILING TURNS BACK TO THE LUNCH COUNTER. WHERE, OF COURSE, WE SAT AROUND AND TOLD STORIES ABOUT WHAT WE HAD JUST DONE.”
deeply sun-cupped surface in boots not much stiffer than Uggs. A comedy of errors. We drank hot cocoa while leaning against rocky windbreaks. On summit day, our goal was to carry our skis to the very top of Adams, but we ditched them partway because we knew the bumpy, runaway descent would be so awful. The south approach has a major false summit — a special kind of letdown — but we pushed through all the way to 11,500 feet and a 360-degree view of the world.
It was a classic narrative arc: rocky (in this case, literal) upward process, triumph, and a denouement of sorts, as we made rollicking and flailing turns back to the Lunch Counter. Where, of course, we sat around and told stories about what we had just done.
I had no idea what a narrative arc was until I became a writer, but I sensed it. We’re all storytellers, I believe; I just happen to be one who turned it into a career. These days, I get to write things that, thanks to ink and technology, are read even by people I’ve never met.
I had no idea, after Mount Adams, that someone could actually make a life out of (1) writing and (2) writing about the outdoors. Then, in my mid-20s, I discovered I could send myself (or beg to be sent) to places like Mongolia and Slovakia and the Sierra to attempt narratives of my own, after which I would commit the trip to paper and make a little bit of money. More pedestrian, I could sit at a desk and call athletes who push boundaries and write about their how, and what, and, most important, why. I could tell their stories. I developed an instinct for identifying the sharp images, the spoken sentiments, that are anchors among all the fuzz, the ones that become the lede or the kicker, the
ones that deserve not only our memories but our record-keeping.
I’ll be the first to admit that what I write about may not be obviously important, the way a piece of investigative journalism or a breaking interview can be. I’m no reporter, too timid for that — though I suppose I’m reporting on the world we inhabit and how we will never stop learning from it. It’s a sweet little niche: I don’t think it’s particularly common to find a job that’s both intellectual and physical, brain and body, compassionate and occasionally almost blindingly spiritual. It’s vocation and avocation all rolled into one.
I don’t remember if I kept a journal during my middle school beach hike or jotted notes as I hunkered down on the rugged flanks of Adams — or if, maybe, I had an assignment from a teacher to make concrete what I knew had happened to me. Yet all these years removed from Lakeside, here I am, and the sharpness comes. In some ways, that’s what education is all about: not just providing knowledge, but teaching us how to recognize what is truly significant beyond ourselves. And how to communicate that significance to others.
That afternoon on the flat, wide, perfectly firm sand of the Olympic coast, one of my classmates fell asleep on a log, his legs dangling, his hands held across his bare stomach. He was there for hours. When he woke up, the sun had burned his torso a furious red — and had left two fair handprints on his skin, just above his belly button. They were distinct. Sharp, even. In that moment, I didn’t quite realize how sharp those outlines were. Didn’t realize, until now — until I sat down to write — how much of an impression it had truly made on me.
— Evelyn Spence ’94
OUTDOOR NARRATIVES
Ibegan hiking with Lakeside 8th graders on the Pacific Coast in 1977. I loved seeing students abandon the trappings of city life — cars, roads, buildings, TV. Away from these things, students talked and sang more, made up games out of seaweed and shells, and marveled at the sand, the surf, and the eagles.
They also learned rapidly because of the immediate consequences of not learning. If you didn’t set up your tent right, it fell down. If you dawdled too much and missed the tide, you had to stop and wait six hours. If you camped below the high tide line, you got soaked in the middle of the night. All of these things happened to students on hikes, but they never happened to the same students twice.
My most vivid impression is that Lakeside students turned hardship into great memories, and that brings us to a story.
On one trip, we hiked for three days in pouring rain and strong winds. As our exhausted group staggered into camp on the last night, we found that the campsite was already occupied. We would have to hike another mile in the dark. The group took it well, but after a few minutes of hiking, I turned around to look at the students, walking slowly behind me. Every one of them was silently crying. They were tired and scared, but they had no choice but to keep going. So, they lurched on while the tears rolled down their faces. One boy looked particularly uncomfortable, but he waved away my attempt to check in with him. Spoiler: at the end of the trip, I found that this boy had been hiking with a broken arm, and neither he nor I knew it.
It became clear that we would have to camp immediately, long before we reached any suitable site. We climbed a steep hill to get out of reach of the surf. Each tent group picked a large tree on the slope and pitched their wet tent on the tiny level patch between the tree and the slope above it. I made
dinner in the rain and brought it to each tent, ladling hot soup into bowls held by trembling hands reaching out of wet tent doors.
Eventually, exhaustion triumphed over discomfort, and all the students fell asleep. I went to my tent, but an hour later, I was awakened by a voice uttering a nonstop stream of swear words. One girl, driven out of her tent by the need to relieve herself, had slipped and fallen into a large pile of bear excrement. This was enough to push her over the edge of her normal discretion to reveal a healthy reservoir of anger and profanity.
In the morning, I was expecting a grim and resentful group to appear before me. I couldn’t have been more wrong. When the sun rose, the conversation in the tents and at breakfast was all about how they had survived the worst and how tough they were that they could handle such a terrible day and night. And the happiest, most hilarious pair was the boy with the broken arm and the girl who had been swearing furiously the night before.
After the summer passed, I happened to meet most of the group on the quad at the Upper School. They went on and on, telling stories and laughing and telling me that they had had such a great trip. I’ll never forget one student’s conclusion: “We knew we were going to have a good time. What we didn’t know is that we would have the time of our lives.”
Amen to that.
It’s late at night, you're warm and snuggled in your sleeping bag, with the cool air gently brushing your cheeks. It's idyllic. Until ... you have to pee.
I tossed and turned, trying to stave off the inevitable, but finally accepted my fate. I begrudgingly unzipped my crinkly orange bivy bag and wriggled out, finding my shoes where they were tucked upside down next to me (always upside down — thanks Jara!). I walked past a gnarled pinyon pine, happened to look up, and was confused to see what looked like a long, thin cloud stretching overhead in the otherwise crystal-clear desert sky. It took me a minute to realize I was seeing the Milky Way for the first time. I felt wonder, giddiness, and a deep sense of fulfilment. And I’ve basically spent my career since then chasing that feeling, from the valleys of New Zealand to the mountaintops of the West, where I’ve worked for the National Park Service for more than 10 years. I can’t express my gratitude to the Lakeside Outdoor Program for introducing me to that feeling and opening the door to those experiences and this career.
Q— Tom Rona ’72
— Peri Sasnett ’07
uest, 2000: canoeing down the Green River in Utah for three weeks with English teacher Tom Doelger, Outdoor Program coordinator Chip Mehring, and nine other seniors from my class. I remember:
• The awe I felt paddling and hiking under the soaring ochre cliffs.
• The night breeze on my face as we slept under the open sky for the entire three-week trip, only a waterproof bivy sack over our sleeping bags.
• Learning all the words to “Ripple” and “Country Roads” and singing them accompanied by a friend’s travel guitar as the light of the “golden hour” waned in the evenings.
• Coming across Anasazi ruins and fully intact clay pots; feeling connected to this ancient culture in ways a book or museum exhibit could never incite.
• The surprising feeling of accomplishment resulting from not showering for three weeks. What else was I capable of that seemed unthinkable in the context of everyday life?
— Jocelyn Lippert ‘00 Alt
This summer I was tying up a boat at our summer cabin in Maine, and thought, “Hmm … a bowline would be very handy here.” I was actually tying up the bowline of a boat, so now I know where the knot gets its name! To my surprise, my hands remembered the knot I first learned in Lakeside’s Outdoor Program more than 20 years earlier.
Of many memorable outdoor experiences at Lakeside, the one that sticks out is kayaking around Desolation Sound for 10 days one “summer.” It rained every single day, and our seats were wet the whole time. We managed to light fires in the drizzle, navigate from island to island through the gray mist, eat huddled in tents or under trees — and, yes, tie bowline knots in soaking wet rope. Despite the rainy weather, the trip ignited my love for kayaking and exploring — and most of all protecting these sacred places.
— Dawn Lippert ’02
Water is life, but it can also take life. This is a story of dumb luck and survival the day the vessel we called the “Banana Boat” floated over Snoqualmie Falls. We had built the covered whitewater canoe at Lakeside using fiberglass and yellow pigmented resin.
For Doug Gordon ’73 and me, this was our first river run as second-year paddlers with the Lakeside kayak club. Our group had left some cars at a take-out above the falls, and then piled into David Halpern ’73s car to head for the put-in. We were wearing wetsuits, so we must have been quite a sight to the police officer who stopped us for a reason I don’t recall.
Doug paddled the bow while I pad dled the stern of our canoe. First-year paddlers were tipping over in their kayaks and swimming right and left. Rather than helping them to shore, as, looking back, I know we should have done for our sake and theirs, Doug and I paddled on ahead. As daylight faded to dusk, a heaven-sent tree branch was thrust between us, stopping our forward progress. We couldn’t see each other through the leaves, nor hear each other because of the sound of the river. Unbeknownst to us, the river was about to drop 268 feet over Snoqualmie Falls just downstream from us.
We clambered out onto an island, and considered waiting for the others to catch up, but it was getting dark,
which meant we had likely passed the take-out. So we jumped 7 or 8 feet down into the cold rushing water, swam to the river bank, and climbed ashore. We bushwhacked through a dense stand of forest, and eventually came out on a road. Soon, some of our kayak buddies drove by and picked us up. I felt relieved and surprised by our luck in reuniting with our friends so quickly.
That night the Banana Boat, freed from the branch, floated passengerless over the falls, where its pieces were found the next day. By then, I had returned home to Seattle, only to leave again with David for the Olympic Peninsula. The authorities, meanwhile, putting together the smashed boat and the car full of teens in wetsuits, called David’s parents, and asked, “Do you know where your son is?”
Upon learning the fate of our boat,
I felt immensely grateful that we were alive and made a note-to-self to stay with my group during future outdoor adventures. I became even more cautious after giving birth to three children and didn’t run another whitewater river until they were grown.
These days, I mostly paddle the gentle Salmon River that flows between our house and an estuary on the central Oregon coast. I tried surfing the ocean waves a mile downstream with my experienced ocean kayaker neighbor a few times, but then decided I would prefer watching my seven grandkids grow up than cater to the part of me that still appreciates exhilarating outdoor experiences.
Doug never gave up on the thrill of whitewater kayaking, becoming a member of the U.S. kayak slalom team and a world-class whitewater kayaker. When someone he knew died on a river in 1997, Doug wrote, “Running hard whitewater is dangerous, and those doing so must accept that risk [of death] as the price of pursuing their sport at a high level.” Doug himself died a year later while on a National Geographic-sponsored expedition in eastern Tibet attempting the first descent of the Tsangpo River.
I imagine that much of my courage and resilience was forged on rivers during my teen years while feeling the fear and cold of entering glacierfed whitewater rapids, but doing it anyway. I also imagine that the Lakeside Outdoor Program, which began the year after I graduated, is tamer than the Lakeside kayak club was in its early days. As much as I loved running class III and IV rivers as a teen, on behalf of all the family members who love Lakeside students, my responsible adult self hopes that the Lakeside Outdoor Program offers the same lessons of courage and resilience that I learned — and more training for how to dance safely in the wild outdoors.
— Melanie Graves ‘74 Rios
For more stories from Lakeside’s Outdoor Program, go to lakesideschool.org/magazine
THE HEART OF THE ANDES
Students in Lakeside’s longest-running GSL program come each year to the Sacred Valley of Peru and become — memorably — a part of the region’s vibrant culture and daily life.
PHOTOGRAPHS BY BELAMI CÁRDENAS • TEXT BY DEBBY HEATH
RETURNING HOME Quechua women from the village of Patachancha, located in the Andean highlands at 10,000 feet, walk home after serving a traditional “Pachamanca” meal for the Lakeside students on the last day of the trip. Dressed in their typical skirts and handwoven scarves, the women carry supplies and weavings on their backs. Village members had worked for several hours to prepare this final meal in appreciation of the students’ service.
COMMUNITY RITUAL Matthew W. ’26 kicks a ball around with the local women as co-leader Christina Deierling looks on. Students enjoyed the weekly games on the main square of the village during late afternoons before the evening chill set in. Playing sports was a great way for students to connect with the community, particularly for the non-Spanish speakers in the group. In Patachancha and other Andean villages, girls and women play soccer, not just boys and men.
PICTURE OF GRATITUDE On the last day of the monthlong adventure, Lakeside’s 12 students and three leaders pose with community members and homestay families for a group photo. Although Lakeside GSL has been in Peru for two decades, the 2024 trip marked the first time the school sent students to the remote village of Patachanca, an hour drive from the much larger Ollantaytambo, gateway to the World Heritage Site Machu Picchu.
THE WARMTH OF A HOMESTAY Roommates Matthew W. ’26 and Ethan B. ’27 enjoy laughter and a hot cup of mate with their homestay family. Their home — which doubles as a small store and bakery — was a hub of daily activity. The students learned how to make bread with the family’s commercial-sized oven. The Lakeside group wrote and posted their daily blogs from here, as this was the only home in the village with an internet connection. Lakeside had set it up for the family so we could write our blogs in Patachanca instead of traveling to Ollantaytambo each day.
SORTING THE HARVEST Lakesiders Esperanza A. ’26 and Liz E. ’26 help their host family clean and separate potatoes from dirt and rocks. Selected over centuries for their taste, texture, shape, and color, Peruvian potatos incude 4,000 varieties and are well adapted to the harsh conditions that prevail at high elevations. Students ate potatoes at every meal, since it’s the staple food of the region — they even wrote haikus and odes to potatoes in their journals.
FERTILITY CEREMONY Liza B. ’25 receives a coca leaf, believed to be a sacred offering to the Pachamama, or Mother Earth, as Liz E. ’26 waits her turn. Students participated fully in the fertility ceremony, drinking chicha, chewing coca leaves, and offering a private prayer to the shaman leading the sacred ritual. Upon completion of the ceremony, hundreds of llamas were released to — hopefully — procreate.
WOVEN INTO THE FABRIC
The first threads of what became the Global Service Learning Program can be traced to the school’s pilot trip to Peru, in 2001. Vicki Weeks ’73 led the trip. It informed and expanded her vision of what international service learning trips could look like at Lakeside. For one of the juniors in the group, Kennedy Leavens ’02, the trip “informed everything” she would go on to do. In college, Leavens studied Latin American history and developed special interests in women’s issues and economic development. After graduating, she returned to Ollantaytambo and the rugged highlands of Peru’s Sacred Valley, where she got involved with a small cooperative of Andean weavers. The girls’ and women’s textiles were being sold through a museum store operated, tenuously, by an English archaeologist as a means of keeping the traditional Quechua art alive. When the museum closed its doors two years later, Leavens (all of 24 years old) and a Peruvian business partner founded a nonprofit to continue the work with the weavers. They named their organization Awamaki, derived from the Quechua awa (meaning “loom”) and maki (meaning “hand”). Their mission was to preserve traditional hand-weaving techniques through expanding cross-
Photo: Chloe Collyer
Awamaki’s Kennedy Leavens ’02 is committed to bringing prosperity to traditional Andean weavers.
cultural markets and sustainable tourism.
Leavens lived in Peru off and on for eight years getting the organization off the ground. Awamaki has become a regular partner for Lakeside’s GSL Peru trips. (It’s one of three GSL partners with Lakeside connections. The other two are Daweyu Hills, a project founded by Lizzie Scribner ’77 to improve the livelihood of northern Thailand’s Lahu Sheleh community, and Fiji’s Rise Beyond the Reef, founded by Janet West ’96 Lotawa.) In 2018, a special Lakeside GSL Peru/history class engaged in an intensive three-week service project with Awamaki and brought to life one of Vicki Weeks’s original GSL pie-in-the-sky ideas: to integrate international service learning in the curriculum of an academic class at Lakeside.
“The Lakeside approach to global service learning is a model,” says Leavens. “It’s not about providing a tourist experience. Instead of trying to straddle the worlds of local culture and Western comforts, their trips are focused on immersion, in rural areas, on the students being a part of the community. That’s what makes these trips such a positive and powerful experience.”
— Jim Collins
GSL REFLECTIONS
Most days in Chiang Mai were filled with labor, including earthen building, plastering, and laying concrete bricks. However, the service was not solely limited to labor. The experience spread into the home stay. As I aided my host family with household chores and engaged with the children, I learned about the Lahu’s cultural beliefs, traditions, and perspectives. Although I knew I would return to the comfort of my home after a month, constructing new bathrooms and rebuilding the walls of the coffee roastery were an eye-opening experience. My contributions would have lasting effects on the lives of the villagers. The service completely altered my mindset from “these are just tasks to complete” to “my actions have weight.”
— Lukman Abow ’24, GSL Thailand
Over the course of our month, we ran a soccer camp, recorded videos for a local women’s weaving cooperative (which was part the Anou Cooperative, a collective of more than 600 artisans from across Morocco), and taught English, French, and math classes. Along with a few of my peers, I led the “advanced” English class for almost the entire month. It was an incredible way to get to know some of the kids our age in the village. We learned a lot from them and taught them what we could. They would often tell us the Darija translations of words we taught them, and we would always try and do the demos in Darija after they did the activities in English. Apart from service, I went for a walk
almost every day with the local kids and got to know people on a deeper level. I learned a lot about cultural differences between collectivist and individualist cultures and how that applied to our host community. I made friendships that I am still hoping to continue now that we are back home.
—
Sonya Hamid ’24, GSL Morocco
In the rural town of Cambugan, our GSL group paved a patio outside the community school and ran day camps for kids in the surrounding area. I learned hands-on skills such as cement mixing and paving, and met and played with children, who were welcoming, kind, mature — and good at soccer. I was struck by how different our two kinds of service work were: one was very physical, with obvious exertion and measurable impacts, while the other was more interaction-based, intangible, and allowed us to connect deeply with kids of the community.
I had the opportunity to live with two host families during the month. We dove into the culture, traditions, and celebrations in the community because we were there during the Inti Raymi winter solstice festivities.
I noticed the disparities between the economy in Ecuador and in the U.S. Lack of work was often mentioned. Average income was significantly lower (about $400 U.S. a month). My host brother graduated from high school while we were there, but he told me he would have to wait four years to go to college, because he needed to work to save up for a laptop. Our second host dad worked three jobs, one of which
included a more-than-24-hour-long shift doing manual labor. Our host moms both woke up at 3 in the morning to milk cows and then worked all day until after dinner at 8 p.m. The economic differences and the general work ethic I saw in Cambugan will stay with me as I journey into financial independence and explore my economic privileges.
— Sydney Trunnell ’24, GSL Ecuador
In French Polynesia, my perspective of service was shaped and reshaped by the many different opportunities we had to engage with the culture there: learning dance and music, planting coral, va‘a (Tahitian canoeing), and making traditional Polynesian fish nets. Many of these activities were done with the most amazing person — a cultural ambassador named Dgelma whose in-depth, endless local knowledge was an extreme help and inspiration.
Our service was working to preserve the culture that is being lost because of colonization and other cultural influences. This was done in many ways — one being learning the Orero, a speech we worked to recite for many hours that spoke about the land of Raiatea (where we stayed) in the native language of Tahitian. Service can be seen as helping build something, or financially supporting a community, or, in this case, cultural exchange. Sharing our American culture with the locals, as well as learning about theirs, opened my eyes to a new idea of “service learning.”
— Stuart B. ’25, GSL French Polynesia
On the GSL Costa Rica trip, our service work consisted of helping the community of Yorkin plant trees to reforest their land and gain additional food sources; move rocks and sand to stabilize building foundations; harvest a type of banana fiber; and hand-weed the Cendero, the community’s interpretive trail for visitors. I learned about different types of manu and plantain trees and how to use a machete. But beyond surface-level knowledge and skills, the immersion into the Bribri community provided the opportunity to learn about dayto-day life, struggles the locals face, strengths and values they hold, and the role the Yorkin community has in global society.
I noticed how my host family’s days were filled mainly with farming, washing clothes, and a significant amount of down time, which they filled with socializing with family and friends. This was a marked difference from life in the U.S., where food comes mostly from automated farms with few workers, laundry is done quickly in machines, and, at least for me, I don’t have much free time — and, when I do, I don’t usually socialize and instead turn to technology for something to do.
The liveliness and joy I witnessed here is something that I often don’t see in the U.S. as frequently. I hope I can find some way to incorporate a bit of it into my life back home.
— Wayland M-F. ’26, GSL Costa Rica
My experience in Costa Rica caused me to reflect on many different issues regarding service. One of the main things: appreciation for the sustainable life that the Bribri have been
building. You can tell that it’s truly intentional — they specifically don’t use pesticides on their produce; they don’t use machinery to wash clothes, to avoid pollution; they use solar energy. It was inspirational to notice all these little details they have incorporated into their lives in order to help the environment — and amazing to see how easy it was for them. It didn't seem like a burden at all, as they were all so used to it.
Doing service work that was so intrinsically connected to the nature around us, being so immersed in the beauty of wildlife, I was able to witness what it means to be environmentally conscious. This has stayed with me back in Seattle. I really want to make changes within my lifestyle in order to respect nature the way the Bribri do. I’ve started cutting down on my meat intake, limiting my time in the shower, using cold water rather than hot water. I learned so much from the Bribri community that I don’t think I'll ever be able to repay it.
— Anjali W. ’25, GSL Costa Rica
Our service days in Fiji consisted of planting breadfruit, planting cassava, and helping build a plant nursery through the organization Rise Beyond the Reef. The organization — founded by Janet West ’96 Lotawa — works to support education while empowering women and creating opportunities to be financially independent. But the majority of our time was spent with students at the Nalotawa District School. We connected with them every day and facilitated different games, including volleyball, netball, rugby, and hand games. The amount of joy that the kids radiated was indescribably in-
fectious. Every day, they would meet us with smiles plastered on their faces and unceasing excitement to play each and every game. One of the things this trip has taught me is to enjoy the raw purities of life. Playing games with the kids reminded me that life is not as stressful as it seems; sometimes simple games and laughter are all you need to find happiness.
From a service perspective, it took me a long time to figure out what we were actually providing by playing games with the kids. Was it bringing joy? Facilitating activities? Making friends? We had several discussions centered on what actions actually count as service.
During a morning meeting, one of our trip leaders, Pate, made a resonating comment: “Our words of encouragement around the kids gives them a lot of confidence.” He noted that many of the students at Nalotawa never leave the mountain villages — and the reality is, he told us, that those who don’t continue in school may never do so. Thus our belief in them might provide them with confidence in themselves. Pate, a successful Fijian rugby player and coach, told the students that he was an example of what they could accomplish.
That is one of the most inspiring memories I have from our time in Fiji. On the last day of the trip, I spent time writing a long letter to an 8th grade friend I’d made. I wrote many things in that letter, first and foremost as a genuine friend, but also with lots of words of encouragement.
Although we had only a short month together, I hope that, beyond the games we played, the relationships I created and the stories I shared instilled a little bit of belief and confidence in at least one person and motivated them to continue with school and be successful in their life. That’s the service I hope I provided.
— Nisseffo Nolawiheir ’24 , GSL Fiji
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO BE A GOOD COMMUNITY MEMBER?
The current iteration of Lakeside’s Service Learning Program is built on the program it became over the past two decades — and values that make a positive impact.
BY ALY COUNSELL-TORRES ’13
Zinda Foster was the service learning coordinator before me at Lakeside, and she was the heart and soul of the program. She passed away two years ago. She meant so much to me, and I miss her dearly. Her legacy and impact are hard to put into words — not only on the Service Learning Program, which she really shaped and brought so much thought and care to, but also her impact on the Lakeside community. When I was a student, she made me feel so seen and valued. I would spend most of my free periods sitting in her office — probably on the very same couches students sit on when they meet with me. There were dozens of students who felt the same way during the nearly two decades that Zinda oversaw the Service Learning Program, probably hundreds.
Zinda was the kind of person who wouldn’t let you get away with living below your potential. She could see the best in people and would encourage students to live up to the goodness she could see in them. She brought an indescribable warmth to the campus — and to my life personally. Even after I graduated, whenever I returned to visit, her office was one of my first stops on campus. She brought a values-driven approach to her work. In the same way she held students to high standards, she also viewed service learning as something that should have a meaningful impact on students and the local community, not just a box to check in order to graduate. By getting students out of their personal networks and comfort zones, she truly brought both the service and the learning into service learning.
When I was in 9th grade, Zinda recruited me to participate in a monthly
after-school service learning trip to YouthCare’s Orion Center in downtown Seattle. The iconic neon green building, equipped with a commercial kitchen, provides drop-in services for homeless youth. A group of five or six of us would plan a meal, budget it out, buy groceries, and cook and serve it to kids our age. I remember walking into the massive kitchen hauling our bags of groceries and being taken aback by the warmth of the staff and their obvious dedication to the work they did. They knew the names of every kid who came into the center. I wanted to be as kind-hearted as they were. Before those service learning trips, I knew there were kids my age who did not have a home, but it was only a theoretical reality. Taking a step outside of my own experience and being a guest in the Orion Center space allowed me to learn a lot.
After I graduated from Lakeside, I had the opportunity to spend a year before college living with a homestay fam-
ily in Senegal. I was drawn to this opportunity after having participated in Global Service Learning Senegal and was eager for more ways to learn outside of a classroom setting. It was in this year that I began to build awareness of my own cultural lens, experience a taste of what it means to live in community, and realize that good intentions don’t always translate to good impact. When a friend of my homestay family offered to buy me snacks at the corner store, I politely declined — I didn’t want anyone spending money on my behalf! But it wasn’t until I had spent several days reflecting on this interaction that I realized I hadn’t been polite at all. In a culture built on hospitality, it’s a joy to be able to give, and I had deprived my host neighbors of an opportunity for reciprocity. This was tough. It was hard to admit that I knew a lot less than I thought I did, but this realization ended up being critical to my growth and understanding of what it means to be a good community member. I came to internalize some of the lessons that Zinda taught: that community isn’t something that can be learned in a classroom or read in a book. It’s a messy, complicated, humbling, and challenging process that requires vulnerability and a willingness to have challenged what you thought you knew.
In college, I dedicated myself to studying cultural anthropology with a minor in race and ethnic studies, which led me to more experiences of challenging what I thought I knew. Even in college, experiential education provided me with the most impactful learning opportunities. I regularly visited an elder of a local tribe native to the land my school occupied. The stories he shared forever shaped the way I made sense of the place I
lived. I visited prisons and jails within my school’s town, meeting people who were incarcerated but still participating members of our community. I was struck by the desire of the people I met in prison to contribute positively, spending hours mending broken materials to refurbish bicycles for local children.
My answer to the question “What does it mean to be a good community member?” was formulated by building relationships across boundaries I wouldn’t have thought to cross. The more I sought an answer to this question, the more I was pressed to expand my understanding of who was in my community to begin with. This journey started while I was a student at Lakeside, continued in Senegal, and was supported by the work I did in college and later. It transformed who I was, who I thought I would be, and the role I believe we have in shaping the communities we’re part of. Ultimately, it brought me back to Lakeside to take on the role of service learning coordinator and weave this learning into the program that launched me.
Photo: Katie M. Simmons
Over the past two years, I’ve sought to bring a community-centric approach to the Service Learning Program. In the same way that my experiences led me to seek answers for what it means to be a good community member and allowed my assumptions to be challenged, I hope that the experiences students have in this new iteration of the program will lead them to similar questions and new understandings.
One of the things I’ve intentionally incorporated in the program is opportunities for students to reflect on the inherent power dynamics within the concept of service and to consciously engage with its complexity. For me, this harkens back to the moments in Senegal where I realized that just because my intentions were good didn’t necessarily mean that my impact would be good, too. Though service is often thought of as something onedirectional that flows from a place or person of privilege toward someone who is thought to be “in need,” over time I hope that students’ understanding of service itself is turned
upside-down.
Our program is at its best when students find themselves in places not of power or authority to make decisions about a community, but of showing up, recognizing that they have a lot to learn, and vulnerably leaning in to that invitation. When students, before even beginning their service, learn about the ways that a community is meeting its own needs and commit to following the cues, wisdom, and directives of community members, we can truly seek to work alongside our neighbors in partnership. I want students to get out into the community and meet people. I want their assumptions and narratives to be challenged, and for them to have a deeper, more holistic sense of the place where they live and their place in it. Humility, curiosity, and relationship building are integral to this happening, and I’m proud to see students engage deeply with this work.
SERVICE PERSPECTIVES
During my first shift volunteering at the food bank, I witnessed a young couple spend an hour shopping before checking out their food. A few minutes later, I saw the same couple come through the back door, put on aprons, and spend the next hour doing volunteer tasks just as I was. I had previously thought there was a pretty clear divide between shoppers and volunteers — a clear distinction between who receives support and who provides it. That perspective was continually challenged as I came to the food bank more often, as I witnessed more and more interactions and intersections between the people at the food bank.
Bill, the floor manager, seemed to know every person that came through the building. I saw him talk to one family who had just collected their goods, and then he had the kids help out with carrying boxes. The food bank was the most welcoming, energetic, and supportive environment I have witnessed, and I think this was because every person in there is somewhat vulnerable. For example, even though I came in as a volunteer, there were times that I was pretty clueless on what I was supposed to do. However, it never took long for a more veteran volunteer to notice my lostness, and teach me how to do the task at hand. While there were other teenagers there who I talked to while volunteering, I am most appreciative of the older people who were excited to share their knowledge of the food bank.
What will stick with me the most is my small conversations with the shoppers, especially with the kids. My perspective has definitely shifted. I’ve realized that within service, a little vulnerability allows everyone involved to both support, and be supported.
— Emani B. ’25
In 9th grade I volunteered at the Seattle Children’s Theater. I remember enjoying the community, feeling grateful that I had found an organization that connected to my love of arts and theater. Two years later, when I look back at my involvement within the theater then, I realize that simply ushering and meeting new faces at the front doors through ticketing wasn’t necessarily making a large change within communities in need.
I’ve had to rewrite my narrative of what having a service mindset looked like. I’ve shifted my involvement with SCT to directly having conversations with people who come from my neighborhood and look like me, at the Rainier Valley Food Bank. It’s with these newfound connections and observations that I’ve learned that the meaning of “service” consists of giving back to your community, spreading inclusivity and awareness about local issues within your inner-circle of family and friends, and self-advocating for the involvement of those in our wider communities. Through these open discussions with my peers, friends, and family, I can share what I have learned, while also taking the experiences I have had at the food bank and applying that to challenges or obstacles I face as a service-oriented individual who is still learning.
—
Akal
S. ’25
The first time I volunteered at the Good Shepherd Center with Tilth Alliance, I remember being shocked at who else I saw volunteering. In my previous experiences with service learning, the people I worked alongside were either other high-schoolers looking to fulfill a service requirement, retired people who enjoyed gardening, or employees of the service organization. But at the Good Shepherd Center, I saw a whole crowd of young adults who volunteered at the community garden in their free time purely because they enjoyed it.
I’m ashamed to admit that I hadn’t realized that college students and young adults would spend significant chunks of their free time doing volunteer work without recognition or compensation (probably because the communities that I live in place such a high emphasis on prioritizing school work and individual career opportunities) — especially this type of garden work, which involves a lot of heavy, muddy weeding in 90-degree weather. But within the first few sessions, my perspective shifted completely, and I understood why they kept coming back over and over again.
The community among the volunteers at Tilth is genuine and supportive in a way that is difficult to find in my normal settings. No one is trying to be the smartest person in the room, no one spends too much time on their phone or blocks other people out with headphones, no one is doing the work they’re doing for attention. (Once, I told the person weeding next to me that I found this place while looking to fulfill my school’s service requirement, and they looked genuinely surprised that people would be here because they had to, and not because they just wanted to.) By the end of my first week, it hit me that people come to the Good Shepherd Center not because they have to, but because the chance to connect with the garden and one another is really invaluable.
— Amber P. ’25
Ihave made an effort to focus on listening as I volunteer, and I have learned so much as a consequence.
This listening started with attentively and eagerly accepting stories and lectures from Anita, one of Tilth’s fantastic volunteer coordinators I have gotten to know well over the past two years. In addition to teaching me about composting, soil health, and the importance of urban green spaces, she has helped me connect the dots between colonialism, capitalism, and rising greenhouse gas emissions.
I would have never been able to hear these lessons without approaching everyday volunteering at the urban garden with a learning/listening-focused mindset. I would also have not been exposed to a host of new opportunities outside of standard service, like conversations with researchers and professors from the University of Washington and the University of Hawaii who have continued to shape my ever-evolving perspective on the environment and how we humans fit into it.
— Yash K. ’25
The purpose of the Urban Rest Stop (URS) resonates with the concept of “mutual liberation” rather than charity. The URS is a community hygiene facility for the unhoused. The organization provides showers, laundry, restrooms, and toiletries to unsheltered individuals. These services are not just about providing basic needs, but instead are grounded in a respect for human dignity. It is about understanding that when we lift (help) one person up, we lift up society.
I have seen people enter the shower stalls feeling invisible, unwelcome, not clean. I show them kindness as they walk past me, greet them like human beings, provide them with any of the amenities they need. I see them walk out of their 15-minute shower, renewed, redressed, and confident. I’ve seen patrons stay late and help clean up the facility after they are done, not viewing it as a service but as a shared space that benefits both them and others.
Initially, I did view my volunteering as a helper from the outside, coming in from a privileged background, there to help those in need. But as I continued my work at the URS, I realized that this unconscious distance wasn’t productive, and I learned how to approach the service from a place of shared humanity, understanding that their life experiences, and mine,
Photo: Roy Arauz
whether they differ or are similar, have made my work all the more meaningful and impactful. I plan on continuing my volunteering at the URS even though all of my hours are completed as I have grown to appreciate the community and service even more each time I go.
— Arya M. ’25
Working at the food bank and at farms over the past couple of months has given me a deeper understanding of the issue of food insecurity. The image I had in mind of who might need food from a food bank was changed by the diverse people I observed coming through: I talked to young teens, older adults with canes, people who spoke Spanish only, people who were Asian, people who wore dresses, people who wore loose jeans. There’s an intersectionality between generational poverty and refugee/immigrant status that can result in a person experiencing food insecurity, and this is rooted in systemic issues. But ANYONE can fall into a situation that might result in food insecurity. You never know what a person might be going through.
My time working at 21 Acres and Marra Farms have helped me understand the larger process that goes into ending hunger and food insecurity for a community. Food security is truly a process that takes a variety of skills and talent, and the farms that I’ve worked on make up the back end of the solution. I used to not fully grasp the need for volunteering at farm and garden organizations because I couldn’t see their direct impact, but coupling their work with the work of food banks has allowed me to fully internalize their impact and need in the community. These farms and gardens support our environment and people in need of affordable, sustainable food.
— Sachi T. ’26
BY SOME MEASURES
In the first year of the new Upper School service learning system:
Number of service learning hours logged: 12,189
Number of organizations within our list of partnerships where students volunteered: 67
Number of Upper School students who participated in service learning within this one-year span: 428
Percentage of local service learning experiences that students reported connected to a personal passion or interest of theirs: 63.3%
Percentage of local service learning experiences that students reported provided an opportunity to develop a new passion or interest: 63.0% a new skill: 82.0%
Percentage of local service learning experiences that students reported provided an opportunity to make a positive impact in their own neighborhood or within a community they identify with: 78.4%
Percentage of local service learning experiences that students reported provided an opportunity to gain a new perspective: 89.5%
Data from October 2023 – October 2024
ALUMNI EVENTS
ON OCT. 24, nearly 40 alumni, their guests, a few former and current faculty and staff, and two dogs all convened for a lively night out at Reuben’s Barrel House in Fremont. The Alumni Board received well-deserved acknowledgment for its efforts in helping draw such a good turnout. Head of School Kai Bynum shared updates on the exciting things happening at Lakeside, including how the school and our students are utilizing and integrating AI, the upcoming rollout of the strategic plan, and details on the new academic building project — all of which sparked a number of questions from alums in attendance. Some of the 2015 and 2020 class members in attendance even started making preliminary plans for their upcoming reunion in June 2025.
— Amanda Campbell
2024-2025 LAKESIDE/ST. NICHOLAS ALUMNI BOARD
Welcome Aboard!
1) FEAVEN BERHE ’14 is a senior consultant at Deloitte Consulting. She enjoys social events and spending time with her Wheaton Terrier Poodle, Buna. An adventurer at heart, Feaven can even unicycle. Some of her favorite Lakeside memories include traveling with School Year Abroad Italy and exploring Canyonlands.
2) TERRANCE BLAKELY ’06 is part of the sales and business development team at McKinstry. He earned his degree from Trinity University in 2010. Terrance spends his time focusing on fitness and being with family. His favorite Lakeside memory is going on beach hikes.
3) KIA DAVIS ’95 is a principal at Artemis Connection and the founder of Flashpoint 100. She holds a bachelor’s in psychology from Yale and an MBA from Insead, a leading international school of business management with campuses in France, Singapore, Abu Dhabi, and a hub in San Francisco. Outside of her professional life, Kia is passionate about dance and has a creative past as a member of a punk band in the early 2000s.
4) AURORA GILBERT ’10 BEAUCLAIR is the chief of staff at Banyan Software. She earned her undergraduate degree from Columbia University and completed her MBA at Stanford in 2023. Aurora and her husband, Chase (also Lakeside ’10), enjoy road trips and exploring the Pacific Northwest with their 1-year-old son, Dash. Her first j7as acting in a 19-show professional production of “The Wizard of Oz” at age 11.
5) JUNEMEE KIM ’97 is a professional mentor for parents and students
and an executive function and organiza tional consultant. With an AB in social studies from Harvard College and degrees in regional studies East Asia and history and anthropology from Harvard Graduate School of Arts & Sciences, Junemee brings a wealth of academic experience to her work. She lives with her partner, Steven Kim, and their three children, Emerson ’27, Griffin ’30, and Bennet, a rising 4th grader. Junemee’s eclectic taste in music spans from Dolly Parton to Eminem, Bon Jovi to Dua Lipa, and Elgar to Coltrane. Her favorite Lakeside memory is serving as captain of both the women’s lacrosse team and the speech and debate team during the year each team made it to the state finals.
6) ALEJANDRO LUNA-JULIANO ’08 is a senior instructional designer who graduated from the University of Washington. He enjoys dancing, gaming, reading, exercise, and spending time with his wife, Alice, and their daughter, Viola. Known for his playful humor, Alejandro says he “had fun once just to see what it was like — not for me.” A standout Lakeside memory is the Global Service Learning trip to northeast China in 2006.
7) CHRIS POHL ’00 is a nurse practitioner with a master of science in nursing. Passionate about bicycle advocacy, volunteerism, and philanthropy, he balances his professional life with being a husband and father to two boys. Chris is currently training for a trail ultramarathon. A favorite Lakeside memory is being part of the chorale that sang the South African National Anthem to Nelson Mandela during his visit to Seattle.
8) SHEA VELLING ’07 is a procurement manager with a BA degree. Shea lives with his wife, son, and two corgis. Fun family highlight: one of their dogs competed in the Corgi Racing World Championship. His favorite (Shea’s not the Corgi’s) Lakeside memory is “Crush in the Slush.”
9) SYLVIA XU ’12 ROSS is a fixed income trader at Invesco and a 2016 graduate of Colby College. In her free time, she enjoys cooking new recipes, practicing Pilates, and traveling with her husband, Clint, and their dog, Kona. Sylvia hasn’t camped since her Lakeside outdoor trip on the John Day River. One of her most special Lakeside moments was watching Mr. Doelger speak at her little sister’s baccalaureate the year he retired, a full-circle moment.
DISTINGUISHED ALUMNI AWARD
Ronnie Cunningham ’86
During the Upper School assembly on Nov. 13, Ronnie Cunningham was presented with the 2024-2025 Lakeside/St. Nicholas Distinguished Alumni Award. The following citation was read aloud as part of the presentation.
THE SUMMER BEFORE Ronnie Cunningham started fourth grade at Martin Luther King Elementary School in Madison Valley, his two older sisters signed up for the Lakeside Educational Enrichment Program. Cunningham had no idea what it was, but every morning he walked with them to the bus stop, watched them board, and headed home alone to make himself fried bologna or scrambled eggs. One day, the driver (either legendary coach Bill McMahon, class of 1961, or former LEEP director Craig Stewart) suggested, “Hey, why don’t you just hop on?” That step was auspicious: Cunningham joined his sisters for a few days that summer, then six weeks the next, learning to build hobby rockets, going camping at Cape Alava, and soon after was asked to join the 5thgrade class at Lakeside. He became the first Black student who attended the school for all eight years, a lifer. His most vivid memory of the first day: showing up — smiling with big, wide eyes — in a blue corduroy suit, hoping to fit in.
Showing up. If there’s a pattern, an intention, throughout Cunningham’s life, it may well be this: showing up. He has always been present, loyal, and game; he’s both vulnerable and uncompromising, soft-hearted and tough. While he now has a pages-long CV and a wall of certificates that prove his bona fides in psychology, education, and athletics, it is his relationships that mean the most to him — and, by extension, to us. In the modern noise of self-promotion, fast stats, and buzz, Cunningham stands out by ignoring all of it. What he wants most of all is to help his clients change, improve, and fly off strong: to
Ronnie Cunningham’s career has blended psychology, education, and athletics.
render himself obsolete. His impact is immeasurable and most worthy of recognition.
True, he was a four-sport athlete at Lakeside, then went on to play football and become an all-American in track and field at Occidental College, where he was awarded the African American Male Scholar of the Year in 1990. True, he was called to help save a German pro football team from relegation — then stayed abroad to play for four years. He has worked as the program director of Conflict Resolution Unlimited and a mental health specialist at Seattle Children’s Home. True, he was the head football coach at Nathan Hale from 1995 to 2003 — while earning his master’s in school psychology and Ph.D. in educational psychology at the University of Washington, directing internships, teaching at LEEP and the UW, and raising his own kids. At the same time, Cun-
ningham joined a brand-new organization called Rainier Scholars, a rigorous academic program to place and support students of color in the college preparatory system, including schools like Lakeside. For nine years, he was their educational psychologist, dean, fundraiser, marketer, researcher. Since 2012, he has been a practicing therapist, providing counsel for children, teens, and families. He has never stopped showing up for anyone who is fortunate enough to enter his orbit. And after a meandering life of serendipity and connection, all he cares about is what he is doing right now. As he says, “I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up until just a few years ago. I looked around and realized, this is it.”
Former students speak of Cunningham with reverence: He’s engaging, maybe even intimidating at first. He’s a superhero, a protector, a mentor, a listener. Says one, “He instilled in me a self-belief that I could do anything.” Says another, “I knew he had it from the first time I saw him.” Most of them have a familiar refrain: “I wouldn’t have gone to Lakeside if it weren’t for Ronnie.” Thanks in no small part to Rainier Scholars — and, really, to Cunningham — Lakeside is a different, more diverse, and immeasurably better place than it was when a little boy showed up in a blue corduroy suit.
For his lifelong service to children and families, his unwavering dedication to our mental and emotional health, and the inspiration and support he has provided to countless students at Lakeside and well beyond, the Lakeside/St. Nicholas Alumni Association is proud to honor Ronnie Cunningham ’86 with the 2024 Distinguished Alumni Award.
CLASS CONNECTIONS
Classes of 2006 & 2007
LINE OF DUTY To enhance safety at sporting events and large campus gatherings, Lakeside has turned to a couple of familiar faces: Seattle Police officers Coco Daranciang ’06 and Lauren Balter ’07. Director of Community Safety David Buerger describes the officers as a positive presence on campus, noting that at last year’s open house for prospective families, “They were the stars of the show, fielding questions from families and wearing their alumni buttons with pride.” Daranciang, a Lakeside “lifer” whose father was also a police officer, says, “It’s been a lot of fun to reconnect with the people I haven’t seen in years, and just to see the school through a different lens.” Balter, a former Lakeside softball coach, says, “I’m just a very grateful alumna of Lakeside. I try to give back when I have the chance.”
CLASS CONNECTIONS
1952
Phyllis Hayes, author of a 1980 history of St. Nicholas School, recently got to tell her own life story. She was one of six residents at Northaven Senior Living to be interviewed by students in the Lakeside Summer Institute’s journalism class. The life stories were published in The Northaven Story Project, which was printed and distributed to the Northaven community.
1966
On a September Saturday, Skip Kotkins enjoyed a memorable birthday rowing outing organized by his wife, Jackie. He was joined by fellow alums, Kriss Sjoblom ’69 and Lakeside coach Peter Augusciak ‘11, along with four current Lakeside students and captains of the varsity squads. The group rowed the Gary Wright 8+ rowing shell along the scenic north end of Lake Washington. The crew finished the row with a stretch of rowing all eight in the slough, including a strike and glide to balance, followed by a series of high fives down the boat.
1969
See 1966 note about Kriss Sjoblom.
1973
The first of a planned three-volume
Lakeside journalist Serena S. ’27 says good-bye to Phyllis Hayes ’52 following their interview at Northaven Senior Living in Seattle. The project was part of the Lakeside Summer Institute (see page 10.)
memoir by Bill Gates, “Source Code” (Knopf), is scheduled for publication in February 2025. The book details events in Gates’ life from his growing-up years in Seattle through his time at Lakeside to his
1974
decision, at age 20, to drop out of Harvard and pursue a dream of starting a software company.
See story on next page for Laura MacColl Wishik.
Among the ’74 classmates who returned to Lakeside’s campus for last June’s class reunion, Ann Heideman reported having traveled around the U.S. with their beloved Chihuahua. Marc McDonald has started sailing out of Sequim and recently finished refurbishing an RV — so more travel in the works there. Ken Creager has continued his earthquake research at the University of Washington, analyzing tremor signals recorded by seismology stations throughout the Cascadia region in an attempt to better understand “slow slip” along plate boundaries. And Laura Graham, professor emerita at the University of Iowa and an expert on the A’uwěXavante people of central Brazil, recently started a project on the web to highlight the tribe’s culture.
See 2011 note about Tom Weeks.
1975
See 2010 note about Lee Brillhart.
1976
Bruce Bailey ’59 shares, “Peter Osgood has retired after 40 years working in the Claremont Colleges admissions system. A Pomona graduate himself, Peter spent 14 years at this alma mater working up to the
title of associate dean of admissions. In 1998, he moved over to become the director of admissions at Harvey Mudd College, a post he held for 26 years until his retirement this past June. Congratulations to Peter on an outstanding career, as well as appreciation for his positive and appropriate decisions on countless applications from Lakeside students to these schools through the years.”
1978
See 2010 note about Kimberlee Porter Brillhart.
1979
See 2011 note about Sally Sterne Revere.
1980
Scilla Andreen writes, “After 20 years, my partner, Eric Winn, and I had a surprise wedding and are now legal. We have six kids between us. I’ve also fully transitioned from Hollywood to health care, using stories and film to create mental health literacy programs for students, fam-
Continued on page 49
SEND US YOUR NEWS! Events big and small, personal, or professional, chance meetings, fun adventures, a shout-out to a classmate for a recent accomplishment … we’d love to hear about them all. Share your baby announcement and photo, and we’ll outfit your little lion with a Lakeside bib. Photo guidelines: High resolution, ideally 1 MB or larger. If sending from a smartphone, be sure to select “original size.” Email notes and photos to alumni@lakesideschool.org by April 14, 2025, for the 2025 Spring/Summer issue.
CLASS CONNECTIONS
Vashon Islander Takes on Monsanto
FOR VASHON ISLANDER Laura
MacColl ’73
Wishik, this will be a summer to remember — the time her David and Goliath legal fight against a multinational corporate polluter paid off big for the city of Seattle.
Wishik, as the longtime director of the environmental law section of the Seattle City Attorney’s office, was the city’s lead attorney in its eight-year battle to hold the chemical giant Monsanto responsible for decades of harm caused by its products. Late last month, Seattle City Attorney Ann Davison announced the conclusion of that fight: Seattle was awarded the largest-ever single-city settlement from Monsanto — $160 million in exchange for the release of the city’s claims against the manufacturer’s role in polluting city stormwater and the Lower Duwamish with highly toxic PCBs. The city’s settlement eclipsed Washington state’s 2020 settlement with Monsanto for $95 million to address harm caused by PCBs. At that time, the state hailed the settlement as Washington’s largest independent environmental recovery against a single entity.
As word spread on Vashon about Wishik’s involvement in the huge settlement, some islanders have recalled her service in local capacities — as a past school board member, Vashon Park District board member, parish council member at St. John Vianney Church, and as the former president of the Vashon-Maury Island Land Trust in the late 1990s — a pivotal time when the land trust acquired two of its most prized properties, the Shinglemill Creek Preserve and the 90-acre Fisher Pond nature preserve.
Wishik’s legal expertise and steady leadership greatly helped the land trust acquire those holdings, said Dave Warren, who was director of the land trust during those formative years.
“She’s a fighter and a very smart person,” said Warren.
For Wishik, the effort to hold Monsanto accountable began in 2016, when Baron & Budd, a law firm headquartered in Dallas, approached the City Attorney’s Office, seeking to represent Seattle and other municipalities in a lawsuit against the chemical company Baron & Budd’s pitch to the city, Wishik said, focused on the contamination of the Lower Duwamish — an issue she had worked on since 1990, when she was hired by the city.
Early on, when Monsanto sought to dismiss Seattle’s
Seattle attorney Laura MacColl ’73 Wishik led an eight-year effort to hold Monsanto accountable for polluting the city’s stormwater and Lower Duwamish River.
claims, Wishik rewrote what she called Baron & Budd’s “lousy brief” in the case, weaving in her much deeper understanding of the facts and law. She then argued the case herself before U.S. District Judge Robert S. Lasnik of the Western District of Washington, who dismissed Monsanto’s claims after hearing her oral argument. Wishik’s work at that time firmly established that state law in the case would be difficult for Monsanto to legally overcome.
Her deposition in 2021 by Monsanto’s attorneys — hired from five highly paid firms across the country — lasted a grueling six days, with Wishik being questioned by different attorneys every couple of hours. “I don’t think it worked, but it was definitely done to keep me off balance,” Wishik said, with a laugh. The result of all of Wishik’s work, according to former City Attorney Pete Holmes, showed the power of one person.
“When it comes down to a single lawyer, it was a difference between a paltry sum and the largest sum awarded to a municipality — $160 million — and that’s Laura,” Holmes said. “She is a great litigator and a great legal mind. This is the capstone to her career.”
She could have made much more money as a corporate lawyer, Wishik admitted, but she decided long ago that wasn’t something she wanted to do.
“I wanted to be on the white hat side of environmental law,” she said.
— Excerpted from “She Persisted” by Elizabeth Shepherd, Vashon-Maury Island Beachcomber, Aug. 15, 2024. For full article: vashonbeachcomber.com/news/she-persisted-islander-takes-on-monsanto/
continued from page 47
ilies, educators, and employees through our new company, Impactful Group Inc. It’s pretty funny — I used to go to Cannes or Sundance, and now I’m presenting at the National Alliance on Mental Illness, mental health summits, and health care industry forums. I’m on a mission to rebrand mental health. I’m grateful to be headquartered in Seattle, though I’m rarely home. My favorite pastime is hanging with my family and Lakeside friends from 45-plus years ago — oh, and making music playlists!”
1981
John Powell, John Sharp, and Mark Sherman filed this joint report on their summer vacation: “In January, we secured a reservation to thru hike the John Muir Trail (JMT) northbound from a trailhead 30 miles south of Mount Whitney to Happy Isles in Yosemite Valley, the northern end of the trail. The Pacific Crest Trail Association describes the route this way:
‘The John Muir Trail passes through what many backpackers say is the finest mountain scenery in the United States. This is a land of 13,000- and 14,000-foot peaks, of lakes in the thousands, and of canyons and granite cliffs. The John Muir Trail is also a land blessed
with the mildest, sunniest climate of any major mountain range in the world. Winding through the famed Sierra Nevada, the JMT visits some of the crown jewels of America’s park system: Yosemite, John Muir and Ansel Adams Wildernesses, Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks. The John Muir Trail section of the Pacific Crest National Scenic Trail will mark you forever.’
“On July 19, we flew from Seattle to Reno with our ‘Trail Angel,’ Kirsten (Kirky) Sharp [’85], and drove south to Lone Pine, California. The next morning, Kirky shuttled us steeply up to the Cottonwood Pass trailhead, elevation 9,950 feet. Notwithstanding our combined age of 183, we felt prepared and reasonably spry.
“Over the course of 22 days we ascended and descended 13 mountain passes, gaining almost 46,000 feet and descending over 52,000 feet in the process. In total, we hiked 265 miles, with our longest day being about 18 miles. Highlights included summiting Mount Whitney; descending from the highest pass (Forester) in a wild hail and thunderstorm; golden sunsets and crisp mornings; jaw-dropping alpine lakes and granite peaks; plentiful wildlife, including one bear up close; meeting like-minded and interesting folks from
all over the world; and checking off a bucket-list journey with good old friends. Somewhat to our surprise, we stayed on schedule and healthy (no rolled ankles, twisted knees, or face plants on the rocky trail), had nearly perfect weather, saw no wildfire smoke, and were hardly bothered by insects. As a group, we lost over 40 pounds despite carefully planning our caloric intake. By the end, we agreed that three weeks is a long time to be gone and on trail, but we wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. The JMT did indeed mark us forever.
1986
Nicholas Straley was recently sworn in as a judge in the King County Court. He was nominated by the governor, and his investiture was on April 18. Several classmates attended, including Sara Higgins, Cameron Ragen, Michael O’Brien, and Titia Van der Meulen Quinton, who came from Portland for the ceremony. Nicholas’s brother, Benjamin Straley ’89, was also in attendance.
1989
See 1986 note about Benjamin Straley.
1990
In April, Rafael Stone signed a multiyear extension as general manager of the National Basketball Association’s Houston Rockets. Houston’s 41 wins last year represented an increase of 19 wins over the 2022-2023 season.
CLASS CONNECTIONS
1994
Attorney Amy Zubko recently took a new job as director of the Oregon Law Commission. For the past 17 years, Amy has gone traveled to Arizona with classmates Amy Finkel, Lee Clifford, Shannon Fitzgerald, and Katherine Steuart Overton.
1998
Wes Irwin shares, “My daughter and I just finished our second book in the new Adventures of Aleia & Her Dad children’s book series. Aleia is now a 7-year-old co-author!”
2001
Tommy Wallach’s TV show about JonBenet Ramsey is in production with Paramount+. His immersive theater/escape room company, Hatch Escapes, is making news with “The Ladder,” a replayable experience featuring major Hollywood talent. In November, “The Ladder” was awarded a 2025 THEA (Themed Entertainment Award) alongside the Sphere in Las Vegas, two Disney theme parks, and the Paris Olympics Opening Ceremony.
2006
In September, Lakeside Middle School drama teacher Jenny Estill delivered baby Malcolm James Estill into the world. Classmate and colleague Ellie Freedman became a new mom, as well. Ellie’s son, Emerson Jin Nok Stingle, was born in June.
2007
Last spring, Nate Benjamin and his wife, Kristen Benjamin, welcomed their first son, Carter.
Tommy Wallach ’01 plays the “Bossy Kong” portion of his award-winning, immersive, interactive 90-minute-movie-with-puzzles about corporate life in America, “The Ladder.”
2008
Over the summer, Alejandro Luna-Juliano and his wife Alice Xaysanasongkham welcomed their first daughter, Viola.
2009
Lakesiders have long held a deep passion
Below: Viola (Luna-Juliano).
Right: Carter (Benjamin). Welcome new Lakeside babies, all!
for public citizenship and, for two, the friends they made along the way happened to reunite them in, of all places, Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan. After Lakeside, Mark Jahnke ’09 and Emily Tenenbom ’10 both worked overseas in global health and development and went on to study together in the MPA program at the Princeton School of Public and International Affairs, graduating in ’20 and ’21, respectively. When two of their best friends from Princeton got engaged, both immediately blocked off several weeks so they could make the most out of the long journey. While Mark was busy getting custom blazers made out of handmade Uzbek ikat silk in Osh, Kyrgyzstan (where he’d served as a Peace Corps volunteer for two years), Emily was motorbiking across some of the most remote and spectacular roads of the country, eventually reaching the stunning mountain pastures around Song Kul, the spectacular high alpine lake that is the crown jewel of Kyrgyzstan’s unbelievable landscapes. After the wedding, the two
joined forces with several other friends to attend the fifth World Nomad Games in Astana, Kazakhstan, an international multisport competition similar to the Olympics that celebrates the traditional games and sports of the nomadic peoples of the world.
2010
Emma Brillhart and her husband, Kyle Whalen, welcomed their first child, Stella Whalen, in April 2024. Stella is also the first grandchild of Lee Brillhart ’75 and Kimberlee Porter ’78 Brillhart. See 2009 note about Emily Tenenbom
2011
On Sept. 28, Sophie Revere and Mitchell Weeks were married aboard the MV Skansonia in Seattle. The photo on page 54 shows all the Lions in attendance, including Mitch’s father, Tom Weeks ’74, and Sophie’s mother, longtime Lakeside track and cross-country coach Sally Sterne ‘79 Revere.
Continued on page 54
Our Olympians
Standing in front of the Olympic rings at NBC headquarters in Stamford, Connecticut, is broadcaster Tony Simeone ’07, play-by-play voice of the women’s field hockey events in the Paris games.
THE 2024 OLYMPIC GAMES in Paris in July shined an international spotlight on two Lakesiders. Mike Callahan — a former Lakeside crew coach and currently head coach of the men’s rowing program at the University of Washington — coached the U.S men’s eight to an unexpected bronze medal. Tony Simeone ’07 served as NBC play-by-play announcer for the women’s field hockey events. Simeone has previously announced college hockey games for NBC Sports Network, men’s and women’s college basketball games on ACC Network Extra, and Notre Dame football and women’s basketball on radio.
A Lakeside Hall of Fame
Dan Ayrault, former Lakeside head of school, won a gold medal rowing in a coxed pair in 1956. During the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome, he earned a gold medal in coxless four.
Ed Ferry ‘59 is the only Lakeside alum to win a gold medal — for rowing in the 1964 men's coxed pair.
Gary Wright ’65, a rower from Princeton, finished fifth in the men’s coxless four at the 1968 games. Wright’s coxed four during his senior year at Lakeside won a national championship.
Duncan Atwood ’73 qualified as a javelin thrower for the boycotted 1980 team, then finished 11th four years later at the 1984 games in Los Angeles.
John Biglow ’76, also competing in Los Angeles in 1984, placed fourth rowing in a single scull.
Tom Hull ’77 qualified for the Olympic rowing team in the boycotted year of 1980.
Mary McCagg-Larin ‘85 and Elizabeth McCagg ‘85 Hills, twins, made five Olympic appearances between them. They were members of the women’s eights that finished sixth in the 1992 games in Barcelona and fourth in Atlanta in 1996. Betsy also competed in the 2000 games in Sydney, Australia.
Lianne Bennion ’91 Nelson stroked the silver-medal-winning women’s eight in the 2004 Olympics in Athens.
Paul Rothrock’s Homecoming
ON A TUESDAY MORNING in mid-October, with the president of FIFA looking on, surveying the Seattle Sounders’ brand new $68 million training facility in Renton, the Sounders first team prepared for its final game of the Major League Soccer regular season. Among them, Paul Rothrock ’17 moved comfortably in a crowd of MLS Cup winners and players he had looked up to since childhood. Just 5 feet 9 inches, not heavily recruited out of high school, taken 64th in the 2021 Major League Soccer draft, Rothrock’s presence in the Sounders’ starting lineup was anything but expected. His path here had been anything but linear.
He was first involved with the Sounders while a senior at Lakeside, playing for a year in the organization’s development academy and having brief stints with the Sounders’ feeder team, the Tacoma Defiance. He committed to playing soccer at Notre Dame in 2017, but transferred after two seasons to Georgetown, where he helped the Hoyas capture their first national soccer title. Coming out of college, he was drafted into the MLS by Toronto FC, but after short stretches with their second and first teams, he returned to his boyhood club in August of 2023. Living back at home on Capitol Hill, even as he worked harder, he began questioning this path he was on.
Rothrock broke into the Sounders starting lineup less than three months ago — and has become a regular on the scoresheet since then. When asked about this recent form, he says the foundation of his success in college and professional soccer lies in his habits. Connecting back to his time at Lakeside, he recalls that as a teenager, perhaps his habits “weren’t the best,” but his experiences from that time helped shape him into the diligent person he is today.
Quite vividly, he retells a story from the spring of his freshman year, when he was representing Lakeside on the soccer field. “I was kind of feeling like a cocky 14-year-old,” he says with a cheeky grin, recalling the time he was supposed to get his first varsity minutes for the Lions. After Rothrock was called up to be subbed in, coach Mark Szabo sat him back on the bench almost immediately. The reason? Rothrock wasn’t wearing a penny, which signifies a player is not in the game.
Though he did get into the game later
and would go on to lead Lakeside to three Metro League championships in the years to come, he still uses embarrassing memories like that one to remind him of the importance of details even in his professional career.
To him, mental details are everything. Describing soccer as “very cerebral,” Rothrock has been known to talk about the game as a chess match. Blending tactics from other sports, he says that playing JV basketball at Lakeside helped him visualize the two- and three-man passing combinations he uses on the soccer pitch.
Off the pitch, Rothrock says he is grateful that he has a degree to fall back on. He enjoyed the academic atmosphere at Lakeside and Georgetown. He graduated from Georgetown in 2021, with a bachelor’s in economics. It had always
been a goal for Rothrock and his family for him to get a college education — though he found it difficult when it came to balancing soccer and school. At least until he learned a lesson from his coach at Georgetown, Brian Wiese. The message that made a difference: If you have a bad practice or game, bounce back in the classroom. If you did poorly on a test or project, bounce back on the field.
With the playoffs looming out beyond this mid-October week, Rothrock says his goal for the team is to win the MLS Cup. And, as he continues his surprising performance (he scored three goals in the past five games at the time of this interview), he hopes to add his own mark on the team’s playoff run. Likely starting in the most crucial games of the year, he will do so without having to worry about whether his penny is on or not.
— Connor D. ’27
CLASS CONNECTIONS
continued from page 51
See 1966 note about Peter Augusciak.
2015
Abrahm DeVine writes, “I’m excited to share that I will be starring in a film about my career as one of the few and one of fastest openly gay swimmers in history. This is a story first and foremost about a lifelong love I’ve had for sport and cultivating a connection with the water that only comes with
20 years of extreme dedication and care. It is also about my queer identity clashing with this passion. We are calling the film #OutInTheVortex.”
2018
Olga Cherepakhin graduated from University of Washinton Medical School in May 2024. She will be specializing in dermatology and training at Harvard/Massachusetts General Brigham and New York University.
2019
Just before graduating from Middlebury College last spring, Peyton Mader completed a nearly yearlong documentary project exploring the past, present, and future of Middlebury’s historic Town Hall Theater. See: youtube.com/watch?v=IsO2eh3T_xc
2021
Golfer Kevin Hollomon claimed the title of 2024 Seattle Amateur Champion after a two-
playoff. Facing past champion Peter
2023
TikTok and Instagram influencer Jon Purcell (@jonpurcell, see 2024 Spring/Summer issue) found himself in Canmore, Alberta, Canada, during the fall’s unusually powerful solar storm. Above: see two of his photos of the dazzling night sky taken on Oct. 9, 2024.
The Artist
YEARS AFTER Ella Scudder-Davis ’17 fell in love with pottery at Lakeside under the tutelage of Jodi Rockwell and Jacob Foran, she now passes on her own knowledge of figure sculpture at Pottery Northwest, a classroom and studio space in Pioneer Square. She began teaching to engage more with the ceramics community during COVID-19. “It was really special to see people gain confidence in their bodies and minds through improving muscle memory and creativity,” she says. In her own art, she works on integrating emotion and expression into realistic self-portraiture. Scudder-Davis describes her process as a “conversation with the clay”— to speak on an equal level instead of expecting the material to conform. She adheres to the same philosophy while teaching, acknowledging the volatile nature of clay while empowering her students to learn without judgment. To ScudderDavis — who was recently hired as Lakeside’s summer school operations manager — pottery is an extension of each individual body. “We’re all working with different hands, creating different marks, and using different tools,” she ob serves. “We shouldn’t be expecting perfection, but reflection.”
artist and teacher Ella ScudderDavis ’17 experiments with self-portraiture in her studio space at Pottery Northwest. Shown here are examples of differing form, technique, and glazing treatments. Scudder-Davis recently joined Lakeside’s full-time staff as manager of our summer school operations.
ST. NICHOLAS ALUMNAE
JoAnn Isaacson '46 Fray • July 22, 2024
JoAnn was born in Seattle, Washington on July 16, 1928, to Martha Lindberg and Henry C. Isaacson, Sr. at Swedish Hospital, of which her grandfather John Isaacson Sr. was one of the founders. She attended St. Nicholas School, where she was president of the student body.
At the University of Washington, JoAnn was affiliated with the Delta Gamma sorority. After two years, she transferred to the Toby Coburn School in New York City where she majored in fashion merchandising.
With great attentiveness, she raised five children. Not only did she assure that they could attend the best schools and universities, she exposed them to sports such as tennis and skiing, which she herself enjoyed. They spent the summers at the family's compound on Orcas Island and at Four Winds and Westward Ho Camp, where they learned to sail, canoe, and ride horses.
After Seattle, JoAnn lived in Germany, La Jolla, Mexico, London, and Paris. When questioned by a friend why she moved around so much, she responded "it was her Viking blood that inspired her to look and learn." In the course of her travels, she met presidents and royals and wined and dined with them. She lived in San Francisco for the last twenty-five years of her life.
Throughout her life, JoAnn studied fine arts and architectural interiors. She was instrumental in the design and construction of her own home that were directly inspired by the beauty she saw. For this reason, she took her children, even from a young age, to museums in the USA and abroad in the belief this was the ideal way to pass on to them what she had learned.
A winner of numerous awards in flower arrangements, JoAnn was a member of the Seattle Garden Club. She was tapped to become a flower show judge. Later, she became an honorary lifetime member of the Garden Club of America. She served on the Committee to Help Redecorate the Governor's Mansion in Olympia Washington.
In Seattle, JoAnn belonged to the Junior League, the Tennis Club, and the Sunset Club. In San Francisco, she belonged to the French Historical Society and the Metropolitan Club; in La Jolla, the La Jolla Beach and Tennis Club; in New York, the Colony Club. She served on several boards: Four Winds Camp, the Seattle Opera, Mission Bay Rowing, the Parents' Board of Bishop's School, and the La Jolla Museum of Contemporary Art. With her parents, JoAnn was a major donor to the Center for Urban Horticulture at the University of Washington and the Seattle Art Museum.
JoAnn is survived by her five children and five grandchildren.
Anne Holmes ’48 McKay • April 2, 2024
Anne passed away peacefully at 92 years old after a long and courageous battle with Alzheimer’s disease. She was born May 5, 1931 to William Kirby Holmes and Edith Anne Allen. Anne grew up in Hillsborough, California, before moving with her family to Seattle’s Washington Park neighborhood during WWII. She graduated from St. Nicholas School in 1948 and Stanford University in 1952.
Anne worked for the iconic Frederick & Nelson department store as an assistant buyer and then for the Boeing Company before marrying Donald T. McKay ’45 in 1956. Anne and Don raised three children.
Although Anne probably wouldn’t have said it in this way, volunteering was her life’s work. Anne volunteered for dozens of charitable organizations. She also spent countless hours supporting and volunteering at her children’s activities and at their schools. Anne was very involved with the Lakeside School Mothers Club, through which she was chair of the annual Lakeside School Rummage Sale in 1978 and the Lakeside Cookbook in 1979. Anne was also a long-time volunteer for Medina’s St. Thomas Church Altar Guild and Vestry and, later, at Bainbridge Island’s Grace Church. Anne loved participating in book clubs, crafting groups, and living in the communities of Seattle, Medina and Indianola. After Don retired, they traveled extensively to different parts of the world. Family visits, walking on the beach, and watching her grandchildren hold back the incoming tide with their sandcastles were her greatest joys later in life.
Anne was a member of the Seattle Tennis Club, Colonial Dames of America, Junior League of Seattle, and the Seattle Garden Club. Anne was preceded in death by Don, her husband of 63 years, and her brother Allen. She is survived by her three children Chuck ’76 (Ellen), Tom ‘79 (Yuan), Catherine ‘83 (Scott), and five grandchildren: Will, Peter (Hope), Liz, Nick, and Erin.
Barbara Bridgers 50 Dick • July 17, 2024
Barbara Bridgers Dick passed away peacefully last July, surrounded by family.
She was born in Chicago on September 7, 1933 and lived in Durham, North Carolina until the age of 12. She and her mother then moved to Seattle, where she attended St. Nicholas High School and, at the age of 16, matriculated to the University of Washington. At the age of 19, Barbara married E. Sam Dick Sr. Together, they raised four children during their twenty-year marriage. When her children were young, Barbara was a piano teacher as well as a tutor in reading, and she worked for a while in a nursing home. She was a naturally gifted pianist with an impressive ability to play well by ear.
Throughout her life, Barbara wholly dedicated herself to advocat-
IF YOU HAVE A REMEMBRANCE to share about a St. Nicholas or Lakeside alum for the next issue of Lakeside magazine, please email the alumni relations office at alumni@lakesideschool.org or call 206-368-3606. The following are reprints of paid notices or remembrances submitted by family members. All remembrances are subject to editing for length and clarity. The submission deadline for the 2025 Spring/Summer issue is April 14, 2025.
ing for and supporting those in need. She aligned herself with many philanthropic organizations: World Vision, Christian Children's Fund (now called ChildFund International), Millionair Club Charity and the Children's Appalachian Project, to name a few.
Barbara was a deeply spiritual soul. She was raised in the Episcopal tradition, but embraced all religions. In 2004, Barbara became an associate of the Episcopal Community of St. Mary, Southern Province. In doing so, she committed herself to a rule of life based on love and to a friendship with the monastic community. This was very important to Barbara and is apt because she was an extremely kind and caring person who had numerous friends from all walks of life, including her lifelong friendships with her St. Nicholas classmates and her Delta Gamma sorority sisters.
Barbara was devoted to her four children, four grandchildren, and one great grandson. Her impact on all of them was significant; she will always be remembered as a loving and tolerant person who cared deeply about making the world a kinder place. It's fun and heartwarming to remember her wonderful sense of humor. She was known for her unique expressions "Barbara-isms" such as "merciful fathers," "granny goose," "for crying in the beer," and "heavens to Murgatroyd!"
She is preceded in death by her parents, Margaret Alice Buschmann MacLachlan and Furman Anderson Bridgers, and is survived by her four children Katherine Anne Dick, E. Sam Dick Jr., Caroline Dick Gaynes and Sarah Elizabeth Dick and by her four grandchildren: Marilena Fallaris-Psyrras ’01, Taku Shiozaki, Sophie Gaynes and Chloë Gaynes; and one great-grandson: Emmanuel Fallaris-Psyrras.
A memorial service is planned for December 28, 2024. Location is to be determined. In lieu of flowers, Barbara requested that donations be made to a charity of your choice.
Constance Burns ’61 • July 20, 2024
In the early morning hours of a warm July day, Constance (Connie) Burns passed, leaving behind several years of discomfort from medical issues, including Parkinson’s disease. Connie entered this world on March 30, 1943, in Seattle. She was the beloved daughter of John and Betty Moran ‘36 Burns and the great granddaughter of Seattle’s youngest mayor, Robert Moran. She prided herself on obtaining an excellent education after early exposure in her elementary and high school years at St. Nicholas School. Connie received a bachelor’s degree in French at Wells College, spending a semester abroad at the Sorbonne to further improve her language skills. While at Wells, she was a proud member of Phi Beta Kappa. Following Wells, she went on to obtain a master’s degree in special education from Simon Fraser University. This allowed her to spend many years teaching special education in various settings throughout western Oregon and British Columbia. Connie finally realized her true calling and obtained a doctorate in counseling psychology from the University of Oregon in Eugene. This allowed her to start a small counseling practice near Campbell River, BC. Connie found the love of her life, Ray Marean, and settled into a wonderful life on Quadra Island, BC. Connie had vision difficulties throughout her life, and thanks to the Guide Dogs of
America, she found wonderful companions that helped her navigate her day-to-day life, as well as to provide her with companionship after Ray’s passing in 2009. Connie had many friends in the Campbell River area as she was active with St. Peter’s Anglican Church and attended an established book group for many years, which kept her mind sharp. Connie lived on her own for many years after Ray’s passing, but she found a wonderful community at Evergreen Seniors Home when she needed more assistance. Unfortunately, when she moved into Evergreen Seniors, she had to leave behind Kristen, her wonderful last guide dog. Her good friends, the Jennings, welcomed the dog into their home and provided the care and love she needed. Aside from her many friends and her church community, Connie leaves behind her brother John ’66 (Usha), her sister Becky ’68 (Stewart), and her youngest brother Ted ’71 (Sarah). She also leaves behind two nieces and a nephew. She was our family historian and she will be greatly missed. The family wishes to thank all the staff at Evergreen Seniors Home for their love and support.
LAKESIDE ALUMNI
Melvin Brink ’51 • March 16, 2024
Melvin Peter Brink, 91, of Enterprise, Oregon, entered into God’s kingdom on March 16, 2024. At his request, there will be no service. Melvin was born on Feb. 26, 1933 in Spokane, Washington, to the late Dr. Peter D. and Adala M. Brink. He grew up in Pomeroy, Washington, with his sister, Seate. Melvin spent many of his summers working for various farmers and ranchers in the area and learned to truly love the lifestyle. In 1951, he graduated from Lakeside, and he went on to graduate from the University of Idaho in 1955 with a degree in animal husbandry. After college, he joined the United States Air Force and served his country as a navigator. While stationed in Harlington, Texas, he met his wife of almost 68 years, Maria Louisa Garcia (Mary Lou). Together, they became parents of three children: Teresa (Darryl), Greg (Cindy), and Mike. Upon leaving the service, Melvin was determined to raise his family in the place he loved as a kid, and the family moved to the property that his father had purchased years prior in the Zumwalt Prairie. That is where his lifelong career of farming and ranching began. When his children became school age, Melvin moved his family to Enterprise, where he became involved in the Wallowa County Stockgrowers, the Enterprise School Board, Toastmasters, St. Katherine’s Catholic Church, and Shriners, to name a few. He believed in hard work and excellence. He took pride in maintaining his property for all who would drive by to admire. As a man of true integrity, a man of many stories (some factual and others not so factual), he had simple taste. Dressed in blue jeans and a button-down shirt, he focused on providing his children with the best life possible without worrying about himself. In his semiretired life, he and Mary Lou would spend winters and early spring traveling around the United States, Canada and Mexico in their motorhome, having new adventures and making new friends along the way. He always made his way home before the beginning of the hay season, which was the part of farming that he enjoyed the most. One
IN MEMORIAM
could often see Melvin on a tractor at the break of dawn raking the alfalfa before the dew moisture was lost. Melvin was truly a great man whose impact will be forever felt by his family. He was blessed with five grandchildren: Shala (Rob), Peter (Michelle), Jordan (Marlie), Alayna (Jeff), and Jenna (Zane), along with 11 great-grandchildren scattered across Hawaii, Oregon, Virginia, and Washington. His ability to sacrifice, provide, support, forgive, and love will forever be ingrained in everyone he knew.
Ed Rasmuson ’58 • Jan. 4, 2022
Third-generation Alaskan, banker and philanthropist Edward Bernard Rasmuson died at his home in Anchorage, Alaska. He succumbed to a particularly vicious brain cancer after a year of treatment. He was 81 years old. For much of his life, he was one of the most influential and generous men in Alaska.
“One of Alaska’s tallest trees has fallen,” said Rasmuson Foundation President and CEO Diane Kaplan, who was hired by Ed as the Foundation’s first employee in 1995. “Ed’s intense love of Alaska inspired a generation of board members and staff. He was a mentor in all matters Alaska and modeled how effective leaders balance work with a full and satisfying life. With Ed, you always knew where you stood. He gave the Rasmuson staff the encouragement and resources to pursue our passions, so long as the aim was to benefit Alaskans.”
Ed was born August 27, 1940, in Houston, Texas, to his Alaska-born father, Elmer E. Rasmuson, and Lile Vivian (Bernard) Rasmuson.
Reared during Alaska’s territorial days, he matured during the heady “go-go years” of statehood, the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act, and pipeline construction. Ed spent his youth discovering the state’s wilderness through flying, hunting and fishing, which sealed his love of the state, its people and its culture. He attended Anchorage High School, now known as West Anchorage High School, and graduated from Lakeside before heading to the East Coast to earn a degree in history from Harvard.
He became a lifelong advocate for education. Over the course of 30 years, Ed moved through the ranks of the family business — the National Bank of Alaska — starting out as a teller, becoming a branch manager in Southeast Alaska, and ultimately leading the organization as chairman of the board.
In July 2000, Ed orchestrated the sale of the National Bank of Alaska to Wells Fargo. When his father died that December, the bulk of the estate was given not to the family, but instead to the Rasmuson Foundation, the family foundation created by his father and grandmother in 1955. It was the first time that a fortune made in Alaska stayed in Alaska, something in which Ed was a firm believer. The sale of the family bank fueled the Foundation’s dramatic growth in assets — and giving. Over the next 20 years, chairman Ed steered a rapidly evolving philanthropic organization, making it the largest private funder in Alaska. Ed liked to say the Foundation gives away,
on average, half a million dollars a week all over the state. He wanted Alaska nonprofits to know “we’ve got their backs.”
He always pushed for new and better ways to improve life for all Alaskans. He initiated efforts in Anchorage to develop world-class parks and trails, expand the Anchorage Museum, and end homelessness. Under his leadership, the Foundation invested early in the Alaska Native Science & Engineering Program and the now nationally recognized Dental Health Aide Therapist Program, and it helped create Pick.Click.Give. to provide a path for all Alaskans to give. He helped communities across the state launch their own local grantmaking funds and visited with dozens of civic groups to promote Plan for Alaska, which engaged Alaskans in creating a sound fiscal future. Since 1955, Rasmuson Foundation has provided more than $475 million in charitable donations to benefit Alaska and for regional and national projects.
Ed’s community service included the University of Alaska Board of Regents, the Anchorage Museum Foundation board, Atwood Foundation board, Rotary Club of Anchorage (with three decades of perfect attendance), Elks Club, Pioneers of Alaska, Explorer’s Club, UAF Fisheries Research Center advisory board, United Way of Anchorage, and The Foraker Group.
So, how does one sum up such a life? List every goal he ever conquered? Every award he ever received? Don’t bother. Collecting plaques and statues was not his focus. His role, he told his family, is to make sure the generations that include the children and grandchildren maintain the Foundation’s philosophy of giving. He believed the Rasmuson name would endure through the Foundation’s good works.
Stephen A. Ekholm ’68 • July 13, 2024
Stephen A. Ekholm died peacefully at his home on Bainbridge Island after a decades-long battle with multiple sclerosis.
After graduating from Lakeside, Stephen went on to the University of Washington to get his bachelor’s degree. Later, he also received a masters of divinity and a PhD in ministry from Andover Newton Theological School. He was a senior pastor for a number of years in New Hampshire, Maine, Massachusetts and Texas, and he was a li-
censed marriage and family therapist for most of his career. Stephen is survived by his wife, two sons, and one grandson.
Chuck Millington ’65 • Sept. 1, 2024
Charles “Chuck” W Millington, DDS, of Edmonds, Washington, died at Swedish Hospital at the age of 77. He succumbed to a cardiac arrest while walking Toby, his bearded collie and close confidante. He was born in Washington, D.C, and spent the majority of his life in Seattle. Chuck was rightfully proud of his lengthy career in dentistry. He was passionate about the environment and loved nothing more than escaping the city and experiencing nature.
Some people thought of Chuck as a “boy scout.” He believed in doing what was right regardless of the situation.
Though quiet, he had a huge influence on those he loved and will be remembered by many. He is survived by his wife Charlie, his daughters Marnie Millington ’84 and Mikki Millington ‘91 Burns, his sister Penny Millington ‘59 Byrd, sons-in-law Bill and Jonathan, granddaughters Zoe and Lucy, and an extensive amount of outdoor gear.
FACULTY AND STAFF
An Tran • July 14, 2024
An Thi Tran died peacefully at home due to complications from cancer. An was born on August 21, 1981, in Santa Ana, California, and grew up in nearby Irvine. Her childhood was marked by the arrival of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, whom her parents sponsored to bring to the United States after fleeing Vietnam in the 1970s. She studied adolescent development at Stanford University, served in the Americorps VISTA program for two years and pursued a career in fundraising for K-12 and higher education in Silicon Valley and Seattle, making a positive difference in the lives of students.
An moved to Seattle in 2007 and worked at Lakeside for several years, where she managed the annual fund, which supported (among other things) student financial aid. She developed close bonds with her colleagues there and supervised Orienteering Club, through which she got to know many students. In supervising the club, An got hooked on orienteering as a hobby, and later enjoyed it with her children. An continued to pursue her career at University Prep before moving to higher education, first at Seattle Pacific University and then at the University of Washington, where she held roles on the regional advancement team as well as at UW Medicine supporting the ophthalmology department.
An was a mother to three kids. She loved them fiercely and unconditionally.
An will be remembered professionally for her diligence, commitment, and creativity. She will be remembered personally for her generosity of spirit, desire for justice, and deep love for her family.
An is preceded in death by her father, Hop Tran. She is survived by her mother, Joan (Nguyen) Tran of Tustin, California; siblings Vi Tran, Kim Tran and Vince Tran; husband, Jeffrey Churchill; children Elizabeth, John and Marian Churchill of Kirkland, Washington; and many aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews. In lieu of flowers, An’s family encourages donations to Global Refuge, to help a new generation of refugees make a home in the United States, or to organizations that support K-12 education.
2024-2025 Board of Trustees
❚ Sean O'Donnell ’90 Chair
❚ JoAnna Black Vice Chair
❚ Mark Klebanoff ’80 Treasurer
❚ Charlotte Guyman Secretary
❚ Artemios “Tim” Panos ’85 Immediate Past Chair
❚ Bridgette M. Taylor At Large
❚ Nate Benjamin ’07 President, Alum Association
❚ Dr. Sarah Barton
❚ Michelle S. Chen ’90
❚ David de la Fuente
❚ Lloyd Frink ’83
❚ Michael Nachbar
❚ Gurdeep Pall
❚ Eduardo Peñalver
❚ Latosha Smith President, Parents and Guardians Association
❚ Keith Traverse
❚ Brandon C. Vaughan ’06
❚ David M. Victor
❚ Merrie Williamson
January 10 Recent Grad Night Out (2020-2024)
22 Bay Area Reception
23 Los Angeles Area Reception
29 Mark J. Bebie ’70 Memorial Lecture: Nic Stone
February 13 T.J. Vassar ’68 Alumni Celebration
March 12 Dan Ayrault Memorial Lecture: Melba Ayco 27 Boston Area Reception 28 New York Area Reception
April 2-3 Lakeside Fund Day 3 Seattle Area Reception
May
2 Life After Lakeside (Panels)
June
5 50th Reunion Reception/Class of 1975
6 Reunion: Classes ending in 0s and 5s 10 Commencement
14050 1st Avenue NE
Seattle, WA 98125-3099
lakesideschool.org