The MArk February 2011 by The Mark

FEBRUARY 2011

Executive Editor Rachel Fox

Managing Editor Haley McCabe

Art Editor

Sofia Gutierrez-Dewar

Layout Editors Blair Johnson Anna Luke Stephanie Sabatini

Resident Artist Maria Ikonomou

Staff

Anna Argente Sasha Bobrowicz Gaby Busque Max Goldenstien Russell Gurman Nicky Hug Caitlin Kenney Tevita Langi Jeff LaPlante Bridget MagaĂąa Suzie McMurtry Jason Mouchawar Laurin Noguchi Lindsey Sepulveda Lauren Smith Roger Upton Alyssa Westfield Ryan Wentz Philip Witham

Financial Officer Helen Burke

Photo Editors Prescott Foland Emily Johnson Keara Haldeman

Photo Contributors JP Nash Naomi Pacalin

Brooke Delly Mao Mei Sonkin Nathaniel Skinner

The MArk, a feature magazine published by the students in Menlo-Atherton High Schoolâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Journalism class, is an open forum for student expression and the discussion of issues of concern to its readership. The MArk is distributed to its readers and the student body at no cost. The staff welcomes letters to the editor but reserves the right to edit all submissions for length, grammar, potential libel, invasion of privacy and obscenity. Send all letters to themamark2011@gmail.com

COVER ART Shayda Abadi 2

CONTENTS ART

5.00 06 Ann’s Coffee Shop 10 Free Food Goes Far 12 Great Places to Snowboard 26 Menlo-Atherton Thespians 34 Growing Up

CREATIVE WRITING

18.00 30 Senior Bucket List 07 Bell Schedule Comic 40 Music Suggestions 41 High Mark- Low Mark

05 Robot Totem Pole 09 Playing with Light 19 Continuous Faces 23 Floating 24 Color Wheel 33 Cityscape Painting

FEATURES

6.00

18 Sally 16 Zombie Plan 20 Because I Feel 32 A Modern Storm 42 That’s Not Water You’re Standing In

JUST FOR FUN

30.00

PHOTOGRAPHY Suzie McMurty

PHOTOGRAPHY Stan Kuboi

by Suzie McMurtry

Ann’s Coffee Shop: I’ll Have the Usual

walk in and lower the average age by about 40 years. The man with the red suspenders and beard is here again, having coffee, like nearly everyone else. I would like to think he sits in the same place he always does. On the wall there are some newspaper clippings from 1985; The Palo Alto Weekly says, “Ann’s: Where Familiarity Breeds Content”, and “Ann’s: A Slice of Pie, A Slice of Life”. This describes the nostalgia of Ann’s perfectly. When you walk in, you hear the low hum of the old fridge, some friendly conversation, and spoons hitting the insides of cups. There are a lot of regulars. Isela, an employee of four months, says that people she sees routinely always “think that I know what they want”, but she has yet to memorize these frequenters’ orders. Isela says that Ann’s coffee shop only has two cooks. These guys pump out plate after plate of hash browns and eggs from opening to closing. Saturday is the busiest day. There are lines out the door containing different aged locals; as Ann’s has evolved into a tradition for some Menlo Park families. But this family friendly breakfast and coffee shop has become more than the franchise you would expect from such a description. Unlike

Stacks, just a couple blocks down, Ann’s is truly a Menlo Park “restaurant”. In 1946 when Ann’s was built, World War II had just ended, Vietnam was still a French colony, Frank Sinatra’s “The Coffee Song” was #6 on the charts, and downtown Menlo Park was a vast orchard. Times have changed and the apple-growers of Menlo Park, California are nearly forgotten. Ann’s is one of the only remaining businesses that makes the relatives of the oldest local families feel comforted by this time capsule of a restaurant. As of 2008, Nikki and her son George own Ann’s. Nikki says “they call [her] Ann”. Nikki is Greek, and she was indescribably kind when I asked her why she kept it the same. She already knew that the regulars wouldn’t put up with a change, so she dared not change anything major. But as “going green” was and is the trend, Nikki decided to just switch from standard bulbs to energy-efficient ones in the light fixtures. But even this was an outrage to the regulars, and she had to go back to the old bulbs. The food at Ann’s is known by Menlo Park teenagers for its hangover curing abilites, its stupendous hash browns, and the old-timey charisma it hosts. It’s our portal to the past.

Bell Schedule: 2009-2010

Bell Schedule: 2010-2011

Bell Schedule: 2010-2011 (+ 0 Period)

CARTOON Max Goldenstein

CAR BATTERY 7

L GHTS L GHTS L G

PHOTOGRAPHY (Clockwise from top left): Rachel Fox, Digital Photography I,

GHTS L GHTS L GHTS

Brooke Delly, Charlotte McMillan, Prescott Foland, Rachel Fox, Rachel Fox, Prescott Foland

Free Food Goes Far

t’s 12:50 p.m. on a Monday afternoon and you walk out to meet up with your friends at your usual lunch spot, by the benches. You open your crisp paper bag lunch to find two slices of a sandwich, a bag of chips, pretzels, cherries, a yogurt container, and some sugar-filled box of juice. This may be normal for you, but not normal for a hefty portion of the school. A quarter of Menlo-Atherton High School’s students do not have their mothers pack a buffet of packaged goods in a brown sack with a cute little message saying “have a nice day,” but rather,

by Max Goldenstein have their meals provided to them by means of the school. The Food Subsidies Program – a program that only a handful of students and those who belong to it know about – is one of MenloAtherton’s many systems to fight against “Food Insecurity.” For those who didn’t come to face the phrase “Food Insecurity” after the canned food drive, being “Food Insecure” means that you do not know when or what your next meal will be. But, as mentioned before, most people do not even know this program even exists. When asked about the program, M-A student, Clark Moore, stated “I did not know that.” So, in an attempt to learn as

much as I could about the Food Subsidies Program, I the designated ranges, the application will be denied. went to Student Services Specialist, Miki Cristerna. Even outside the whole application process, Upon being warmly greeted by Ms. Cristerna, smaller problems seem to appear within the program. or “Miki” as she soon corrected me, we sat down in her The food distributors occasionally run out of food office surrounded by students socializing altogether, leaving these students “I and eating lunch without their obligated put out the same fruit together. She began meal. Presentation that the program offers... and yet only informing me about the of the food has also program, stating that it come under question. my fruit gets eaten.” was an application process “I put out the same fruit that was based on a family’s that the program offers,” income. The income, depending says Miki, “and yet only my on how much made per year, will get fruit gets eaten. Lacking a plastic packaging you one of two things: a reduced price and a distasteful look really makes a difference.” on meals or two free meals (*If more interested on the incomes, check the “Food Service Press Release” But this program is not about statistics or that can be found on the Sequoia Union High School school funding, it is about the students and their District website). The reduced price meals consist of health. So, I while I sat in Miki’s room obtaining a $.30 breakfast and a $.40 lunch. On the other hand, information, I got some the student’s perspectives. when part of the free meal program, a student can “It isn’t awkward because everyone I know is part of pick two of three meals: breakfast, brunch, or lunch. the program,” says a student sitting in the office. And this point of view remains constant amongst many of Outside of getting free or reduced food, other the other office. Miki told me, “It really seems to be a benefits can be given to the program’s students. For stigma from the adults that the example, if a student students feel embarrassed “Everyone I know is part of holds onto the letter by the program.” they receive in the the program” mail pertaining to So now it was the Food Subsidies my turn. I figured I Program they may also might as well get a feel for receive a free bus pass. The the application process by school also receives more trying to fill out a form myself. funding due to this extremely beneficial program. I went on the internet to print off an application (but they can also be found at any of the “Speedway” But there are setbacks. food stands) and as soon as I stared at it, I was lost. The page is filled with minuscule boxes that both This program still requires an application – harm and confuse the mind. And not only was that meaning there is still the possibility of being denied; and overwhelming, but knowing that this form could be according to Miki, there are multiple ways to be denied. denied if I forgot one piece put me under more pressure. First off, the application resembles a cryptic, geometric explosion of fill-in boxes and miniscule words. “It is a I didn’t finish it. I had no idea what I was doing. complicated form to fill out,” mentions Miki, “and having a few wrong boxes can have an application denied.” Despite popular belief, the Food Subsidies Also, the form requires a social security number. The Program tremendously affects a substantial fraction form does not say “if you do not have one, simply write of the Menlo-Atherton student body. Although ‘none’” so most newly immigrated families will leave there may be slight flaws and hiccups, it single it blank. And obviously, if the family’s income exceeds handedly keeps teenagers from food insecurity. 11

PHOTOGRAPHY Laurin Noguchi

Northst

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a r r Sie

by Stephanie Sabatini by Stephanie Sabatini 12

PO PO FAH- SHO! by Jeff LaPlante and Anna Luke

With license in hand, and pedal to the metal, you drive with their friends, the likelihood increases that the speed across Santa Cruz Avenue to pick up your friend. underage driver will take risks in order to impress their As your friend walks in, knowing very well that you friends. Lots of students find the changed law unfair, have only had your license for a couple of weeks, you and do not agree with the increasing strict attitude speed off to the movies. Well towards students. They feel the don’t miss the previews… A laws are unjust, and refuse to cop drives by, noticing the see the potential consequences. civilian breaking the law. Claire Jungleib, a follower Sirens go off with a flash of of the rule, says “It’s just not red and blue light, no choice, worth it to me. I mean I live so but to pull over. As the cop far away, that I would hate to approaches your car, you have to rely on my parents for hand over your flimsy paper rides everywhere”. license you got at the DMV. Was leaving the fate of your The responsibility is on future driving privileges in the driver, and the people who the hands of a court judge are being driven. The driver has really worth driving your to know that they are in charge of Student who got caught sneaking out with other peoples’ lives and therefore friend? (Since January people in his car past curfew: 1st, 2006, California State should make smart decisions law declares that a parent, when driving. The people who guardian or a licensed are being driven by an underage passenger over the age of 25, must accompany drivers driver should analyze the driver and make a decision based under the age of 18 who are transporting persons under on if they trust that driver’s judgment. the age of 20 for the first year of their license. Along In retrospect, we understand that with this law driving has also become prohibited the laws were put in place to between the hours of 11:00 PM and 5:00 AM for the protect young, inexperienced first twelve months of having ones license.) drivers.

“

Can you not mention we were skinny dipping?

”

Since this law has been put into place, it has become apparent that very few teenagers actually follow this rule. When asked about the topic, junior Camilla Visconti said, “I don’t follow it because I trust myself enough to know that if I am bringing other people in my car, it is my responsibility if they get hurt”. Though this may be clear to her, is it clear to her passengers? As stated in the DMV website, statistics show that the crash rate for 16-year-old drivers is 3.7 times higher than drivers of all other ages. When teenagers

Tip: When asked for his/her political views, the hipster will violently defend anything John Stewart said on TV last night.

The God-Awful Haircut “It shows how much I don’t care.” (costs more than the sweater)

The Ugly Sweater Loves talking about how no one shops at thrift stores nowadays. ($60 at American Eagle)

PBR Beer It has a “unique” taste. (new flavor: back alley puddle)

The Black Jeggings (illegal in the Midwest)

TIP: To tell the difference between a hipster and a homeless man, offer him a warm jacket. If he refuses it because its not from Urban Outfitters, he’s a hipster.

The Non-Perscription Glasses Expresses intellectuality

The Messenger Bag What’s in it: • Moleskine notebook • fingerless gloves • vinyl records • trust fund checks • more useless junk

A hipster is never seen without his/her iPod What’s on it: • I’m from Barcelona • Clap Your Hands Say Yeah • Animal Collective • Pains of Being Pure at Heart What they actually listen to: • Katy Perry • U2 • Coldplay

Tip: Hipsters love things that are ironic, like the fact that they don’t know what irony is.

The Retro Headphones “I’m an audiophile” (approximate sound quality of apple earbuds)

The Bangs 24/7

The Fixed Gear Bike Made in Holland (Holland, China)

That Stupid Mustache It’s ironic (it’s stupid) The Bottlecap Necklace Folk art is underrated (as is the efficiency of child labor)

The Scarf “I’m cold.” (it’s July)

The Polaroid Camera An artist always keeps her tools on hand (it’s empty)

His Sister’s Jean Shorts (dear god)

The Japanese Symbol for Love (Elvish for idiot) The Keds (nuff said)

philip witham

: n i a r B y M t e G They Won’t

The M-A

by Sam Sexton

Zombie Plan

Brought to you by Costco

here’s only one thing I can say I’ve learned during my time at M-A: in the event of an emergency, nobody will survive. Our fire alarm is pulled so often that in the event of an actual fire, the fire department will probably buy some kerosene to add to the blaze. Students are to walk through the F-Wing courtyard in the event of a fire, despite the copious amounts of dry, flammable foliage. And what’s with this “hide and be quiet” approach during lockdown drills? We can take on gunmen; we all saw the two self defense videos in PE! I want a hero parade! But worst of all, our school’s drill policy is so broken that we don’t even have a drill for the most horrifying disaster of all. Zombies. The Walking Dead. Twihards. Whatever you call them, it is inevitable that these brain-hungry fiends will one day rise from the grave to devour our flesh. It’s probably been proven by science and sh*t. So how can the faculty ignore the growing threat of the Zombie menace? Fortunately, as an expert in Zombology with an unhealthy need for attention, I have a plan for our school if such an unfortunate event were to occur. This drill will differ from others in that it divides the school into five groups (2000 people attract a lot of zombies) and that each group will be trying different tactics for survival, as I can’t be sure which ones will work. Teachers: Hole up in the PAC and defend against the zombie siege

This part of the plan is vital in that it is yet another use of the school’s fantastic Performing Arts Center, which already brings in literally tens of dollars every year from plays. When the zombie alarm is pulled, teachers will file into the PAC, doing everything they can to attract the zombie horde’s attention to make the siege more dramatic. And for those who claim this is “reckless”, “suicide” or “a huge over-reaction to that D- you got on that test that one time,” they’ll be fine. For $30,000,000, I’m assuming the PAC has defense turrets or battle-droids or something.

Freshmen: Take to the trees and prosper

This is the most long-term of the plans; it will guarantee the survival of the living in the event that the dead overrun Earth. Because zombies lack the ability to climb, all freshmen will climb any tree greater than seven feet in height. Even the pro-basketball level zombies will never be able to reach them. Living off of the fruit and wildlife present in trees, the Freshmen will eke out an existence similar to a lemur or ewok. Eventually they will evolve. As evolution takes several million years, it is imperative that the Freshmen (eventually Treelings) must remain in their trees even if the apocalypse seems to have ended.

Sophomores: Trek to Yosemite to fight bears

Zombies aren’t known for their intelligence. A zombie will walk off a cliff, into helicopter blades, or even near Jay Leno if it sees a human adjacent to these obstacles. So what better a place to hide than Yosemite, famed for its rugged, mountainous terrain? The journey will be the roughest part of this part of the plan; 500 Sophomores running and biking (no, you can’t drive because the world ended; we’re not criminals) across miles of zombie-infested terrain is no easy feat. But once they reach the park, safety is guaranteed. All they need to do is kill all zombies in the area, find the paths to high ground, find a way to cut Yosemite off from the outside world, defend against bear attacks, figure out which plants are safe to eat, adjust to altitude sickness, survive notoriously cold winters, and they’re all good to go.

PHOTOGRAPHY Laurin Noguchi, Mao Mei Sonkin, Prescott Foland

Juniors: Steal a boat and live a life of safety/scurvy

We’re fortunate in that we live a scant few miles from the coast. Why shouldn’t we use this to our advantage? The Juniors will travel to their local harbor and steal as many ships as possible. Operating them shouldn’t be a problem-several ships have sails for when the motor runs out, and if Captain Jack “perpetually drunk and charmingly unintelligible” Sparrow can operate a sailboat, they canand all they’ll have to do is to sail a few hundred miles into open ocean until they find an island. Those of the fleet who haven’t died of scurvy or been eaten by sea monsters will land and single-handedly kill the island’s probably-zombified population, which can’t be more than a couple thousand people.

Seniors: Take over Costco and stare oblivion in the face

Costco is the perfect store whether a zombie apocalypse is upon us or not, and I’m not just saying that because I’m paid fifty cents every time I mention Costco. Costco-bound Seniors will all head to Costco because Costco has absolutely everything one needs in the event that one needs to take shelter in a Costco when zombies have overrun everything except the Costco. Costco’s cafeteria and inventory can provide food, the Costco pharmacy has medicine, and the Costco doors can seal Costco off to zombies. Costco warehouses lack windows, so zombies can’t peer into the Costco and say “Hey! There are people in the Costco! Let’s enter the Costco to devour their flesh and marvel at Costco’s generous prices!” Sheltering in Costco has no downsides. Costco even has lots of Costco-approved merchandise Seniors can carry to the Costco roof and throw at zombies surrounding the Costco, thus providing a distraction and forever solving the problem of running out of food in a few years and rapidly dying by starvation or mass suicide. And for those who point out that the teacher’s residency in the PAC deprives students of leadership, don’t worry. In addition to the machetes, grenades, and automatic weapons everyone will receive when the apocalypse begins, each group of students will be given a conch which grants privileges of speech and leadership to its owner. With that, I implore the administration to adopt the Sexton Procedure as M-A’s official zombie plan. I can guarantee that my plan of evolution in trees, survival against the cold and bears, doomed voyages across hundreds of miles of ocean, and slowly waiting for death in a monument to commercialism will ensure that no students die because of the undead, which I believe makes this easily the best, most well organized drill in M-A history. Also, Costco owes me $11.00.

S all y

by Henry Mouat

“What do you mean ‘you have to go now’?” Tom growled. Mayhew shrugged and looked away; he didn’t like it when Tom got mad at anyone—he especially didn’t like it when Tom was mad at him. “You always leave early! And we have to keep playing with unequal teams! It’s not fair!” His face burned like an ugly welt. Looking away from him, Mayhew said softly, “I’m sorry, Tom. I’m really sorry. I can’t stay. I just have to go now, OK?” Of course it wasn’t OK, not when Tom was angry. Mayhew looked at the other boys; he could tell they were disappointed too, but they didn’t need to show it when Tom was mad. With nothing left to say, Mayhew started walking away, keeping his eyes averted from the other boys. Tom yelled something after him. He pretended not to hear. * * * There was a faded green Volvo parked neatly against the curb outside Mayhew’s house. He winced slightly when he saw it there. Mom’s working at home today, he thought. Rain drizzled down onto the grey street. He had no choice now but to go in. His hair would be wet in moments; his white school uniform would be soaked; and his tie—no, his mother could not catch him with his tie wet, no. Reluctantly, he pushed himself down the brick walkway leading to his front door. His mother didn’t hear him open the door; he crept across the mat, not bothering to take off his shoes. He heard her talking on the phone across the house; gingerly he tiptoed across the hall and snuck into his bedroom. Inside, he finally let his backpack slide to the floor. Plopped on his bed, waiting for him as always, in a sweet pink raincoat and black rubber boots, there was a girl. Her hair was a deep blue gray, like a stone at the bottom of a lake; he knew that it was blonde beneath the dye, but she liked changing it from time to time, the way she would change clothes on a Barbie doll. She was half-interestedly trying to read the Romeo and Juliet book Mayhew’s father had given him on his birthday, but he knew she understood as little of it as he did. “Hi Sally,” he said, giving a shy smile. She tossed the book away and grinned at him, showing her missing lower tooth. “I know just where to go today,” she said, her grin growing wider. His smile faltered for a moment. “Go? We can’t go, it’s raining out…” But he looked at her and had to grin himself. “Don’t be a baby; you got a coat! Now let’s go down the hill and explore the creek! I hear there are hundreds of frogs out when it rains! Let’s find one!” she said. He didn’t know how true her frog tale was or if he believed her, but she was already opening his bedroom window with her delicate, thin fingers. He didn’t know how to deny her ideas, and he never cared to anyway. By the time he had fastened his raincoat, she was already standing on the roof outside his window, overhanging the veranda. She was impatient, but he knew she wouldn’t leave him. Taking careful jumps onto the grass below, they crept into the trees behind the house. From there they began the trek down the hillside. “Did anyone see you come in?” asked Mayhew, his mind still on his mother. Sally’s eyes flashed onto him, but she said nothing. * * * Sally waited for him every day after school when Mayhew got home; she was usually outside on the veranda, but sometimes she snuck into his room instead. She stayed as long as he had time; she never left him before he did. Sally always had a place for them to go, to explore or to talk or to sit quietly together and do nothing at all. She could be feisty and impetuous, but she never cheated, never yelled, never did anything to hurt Mayhew’s feelings. She would listen to him practice his violin, and she wouldn’t laugh when he stumbled on the strings. One afternoon, they were sitting on his bedroom floor being quiet together. Her hair was now a striking strawberry hue. Unexpectedly, Mayhew asked, “Sally? Why are you my friend?” She looked at him as if he were crazy. “Because you are you, of course! Why else should I be with you?” “But why aren’t you friends with any of the others? Why don’t you ever let them see you?”’ She shook her head in disgust. “I’m here to be your friend, May. You’re the only one I wanna talk to.” This warmed Mayhew deep inside, but he tried not to let it show. To his dismay, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, coming towards his room. He glanced momentarily at Sally and walked to the door and opened it to find his father. “Just checking in on you, May,” his father said. “What have you been doing up here for so long? Do you have a friend over?” He tried looking over Mayhew’s shoulder into the room, but he saw no one. Without meeting his eyes, Mayhew whispered, “Nobody. No one’s here with me.” His father nodded and mentioned coming downstairs for lunch. Mayhew told him just one moment, then shut the door. For a little 18while, he simply looked back into his empty room.

ART Maria Ikonomou

B E C A U S E I

F E E L

This one time I went to the mall and ate a piece of grapefruit, but it was too sour so I bought a pickle knife to tone down the weird amber patches of mud that sat in front of the step stool. I opened my eyes wide and whispered, “I

have

that

same

shirt,”

but it was too late, he had gone already. I picked up a phone and began to dial the number. A loud ring told me that I had not put in the twenty-five cents that I was supposed to before dialing. I was upset and surprised. I sat on the floor and juggled for a while but that did not do the trick so I got up and walked to the grocery store. At the store I skipped over to a mint leaf and watched a passing dog. Its tail was high up in the air but it didn’t matter because I felt like going swimming, so I did. It was romantic. Nothing could stop the wall from pushing through the water; and I went to buy a balloon. The only thing was that, in the attic, there was still a heavy layer of dust that sat and lingered. It made me sneeze uncontrollably until I fell on my knees and prayed. I

pra yed 20

for a lot of things that day, especially because I had taken the top of a Hershey’s bar and put it in a box of Dots. It was not a good day, but I smiled and

painted a rainbow with chalk. My dear Aunt Penelope wished that the stars were round but they turned out triangle shaped when we made cookies. I wonder why we did not stroll to the pond, but we did not. When I ran into him again, it was night, and the little pieces of grass were straight and did not bend over. They stood alert and heard the loud sirens that were strange and far away. And as he ate chocolate mud pie, he saw that it was not a trap. He just walked over to the countertop and asked for

three more shots. It was sad to see him sitting there, whining about the irregular clouds and the candy jolly ranchers floating in his mind. We went and ate carrot stew to stop the dread and sadness from seeping in. I sang at the top of my lungs and decided that it was no longer time to radiate like a sun, but that I should instead progress forward and look up at the trees with fat trunks. Swimming did not please me, so I jogged until a wild old man came hopping toward me. But the pictures on the wall were not too bright, they just glimmered and wondered how all this came to be. It is not for me, you see. Only a catastrophe of butterflies. SHORT STORY Caroline Bucksbaum

PHOTOGRAPHY Emily Johnson

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Acci dents and

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aps

he majority of students attending Menlo-Atherton are required to take at least one lab science class during their four years. These students have undoubtedly encountered monotonous safety procedures, lab instructions, and reiteration of appropriate equipment handling. The frightening thing about these lab classes however, is that this seemingly endless array of pedantic rules and regulations isn’t just due to some pointless California education code requirement. When asked about any accidents that have occurred here at M-A, Chemistry teacher Mrs. Caryotakis commented saying, “Any science mishaps that have occurred are usually caused by students not paying attention or not thinking.” Most students would be inclined to agree. After being asked about mishaps in the classroom, Mrs. Caryotakis responded, “Beakers and test tubes always seem to be proving that gravity exists, and things that don’t look hot can still burn your skin.” After never having a major accident

occur here at M-A, the question must be asked, do the students, and even some teachers, really take these safety precautions seriously anymore? I recall my sophomore year: Mrs. Nersesian assisting my friends, rolling a tennis ball in copper chloride, lighting it on fire, and proceeding to play indoor table tennis. While this was all in good fun, it could hardly be called safe. Yet not one person seemed concerned by this fact in the least. Furthermore, Mrs. Nersesian’s chemistry classroom is not equipped with a fume hood, a device that limits exposure to harmful or toxic chemicals to students. While it is common knowledge that Mrs. Nersesian lacks this vital piece of her classroom, one has yet to be installed. The issue of lab safety has become bigger as classes become more packed in the Sequoia Union High School District. “As class sizes have gotten larger over the past few years, it is even more challenging to monitor safety,” says Caryotakis, and although no serious injuries have been reported at M-A as a result of classroom accidents, it might only be a matter of time.

by Blair Johnson

ART Maria Ikonomou

PHOTOGRAPHY Prescott Foland 25

M-A The What’s the point of having a theatre program at M-A? Ms. Zwicker-Sobrepena, M-A’s new drama teacher this year, explains that the drama department offers an important source of “creative expression” and a “good use of free time.” She continues, “the TV and internet can never replace this.” According to many participants, drama is not only a fun way to spend time, but a great way to gain a family of friends. Claire Jungleib, a junior, says “I absolutely love being a part of the M-A Drama Family. And that’s just what it is. You make such amazing friends in drama. Some of my best friends came out of doing Rimers of Eldritch sophomore year and I have countless others from Forum and Pride and Prejudice. The dynamic of drama is wonderful; you are thrown together in high pressure situations for 10-25 hours a week for three months, and you come out of that so tightly-knit as a cast. I know that if I went through that anywhere else, we would probably wind up biting each other’s heads off. I love our traditions in the department. We dance to the song “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet before every performance, shout ridiculous tonguetwisters, take part in the matinee prank show, and pump our selves up by singing along to musical soundtracks in the dressing rooms.” She has been in 21 total productions, three of which have been at M-A. “Drama at M-A means so much to me. I couldn’t live without the friends I’ve made. I think I’d even miss all the stress and tension of rehearsal because in the end, venting about it to other cast members is quite a bonding topic.” Maddie Napel, a sophomore, says M-A drama is “Profound. An enlightening spiritual experience with guided meditation courtesy of Michael Farzi. Fun with impromptu musical sing-a-longs and lollipops.” She has been in three plays at M-A. But what theatre at M-A really means to her is “having a family. My castmates are the brothers and sisters that I don’t have at home. Ali Candlin is my second mom.” Michael Farzi, a senior, says “M-A drama is an extraordinary opportunity for high school students interested in continuing or starting acting as a hobby.” He has been in five productions at M-A, including the upcoming musical which “gives me great hope for future success in the department.” M-A theatre has allowed him to “better understand [him]self by being able to “be” other people through taking on a character.”

Kelly Davis, also a junior, agrees that M-A Drama is “A lot of great, talented people with a mixture of different personalities all looking to have a good time and to entertain - whether they are entertaining an audience, or each other. I have faith in the people to make the department successful.” M-A drama means a lot to Kelly, as it is “something to look forward to after school - the creativity gives me a break. During my first musical in 6th grade I met great people and, as I continued through middle school, I learned to love the cast as I would a very close family. The reason why I want to make the department at M-A better is not only because I want theater kids to have a good experience and enjoy the resources offered, but so that they can find somewhere where they hopefully feel comfortable and safe among a close group of fun people. That’s what drama is for me.”

espians

by Alyssa Westfield

Students who have graduated from M-A and moved on to college still maintain positive feelings for M-A Drama. Claire Uschersohn, now attending NYU, enjoyed participating in M-A drama. “Forum was the last show I did before I left for college, so it’s the freshest in my mind, and I can honestly say I savored every moment. From the audition to the cast party, I loved every minute and wouldn’t exchange it for anything. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I loved going to rehearsal every day, and yes, I loved tech week too. Everything I ever did with M-A drama, every show, every mosaic day, every banquet, every garden day, was some of the best times I had in high school.” She participated in many plays outside of M-A, but her participation in Bye Bye Birdie and Forum at M-A “were two of the most enjoyable experiences I have ever had in a show. To me, M-A drama is the little engine that could. It’s such a tight knit community, and everyone wants so much to succeed that we just keep going. We’ve faced our obstacles, but every time, the end product is so much more fabulous than we could have ever imagined, and it makes all the work along the way so much more worth it. What I love about M-A drama is that we all have this indescribable passion and love what we are doing so much, we wouldn’t be there if we didn’t. It’s a family.” Zachary Clarence, now attending BU for theatre, describes “M-A drama is a drama program whose roots reside within the students themselves. What makes M-A drama special are the kids who manage to defy all odds and still put shows on the stage.” He was in four plays at M-A, though his significant drama contribution was in founding the drama club. “I formed the drama club my junior year in high school and continued it throughout my senior year. In my senior year, as a club we collaborated on a film which we wrote, produced, directed, and acted in entitled, “Romia and Juliet.” This was my first movie and motivated me to want to do more. My amigos in the drama department continue to astound me on how well we can collaborate together and create more art.”

If you have any interest in the program, Maddie says “AUDITION. DO IT. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. No, seriously. Come. You can be absolutely anyone, and you will find a family in C-16. We’re a little crazy, but that’s fun, right?” Kelly would like you to know that “we kick ass.” Or support your fellow students in the spring musical, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Performance dates are March 18th-19th and 24-26th, 2010. Maddie enthuses, “It is going fantastic. I mean, Matt Schertler as a certain cape-wearing someone named Leaf? How perfect is that!” Though this group may get a minimal number of pages in the yearbook (two, shared with music, which is less than the number dedicated solely to “sports memories”) and there are often cries of “the expensive PAC that no one uses,” this group contains many bright and eager individuals. M-A’s thespians are proud to be part of “M-A drama, the little engine that could.” PHOTOGRAPHY Sandy Napel

Moving to Menlo Park by Gabrielle Busque

Mark Zuckerberg

(Creator of Facebook)

porting the title of the “top social network”, Facebook has grown into a tremendous company that can barely fit into its own office. Having stayed in the same location for most of its existence, Facebook plans to move into a bigger building to accommodate its needs as a company. Even before moving into 1601 S. California Ave, Facebook had practically outgrown the 150,000 square foot space. Facebook was obligated to sublease additional space at 1050 Page Mill Road two years ago as well. The move is long overdue.

needs in terms of everyday commute and fit the space requirements perfectly. Valued at $228.4 million, the office could be sold to Facebook in a leaseback deal at the market price of about $420 million, according to TechCrunch.

The company has been looking for no less than 1 million square feet of office space – bigger than seventeen football fields. The location Facebook is looking at is the Sun Microsystems and Oracle campus on Willow Road in East Menlo Park. 1,024,090 square feet and only six miles up the road from their current location. The building accommodates the employees’

The move would most likely occur in June of 2011. However, while many citizens are excited about the move, it has caused controversy. Residents worry about potential excess traffic. Some say that they do not want Menlo Park to become a commercial area and that this move could ruin the suburban vibe that the city has obtained and its citizens appreciate.

PHOTOGRAPHY Creative Commons

The recently confirmed move may be the ticket to revitalizing Menlo Park’s East Side/Belle Haven neighborhood. With a multibillion-dollar company in its own community, Menlo Park’s east side could be reanimated with potential and promise.

by Prescott Foland

An overwhelming attraction to Canadian born pop-star Justin Bieber, more commonly known as Bieber Fever, has run rampant across the world over the past year. Since the birth of “The Fever”, oil wells have broken and Chilean mines have collapsed. Are these events the result of a New World Order? This reporter can only speculate. Bieber’s song “One Time”, released in November of 2010, documented his infiltration of Usher’s home compound and throwing a drug-fuelled party in which the majority of the attendants were no older than 13. When pop-star Usher was asked about the incident, his simply responded with “Yeah, it was pretty cool.” The video reached #1 worldwide within a number of weeks and Bieber was signed to a multiple album record deal. With his newfound fame, it became obvious that he was becoming a necessary political asset for the United States. He visited the White House under the pretence of performing, but was later pulled into a back room meeting in which President Obama requested that the two should “work together.” Two weeks after their meeting, BP’s oil well erupted in the Gulf of Mexico. President Obama had recently been pushing for banning of offshore drilling but was seeing no luck with congress. His only option was to ask for the help of a gifted young man with an abnormal ability. Bieber, who was born in a log shack next to a Canadian nuclear dumping site, showed signs of being somewhat different from birth. He had the ability to move things with his mind, an ability known as telekinesis. With age his abilities grew and became more powerful, until July of 2009 when he persuaded a young record executive by the name of Usher to sign him to Island Records. He also agreed to be paid in solid gold bricks. Is it possible that Bieber has used his supernormal abilities to warp the world to his liking? It is one of the only valid explanations for what’s been going on in our world lately.

Be My Valentine by Sasha Bobrowicz

rom fat babies with wings shooting people in the butt with mysterious love arrows, to imprisoned Roman priests sending love letters to women they have magically cured of blindness, Valentine’s Day is certainly one of our more fictionalized holidays. Every year, Americans spend thousands of dollars on chocolate roses, candy hearts, and bouquets of roses, all in the hopes of proclaiming one’s love to another. Those unfortunate few who do not receive a cheesy card are usually left feeling lonely and pathetic and for what reason? Where does all this hype come from? The more cynical members of society argue Hallmark needed a holiday to make money between Christmas and Easter, hence the obsession with Valentine’s Day. Those who believe in the “Hallmark Holiday” do have a legitimate argument. Approximately 141 million Valentine’s Day cards are exchanged “industry wide”, while the NECCO conversation heart company produces about 8 billion Sweethearts for the magical day, and 198 million roses were grown specifically for the holiday last year alone. The enormous amount of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia being consumed annually supports the claims of skeptics worldwide. However, the few remaining romantics believe in that a priest by the name of Valentine was sentenced to death for leading an underground Christian movement. Right before his execution, Valentine supposedly sent a letter to a woman he cured of blindness signing it “From Your Valentine”, giving birth to the tradition that has lasted until today. Despite you’re beliefs, Valentine’s Day is, if nothing else, an excellent opportunity to sit around and indulge your inner sweet tooth with a delicious bar of chocolate.

“If you do kiss a politician, remember this: you are not only kissing him, you are kissing every butt that he has kissed in the last eight years”-Jay Leno

“Sophomore year I recieved six roses from a secret admirer. It was adorable, but I still don’t know who he is!”-Anonymous

“One year my really good friend’s boyfriend set up a whole scavenger hunt of people for her. She went from person to person, getting a clue each time, until she found him and he asked her to be his girlfriend. It was really cute and super sweet!”Payton Bush, 11th grade

“Get married early in the morning, that way if it doesn’t work out, you won’t have wasted a whole day”-Mickey Rooney

“Every year my friends and I hang out in downtown Palo Alto, eating yummy food and people watching. It was a one time thing that has turned into a tradition”-Laurin Noguchi, 12th grade

“In the sixth grade I planned an extra special Valentine’s Day surprise for my boyfriend of one month. I came to school early, leaving him a stuffed animal on his desk. When I went into music the next period, there was a stuffed hippopotamus sitting on my desk from him!”-Claire Jungleib, 11th grade

ART Amy Kim

A Modern Storm Lightning, some ways beyond the clouds Crashed and illuminated A world, reaching back to a distant age. “Electron paths; atmospheric discharge” flashed through the travelers mind But scientific purity fell short: Those Zeusian bolts stood for more. “Who can blame them?” he thought – Those ancient peoples, imagining warring Gods and vengeful wrath— Still, today, their insights and concoctions hold When equations leave essence wanting. The plane banked, moving the storm from view And his gaze shifted instead to the lights below. Racing cars, house lights, small flashes from the wingtip Within each bulb, sparks flew and cracked A thousand tiny lightning storms A thousand Creators of a thousand tiny universes Each apart, but moving together or in between And moved by something still unknown. POETRY Evan Weiner

PAINTING Sofia Gutierrez-Dewar

ART Sofia Gutierrez-Dewar 33

GROWING 34 PHOTOGRAPHY Emily Johnson

First be born. Next, eat. Sleep. Poop. Repeat until parents decide to get you out of diapers and onto a toilet. Fight against it. It’s more fun this way. Eventually give into the “big kid” underwear with pictures of your favorite toys on the front and bright colored elastic. Decide you want big kid clothes with characters from your favorite TV shows like The Face, Rugrats and PB&J Otter. If your parents say “no”, stomp your feet, yell and scream until you get them. Learn to ride a bike. Next take the training wheels off and add either a baseball card to the back wheel (for affect) or a white wicker basket with plastic daisies. Scrape your knees; you’ll get more attention this way, not to mention a Snoopy Band-Aid. Next go to school. Realize finger painting and three recesses aren’t that bad, then enjoy going while it’s still fun. Tell your mom you don’t want apples in your lunch, you want pudding, and Nestle chocolate milk through a crazy straw. Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Remember how to throw a tantrum? Good. You’ll need that. Hear the ice cream man coming three blocks away, get a Bugs Bunny popsicle with blue bubble gum eyes even though your mother doesn’t want you to. Get the neighborhood kids together for a game of baseball in the street. Even though you can’t throw to save your life, distract from the fact by running faster than the speed of light (thanks, in part, to your steadfast dedication to “The Flash” in earlier years). Ride your dog like a horse and become the biggest, toughest cowboy west of the living room. Get a cat. Name it after what it looks like. Use names like, Snowball, Snowflake, Mr. Whiskers, and Fluffy. Next is middle school. Don’t be late on the first day. Wave “bye” to mom in the carpool lane but stop soon because that’s not cool. Learn what “cool”

is. Find the “right” designer clothes, popular friends, trendy hairstyle and stylish shoes. Be insecure. Make the next three years hard. Struggle to find yourself, but do not try too hard. Get in BIG fights that you will think are stupid later. Bring a brown bag lunch, because anything else is “nerdy”. Begin to wear make-up and sag your pants, but take it too far and look foolish. Get braces, everyone else does. Switch the colors as frequently as possible to keep people guessing. Go to dances, in a hot school gym. Have your first slow dance, then get shot down. Get over it quickly. Go downtown with friends and feel cool. Do your homework and go to high school. Next, get stressed, college is almost here. Get in fights with parents often, but not so often it’s annoyingly uncomfortable at the dinner table. Hold a few grudges. Argue about curfew, your license, movies you’re allowed to see, sleepovers, and the remote. Choose a few of these per week so things don’t get too settled. Sign up for the SAT. Don’t study, even though you know, that’s dumb. Take the test. Sit next to the weird boy with braces who taps his pencil to an offbeat version of “Don’t Stop Believing’’. Get distracted. Take a nap. Dislike your scores. Re-take it. Three times. Build frustration. Repeat for ACT. Go to prom, decide to wear black, get a date. Decide prom is dumb when you can’t get a date. Watch “Lord of the Rings” alone that night. Watch All. Three. Movies. Extended. Editions. Make sure your cat Frodo is with you, you’ll feel better that way. Make this a regular event for all formal dances. Finish high school. Graduate. Pose for a jillion pictures on Facebook, then delete them because you look too fat. Good. You’re done with high school. For further instructions see “How To End Up” by Jennifer A. Howard. by Kenna Harpell 35

In the high school social hierarchy, they are at the bottom, somewhere slightly below freshmen. They are the phytoplankton at the base of the food chain, with Mr. Zito the carnivorous predator on top; the multi-cellular bottom feeders that are essential to the ecological system that is M-A, even if, like phytoplankton, we feel they are deserving of little of our oh-so-precious attention. By any standards, substitute teachers generally aren’t treated all that well. You’d think we’d be able to tolerate their eccentricities for the short amount of time they’re given hypothetical control of the classroom. However, there are those attention-seeking, loud students who figure, hey, this person is only going to exist in my life for about an hour, might as well give him or her hell and then my fellow classmates will admire me for my inability to shut up. Also, if you think about it, subs have less than an hour to gain respect from a class. It can take some regular teachers more than a week or so to attain the respect and attention of their students, assuming they ever do. We need subs. That is a fact. We cannot just cancel a class if a teacher unexpectedly develops folliculitis, an occurrence that is not necessarily disastrous in the eyes of the unfortunate teacher’s students. It seems that the typical response to an absent teacher and present sub is a holistic cheer from a class seeking a brief reprieve from the unchanging school activity. Students also take advantage of the opportunity to let loose with few consequences. Another fact (just for fun): subs are not out to get students. There are many situations in which a student will do or say

something inexcusable in the presence of a sub who will not report it to the teacher. The typical sub report: they were little angels (WARNING: potential exaggeration present). Reality: they were little devils. There are some classes which are capable of maintaining silence and accepting the inevitable busy work with minimal complaints, and if all the sub does is put in a movie, there is little potential for chaos; however, subs generally receive boatloads of disrespect and abuse that they certainly do not deserve. Generally, subs can be classified into one of four different categories. There are Type 1 subs that really don’t care what the students are doing as long as it isn’t destructive or harmful, permanently anyway. They put in a movie or pass out some busy work, drop into the nearest chair, and proceed to check their e-mail, play Tetris, sleep, etc. Next, there are Type 2 subs who obviously got lost on the way to the correctional facility/insane asylum and probably shouldn’t be trusted around rational minded humans. These are the ones who metaphorically (or with fire) burn the list of activities the teacher left for the students to do and follow their own schedules. Thankfully, this variety of sub is rare at M-A. Militaristic, dictator subs also fall under this category. They treat the class as though it is a specialized military unit and attempt to maintain silence and order, typically failing miserably. Type 3 substitute teachers seem genuinely interested in the students and what the class is learning. Characterized by excessive friendliness, they walk around

ART Caitlin Kenney

the classroom attempting to engage members of the class in conversation and make sure to tell their life stories in more detail than anyone really cares to listen to. If this type of sub is teaching a language class, he or she will attempt to speak the language, regardless of whether he/she is actually familiar with it or not.

professor, a U.S. Naval officer, and the executive of High Tech Silicon Valley. What Mr. Flanagan least enjoys about teaching is the discipline, and the “ ‘smart asses’ who don’t have any respect for the sub [or] the rest of the class.” He believes he has “an obligation to ensure a good learning environment” and live up to the qualifications of teacher.

Lastly, there are Type 4 subs who sub because they legitimately love to teach. Take Ms. Trammel, a regular substitute at M-A. She has been subbing for seven years and before that, she was a teacher at Sacred Heart Prep School for almost 40 years. She taught a wide range of subjects, from biology to music, getting the interdisciplinary foundation from Stanford, where she received her education. She subs because she “want[s] to help kids,” and is a polite and highly intelligent person who is indisputably deserving of our respect, regardless of how little we know her.

Mr. Tallai, also known as Mr. T., is a frequent substitute at M-A. You may know him as the man with a Hungarian accent, a bashful smile, and a desire to share his life stories with the world. If you were to look past his expressive eyebrows, to the whiteboard behind him, you would be sure to notice his e-mail written out, in case a student is eager to contact him with further questions (such as “Why do you sound like Borat?”). After he was asked why he decided to become a substitute teacher, he recounted his near death experience in a car crash, describing the sudden epiphany he had while his truck was flipped upside-down after crashing into a tree. He believed that he “saw the light” but soon realized it was just the white airbag smashed into his face. At that moment, he remembered when his mother once told him “knowledge shared is important”, concluding he wanted to be a teacher and bestow some of his vast array of knowledge and experience on young people. Whether a sub is a type 1, 2, 3, or 4, he or she is still a sentient being whose feelings students should respect. News flash: if you look past the hooves and excessive hair, substitutes are people just like you and me! *collective gasp* Who knows, maybe one day you might be a sub, ensuring that the high school circle of life continues to circle.

All students have at some point experienced a Type 2 sub, and this is where the majority of sub generalizations and stereotypes stem from. However, the vast majority of subs are normal people who are simply looking for some extra work. Students enter a classroom containing a sub with the assumption that he or she will be a Type 2 and is therefore deserving of their collective enmity. However, for every Type 2 sub, there are two Type 4 subs who in no way deserve the mistreatment students feel entitled to give them. Mr. Flanagan is another example of someone who enjoys teaching the given material, and is not there to just “babysit”. Before becoming a substitute teacher, he was a college

PAC Seats for Sale?

by Bridget Magaña & Anna Argente

The Prices for Seats are:

Founder’s Circle $2,500 per seat limited to 50 seats.

Your name could be here!

Patrons $1,000

per seat limited to 100 seats.

Benefactors $500 per seat limited to 342 seats. Interested? Visit this site:

http://www.thecenteratma.org/ name-a-seat/overview.php

PHOTOGRAPHY Keara Haldeman

When you think about how you can leave your legacy at Menlo-Atherton, buying a seat may not be the first thing that comes to mind. Though this notion seems kind of cliché, for many graduating seniors making a lasting memory at high school is emotionally a bigger deal. Both students and family members alike have the ability to purchase a seat from the Performing Arts Center at M-A and can have a plaque placed on the seat with a name imprinted on it. Two parents on the Foundation for the Future board set up this program, who wanted to think of a creative way to support the arts department, as well as help pay off the debt that was created for investing in the PAC itself. Why not let the money go towards the senior fund, or somewhere else that relates to leaving one’s legacy here at M-A? Principal Matthew Zito described that though the seat program doesn’t really support all students from his school, “there are other avenues that do.” Specifically, the money earned from this venture goes towards places such as: buying instruments, festival fees, and sheet music for our band, guitar, and choral programs; as well as paying for the drama department’s set materials and their choreographer’s fee. Currently, there have been around 45-50 seats sold, including the one dedicated and given to Zito for being such a large part of the building’s development. Buying a seat from the PAC would both benefit your own school’s arts departments, while creating another outlet for students to make a name for themselves at M-A.

Back in the US(SR) by Ryan Wentz

sat in my dorm, my brain skipping through a field of subjects. Thoughts of my next art history exam, the upcoming fourteen-mile hike, and our trip to Venice swirled about my mind. Then, I stopped. I began to think about the good olâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Menlo Park and what I missed about it, as I basked in my outdoors paradise.

moments, as the active M-A student body made statements, whether it be the lack of students present on 4/20, the tape wearers raising awareness for the LGBT community on the Day of Silence, and the supporters for Gunn High School when radical, Kansas churchgoers encouraged prejudice and made outlandish remarks.

This past semester, I spent three months in Zermatt, Switzerland, attending school, discovering a new culture, and hiking, skiing, or rock-climbing daily with a program called Swiss Semester. I learned a great deal about myself and my capabilities along with the world around me. We ice climbed 14,000foot peaks and biked more than 30 miles on the weekends, slept in ancient barns and handwrote 20 page art history papers. Life was pleasant but tough. I was in classes with some of the brightest fifteen year olds in our country, yet something was missing: the diversity and the undeniable energy that is M-A.

I fully encourage anyone who gets the opportunity to study abroad, but I realized the inevitable charm and energy that flows through M-A. I loved my time away from home, the exposure to new people, a new culture, and a new setting. Nevertheless, there is nothing like home. And thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no better home than Menlo-Atherton.

Despite all of the fantastic adventures, I missed my old school and its wondrous tradition. My fellow classmates constantly chatted about their preppy, East coast private schools, those that enforced uniforms everyday and provided laptops for each student. On the other hand, I remembered the loose and relaxed rules of M-A and the West coast in general. I reflected on the classic traditions we have here at M-A. The times the 2,000-something student body all crammed into the Old Gym to show pride in the maroon and gold. The smooth rapping, the graceful dancing, and the harmonic singing at the rallies. I also recalled the impromptu

10 Things I Missed at M-A 1. Not waking up at 6:45 everyday, 8:40 on Thursdays (whaddup?) 2. Hall sweeps 3. The chaos of the parking lot 4. Basketball games 5. Rallies 6. Farmerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Markets 7. Not being a freshman 8. Ms. Trent 9. False fire alarms 10. Not doing any school-related things in SSR

PHOTOGRAPHY Ryan Wentz 39

Valentines Day

Mr Priest On Jeopardy

Massive head-shaving for sports

C-

Facebook moving to Menlo Park

Only 9 excused absences from sports

DNobody showing up to Sadie Hawkins

Valentines Day

Speedway closed at 0 period

F-

SAT

That’s Not Water WRITING & DRAWING Maria Ikonomou

“I don’t go at all. I hold it all day, or I go to the nurse.” -Meredith Edwards

“Its disgusting.” -Eisa Evans

“I’ll hold it until lunch,” I think to myself. It is 12:30. Fourth period still has another twenty minutes left. I’ve been holding it for the past three periods, and now, now I just can’t hold it any longer. I grab the bathroom pass, and after my teacher’s nod, proceeded into the hall. I run to the nearest bathroom. Sure, there are no locks on these stall doors, so you have to hold yours shut while you go, but it’s still the cleanest. I grab hold of the handle and pulled, or tried to pull, as the door stubbornly remained closed. I forgot that this one was locked during class time. I run to the end of the E-wing, the big bathroom, although it rarely has soap, fixing your hair isn’t so easy when you have to use a mirror that has a shocking resemblance to the card you got for your fifth birthday, asking you who the birthday girl is, as you stare at your own distorted reflection in the tinfoil rectangle. But I digress, the door of this bathroom is also locked. I might pee my pants. I walk briskly to the Pride Hall bathroom, my last chance. The line is extending into the hallway. Well, at least its open. After a very long time, the line moves far enough so that I gain the awesomely awkward task of holding the door open. Awkward, because you can never quite tell whether your foot is the only one holding it open. Finally, one foot inside the actual bathroom. One foot, which is now covered in unidentified, brown, watery slush. Fantastic. I waited there for what seemed like days, rumors only scratch the surface of what girls get up to in these bathroom stalls. Whatever it is, it takes a long damn time. At last, it’s my turn! I get the handicapped stall, which is awesome because the space between where the door frame meets the wall is big enough for those outside the stall to see in. I walk inside, setting my pass on the window sill so that it doesn’t become covered in whatever the hell is making my shoes slide. To make matters even better, the toilet seat is covered in urine, wonderful. That’s alright, because I can just cover it with a dozen toilet seat covers. But of course, the toilet seat cover dispenser is empty, so now I get to cover the seat with translucent toilet paper. I kick the handle down, retrieve my pass from its clever hiding spot, and leave the stall. I now have to wash my hands. I pushed the tap button that leaves the ice-cold water running for a few seconds, just enough time for me to grab soap from the dispenser, if there were soap, that is. After rinsing my hands in the cold water, I disappointedly wait for the automatic hand-dryer to come on, well, automatically, but it seems it’s just for decoration. Shaking my cold and dripping hands dry, I walk back to my fourth period class.

You’re Standing In

“I’ll hold it until lunch,” I think to myself. It is 12:30. Fourth period still has another twenty minutes left. I’ve been holding it for the past three periods, and now, now I just can’t WRITING Roger Upton hold it any longer. I grab the bathroom pass, and after my teacher’s nod, proceeded into the hall. I run to the nearest bathroom I burst through the doors and into the bathroom and immediately stop in my tracks. I realize that the floor is absolutely drenched with water (I hope…) I slosh my way to the stall because the urinals in the boy’s bathroom are exactly eight inches away from each other, which, in my humble opinion, is a slight invasion of my personal bubble. I try not to stand eight inches away from “I would never people when I am talking to them, much less peeing next to ever ever go them. Naturally, no one wants to stand shoulder to shoulder number two. Write with another guy in front of the urinal, so at busy times like that down. It would lunch and brunch, the bathroom gets crowded. be cleaner in my So, out of the seven urinals which are crammed into pants than on the bathroom, only about three are used at a time. Thus I those toilets.” enter my stall; which does not lock, or even close all the -Alex Gow way because someone slammed the door so hard that the little sliding lock broke. I walk in and wonder who was kind enough to pee all over the seat and floor. I mean are the toilet bowls really too small? Should we invest in larger toilets for those with poor hand eye coordination? Perhaps they were just trying to make a statement by peeing everywhere, or they thought it would be funny. Because it seems that in their carelessness they seem to have created of brownish “Walls between puddle in the corner. I digress… urinals.” I never check the stall for toilet paper, or toilet seat -Jordan covers because I will never sit on that seat. I tap the flush Scandlyn handle with my foot, because I can tell just by looking at that handle that it has multiple diseases. I exit the stall and go to wash my hands, which makes me hate going to the bathroom even more. I approach the sink and tap the handle with my elbow (once again, protecting myself against germs.) The sink then shoots out frigid water for about two seconds and then turns off. I tap the water handle again and get some soap simultaneously; I force myself to keep my hands under the freezing water until I am finally done. I shake my hands off and don’t even bother trying to dry them with the “motion sensitive dryer” because I am far too exhausted to try and deal with any of the other appliances in this bathroom. I push the door open with my foot and head back to class.

Curbing Aggression:

by Michael Abramson oday, fighting on the M-A campus is a rare spectacle. And while many students may lament the lack of entertainment, there is no doubt that M-A is a much calmer setting than it was only a few years ago. Many of these changes can be traced back to 2004, when Matthew Zito became the vice-principal at M-A, a title he held until taking over as principal in 2007.

“What I can say really clearly is that there was certainly a lot more fighting and aggressive behavior

before I got here,” said Zito. “Verbal disputes, shoving matches, little things like that.”

But to truly understand how campus stability

“...There was a dice

has evolved at M-A, you have to look all the way back

g a m b l i n g o p e r a t i o n in

to the Vietnam War and the integration of the school in

the D-wing boys bathroom...”

the late ‘60’s.

“This school was a very upper middle-

class school for the ‘50’s and much of the 1960’s,” explained Zito, “but they started to desegregate the schools, so for the first time you had large numbers of AfricanAmericans on the M-A campus, you have the Vietnam War going on, just a complete change in the culture and makeup of the school.”

“It was just such an incendiary time. The campus really got trashed, part of it was actually torched,

landscaping was trampled….Eventually things started to calm down a bit, but the school was never able really to get everything organized and managed effectively.”

This lack of organization was, at times, evident in recent years, particularly in terms of disciplinary policies.

“Seven years ago,” said Zito, “there was a dice gambling operation in the D-wing boys bathroom, so an admin

would go in there and there would be 14 boys gambling, a full dice operation, with maybe $50 in cash on the floor.” As Zito explained, “Maybe they’d get caught a couple of times and yelled at or suspended a day, but there was no sort of systematic plan”

“One Thursday or Friday night, the first couple months I was here, we were here for several hours, trying to

sort out a fight between 13 or 14 girls.” Zito said. “The problem was, they weren’t even sure who they hit or why they were fighting. It was a lot of screaming and a lot of drama––it’d been a long week and I’d just had enough, I’d had it with all of them, and I ended up yelling myself into everyone being very quiet. Eventually, we just decided they were all getting 5-day suspensions. So we started setting a tone of, if you fight on campus, if you’re involved in that level of 44

Violence at M-A aggressive behavior, you’re automatically going to be suspended for 5 days with no exceptions. I think that whole afternoon is sort of a symbol of everything that was wrong with M-A at that time in terms of its culture” But what was stopping the administration from changing? Certainly M-A’s difficulties with violence and student behavior were clear to those at the school, but it was only recently that things have improved. According to Zito, the problem lay in the community atmosphere.

“There wasn’t a culture here of doing anything more,” said Zito, “There was a fear that if you started

suspending people, the community would be up in arms and the administration would look bad. But in actuality, what the community doesn’t like is inconsistency”

Now, supervision is orderly and controlled. The campus is broken up into three zones that are constantly

patrolled by campus aides and admins. To the dismay of M-A’s gamblers, bathroom dice games are no longer the norm. Students who fight are automatically suspended for 5 days while less serious violations receive lesser punishments. Furthermore, rather than the 6-8 students M-A used to expel a year, M-A now expels about 25 students every

“We have a lot of

year.

wanna-be

behavior...Real gang

members don’t go to high school.”

While Zito has been in charge since 2007, he is by no

means solely responsible for improving student behavior at M-A. “We have a very busy conflict-resolution center,” said Zito,

“and Mr. Lippi, he is sort of the soldier for M-A, he’s always helped keep the ship afloat.”

Gang involvement at M-A is a concern often voiced in the

local community. However, Zito would argue this is not a problem.

“We have a lot of wanna-be behavior, because real gang

members don’t go to high school,” said Zito. “If you’re involved in criminal enterprises, you aren’t coming to your third period English class.”

Regardless of one’s opinion on the current M-A administration or its policies, violent behavior at the school

has undeniably been curbed in recent years while student compliance has improved. Large numbers of students no longer roam the halls during class time and fights are not a weekly occurrence.

“The school was ready to be a calmer, more well taken care of place,” said Zito. “I think everyone has really

appreciated the change. It’s safer and I think it’s a better school.” 45

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