ISSUE 1
Contents
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Fireworks (pháo hoa) | Adalyn Ngo
3
Model | Anonymous
5
Stuck in Between | Amanda Maia
6
The True Value of Citizenship | Mame Balde
The Hotchkiss School seeks to inspire a diverse range of students who are committed to the betterment of self and society, and to cultivate in them at the highest standards of excellence imagination and intellect, openness and personal integrity, empathy and responsible citizenship that they may discover and fulfill their potential as individuals fully engaged in our world.
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Interpretation | Meghana Annamaneni
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Citizenship: Turbulence at the Border | Sophie Ahmed
We want Spectrum to act as a platform for those who want to tell their story and give the community a chance to learn more about each other. However, as you will see in this issue, submissions may also be made anonymously. If you would like to submit work to us with a request for anonymity, you can contact a specific member(s) of our team that you are comfortable with or you may anonymously mail a printed copy of your submission to one of us.
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Second Class Citizen | Sherman Cravens
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Citizenship | Lucinda Paddock
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Morocco | Amanda Hill
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Belonging vs. Citizenship | Gemma Tung
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Why We Need DACA | Anonymous
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All I Hated Was Celery | Hannah Lothian
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“Citizenship” Survey Responses
Message from the Editors: For our first issue of the year, we have chosen the theme of “Citizenship”. Living through all different experiences, the members of the Hotchkiss community have a breadth of cultural backgrounds, and we hope this issue is able to illuminate the significance of citizenship in our lives. We decided to start off the year with an issue on “Citizenship” due to the creation of the school mission statement last year which focuses on creating responsible citizens:
Additionally, we would like to reiterate that if members of the Hotchkiss community feel compelled to respond to the content of any issue, they are welcome to produce a thoughtful response and submit it to be published in a following issue. Finally, while the overarching theme may change with each issue, Spectrum is always commited to promoting open, thoughtful conversation as well as upholding themes of diversity, equity, and inclusivity. We encourage contributors to use the “I” perspective in their work, and we hope that every member of our community will use Spectrum as an oppurtunity to better understand, communicate with, and respect others. The opinions and experiences published in this issue do not necessarily represent the views of The Hotchkiss School or the Spectrum leadership; they only pertain to each author or artist. - Anna Connell, Sherman Cravens, Sophia de Peña, Priyanka Kumar Cover Artwork: Almost by Paola Karapatakis Let us know if you’re intersted in writing or doing layout for Spectrum! Editor in Chiefs Anna Connell, Sherman Cravens, Sophia de Peña, Priyanka Kumar Staff Writers Lily Alicea, Paola Karapatakis Elysia Li, Jailyn Mallard, Gemma Tung Layout Manager James Li, Amy Wang Design Staff Dajung Lim, Robbie McCall, Adalyn Ngo
TheSpectrum Spectrumofof Citizenship. The
Art: Siren Dreamscape by Kyra Matus ’18
Fireworks (pháo hoa)
Adalyn Ngo
They don’t look the same I am surprised by this when I arrive Everyone back home had whispered loudly about those with the blue eyes and hair made of white gold long legged and paper skin No one talked about the rest of them
Many turn their nose at the scent of gasoline but everything where I came from was doused in it I had to leave Things were to be set aflame soon There was going to be nothing left for me my parents warned me
I look like the rest of them I suppose we are not worthy of mention There is an indescribable comfort in familiarity and most days I am unsure of why I left home at all
They set small rockets on fire here for entertainment, for fun They can afford it I have been afraid of fire before but watching what seemed like stars explode in the sky petals unfurling against an inky black background It was impossible not to be enchanted In my language they call it floating flowers
I left the crimson paper lanterns that dotted the sky in August and all the types of pastries wrapped in banana leaves My mother in the kitchen humming as she prepared custards and syrups My father draping the house in red to prepare for our dead The yellow flowers chrysanthemums and marigolds sat on the altar and watched
1 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
I am still learning what it means to be an American it feels like I am always learning The country, the languages, its people I am learning of what to be proud of
2 | Love Photo taken by Sophia de Peña ’18
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Anonymous
Hand on her heart she stands perfectly poised reciting an oath she knows better than herself. It rolls off of the tongue without question A never ending cycle
The smell of gunpowder lingers on her father’s combat uniform A star-spangled banner waves gracefully in front of their home Her mother’s PTA sign rests boastfully in the windowsill What else could make them more perfect?
Anything to be a model citizen The poster child of the promised land Until the red, white, and blue she knows so well becomes too close for comfort
She looks around at her classmates, some standing With their eyes vacant, mouths shut. She hesitates as she pushes the words off of her tongue Justice for all
3 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
Photo taken by Sophia de Peña ’18
My father strongly believes that if he becomes an American citizen, it will make him less of a Brazilian. He has expressed this interesting opinion to me even though I have dual citizenship. Ever since the first time he shared this with me, it made me question whether or not I should truly consider myself American and Brazilian. I’ve struggled with this question of citizenship all my life. I grew up watching Journal Nacional, New York 1, and CNN, and being able to read the New York Times while struggling to read simple Brazilian children’s books. I always thought I had been juggling both identities quite well; traveling to Brazil and staying with family waas enough for me to feel like a Brazilian citizen. Recently though, I realized that I had no idea how the Brazilian government actually worked after former Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff was impeached, yet I had taken U.S History for 5 years and studied the same 200 years each time. So I thought to myself: am I really Brazilian? I decided that I was not, and I was much less a Brazilian citizen. My citizenship was just a title, but I wasn’t living up to it. But now, I’ve realized that my citizenship is just as important as any other identifiers I use in my life, from my gender to sexual orientation. It’s not about a passport or any document that legally ties me to both countries, it’s about how I decide to express myself culturally and socially that keeps me true to my dual citizenship.
Amanda Maia
Stuck in Between
Paola Karapataki
5 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
The True Value of Citizenship Mame Balde
To me, citizenship means having the ability and the courage to help those around you. Citizenship is a title people earn from good character and actions. It does take a lot to exert citizenship which is why I think it is title people have to work hard to receive. In order to be a citizen, you have to put yourself in other people’s shoes. This does not just mean the people directly around you, but you have to place yourself in the shoes of people who you don’t even know so you can see things from their perspectives and learn how to help. It is just as important to show good citizenship to people who live in different places and who may not have the resources or the means to receive any other kind and helpful gesture and actions. Having the privilege to be a citizen means that you should show others what it means to be a good citizen. The first time I really pondered what it meant to even be a citizen and exert citizenship is a couple years ago when both of my parents decided to become citizens of the U.S. By becoming a citizen they were willing to put what’s in the interest of other people in a new country who had different cultures and values than them. They were also agreeing to help people in their new country who were less fortunate than them, which I believe is a pure act of citizenship. My parents are not the only ones who do this, they are amongst millions who are willing to be not only citizens of their home town or country, but citizens globally of different places and countries who do not have the same rights as them. It is our moral right to practice citizenship as we are citizens of the human race.
6 | Citizenship
Interpretation Meghana Annamaneni
When my parents emigrated from India to America, they were familiarized with a new and variant country. In the beginning, there were a lot of opportunities and challenges for them as well as a positive profusion of perspectives. Their life here was unique compared to life in their hometowns for a variety of reasons, and they wanted to share why with others. Extending from their neighbors to their work they got to share their stories from India and in return listen to those individuals’ backgrounds. I was born in America, and have lived here since I was born. Therefore, when I was younger, I didn’t understand how diverse a group of people’s stories could be, because from my standpoint the majority of kids I had grown up with were from my town and school and there wasn’t a unique story for me to tell. When my parents told me anecdotes from life in their hometown and how surreal it was at first for them to see the similarities and differences between here and India, it was something I wanted more of. Now, even though I have not been in the Hotchkiss community for long, I’ve already been able to hear the diverse values and stories through the students. Not only do I have the chance to hear it, but see it through a wide variety of representation like flags representing the students hometowns in the dining hall. Hotchkiss is a place abound with people from a numerous amount of places; everyone is able to share their personal stories outside of Hotchkiss, and the ability to share that story is citizenship.
Meghana Annamaneni
Photo taken by Sophia de Peña ’18
8 | Citizenship
Citizenship: Turbulence at the Border Sophie Ahmed
As a young girl I was fortunate to have lived across continents. Though it came with many benefits, I also saw the challenges of how immigration and border control works across nations. In the current US administration, immigration and restricted travel is playing out in the headlines. I have witnessed and suffered border control harassment first hand. I am half Pakistani and it is with this “burdened” passport which I have witnessed my father, quite a few times, in what I call the “Back Room”. I see the racism associated with being Pakistani (or Islamic), at airports in particular. Though my father is an international businessman, he traveled with a Pakistani passport, causing extra hours spent in airports when entering many countries. Today my father travels as an Australian citizen (having spent years in Sydney). Yet, I can still say that the front page of his Australian passport which states “Born in Karachi”, has not eased my father’s airport dilemmas. It was this summer as I traveled alone to my Israeli summer school program in Tel Aviv, that I personally experienced this harassment due to my last name, Ahmed. At JFK airport, the supervisors not only singled me out from the 130 students I was traveling with, but they also made me put all my personal possessions (earphones, computer, and phone) in my check-on bags, which they looked through and scanned thoroughly. The last straw was being body searched - including the directive to take off my clothing - and hence the realization of biases that surround certain ethnicities hit me hard.
Photo taken by Jordan Feast ’18
The same occurred upon landing in Tel Aviv. The fact that my grandfather is Israeli, and a national Olympic hero, played to no sympathies. I was promptly escorted to the “Back Room” and held there for three hours, while being asked multiple and duplicative questions: “Where is your father from? What does he do? When have you been in Pakistan (never!)? Why are you in Israel?”. Being half Pakistani, a quarter Israeli, and a quarter American, I am more informed on racism, and immigration, than most sometimes, a painful realization. As a result of my personal experience this summer and, via my father throughout my life, I would make the current topic of immigration and border control my personal passion. I would suggest a summit with world leaders to discuss racism and discrimination that occurs to innocent, law abiding citizens who travel across borders. There needs to be more intelligence shared with border control agents as they often lack the education and sophistication in questioning travelers. Not to mention, a severely poor attitude that leaves no doubt that ‘welcome’ is not part of the vocabulary. Unfortunately in these turbulent times, we are heading down a rocky road. With the current announcement of possible anti-affirmative action (in school admissions) spearheaded by the President, I don’t see things improving soon. I just hope we can all stand up to what’s ahead. I feel fortunate in many ways to be able to speak for those who have been bullied, and I have become an advocate for more education and rights for safe and legal travellers, without them facing racism.
10 | Citizenship
SECOND CLASS CITIZEN SHERMAN CRAVENS
Feeling underrepresented Feeling hopeless Feeling stereotyped Feeling uncared for Feeling like someone is always watching you Feeling plotted against Feeling 3/5 a man Feeling angry your culture is being subjugated to a month Feeling like any second a police stop could be the end Feeling your culture is a fade for other people to try Feeling like you don’t belong FEELING LIKE A SECOND CLASS CITIZEN
Photo taken by James Li ’19
12 | Citizenship
CITIZENSHIP Lucinda Paddock If you meet someone for the first time, they invariably ask two questions: “What’s your name?” and “Where are you from?” I happen to know my own name, so I find it fairly easy to answer the first, but the second has always posed a problem. As an American citizen born in Germany, I learned from a very early age that my answer should depend on not only the simple facts of citizenship and birthplace, but also the identity of whoever asked the question. When I was in Germany, a simple response of, “I’m American,” would suffice; however, this answer didn’t seem to satisfy my fellow Americans, who would either stare at me quizzically or ask confusing follow-up questions. To further complicate matters, my parents announced we were moving to China soon after my fifth birthday. Excited about the move, I started spouting gibberish and telling my parents that I already knew how to speak Chinese; I had yet to realize that any new country we moved to would only leave me more confused when it came to introducing myself. Fortunately, I was bright enough to figure it out with practice – by the end of eight years in China, I could not only speak decent Chinese, but also answer the “Where are you from?” question with little hesitation. I even developed a quick speech, taking care to address the most common comments and concerns: “Hi, I’m Lucy, I live in China. I used to live in Germany. Yes, we move a lot because of my dad’s job. No, I’ve never lived in the US. Yes, I do visit America sometimes. No, nobody eats dogs here. Why does everyone feel the need to ask that?”
13| The Hotchkiss Spectrum
After China, we moved to India; after India, we moved to Singapore. At the age of seventeen, I have lived in more countries than some people ever visit in their lives – and I’m fully aware of the privilege in that. I have had the immense joy visiting the Great Wall a total of six times, zip lining over Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, and buying knockoff Harry Potter DVDs for a mere 10RMB. The ways living as an expatriate shaped who I am today are numerous and far-reaching; I wouldn’t give up my international childhood for the world. Regardless, I’m forced to admit that the question, “Where are you from?” leaves me stumped. If I had the time, I could spend half an hour waxing poetic about Shanghainese food and the joys of soup dumplings, but I’m aware that a near stranger who likely asked the question out of politeness may not be interested. In recent years, especially, the question of my hometown has been particularly complicated. Trying to explain the situation of going to boarding school on the east coast, while technically living in Singapore, while my parents are in the process of finally moving back to the US, leaves me constantly adjusting my little introduction speech. I’m sometimes tempted to gloss over the truth – now that my parents have an apartment in New York, is it lying to say that I’m from there? I suppose, “I live in New York,” is a true statement, but it leaves out a lot of backstory. In the end, I find it’s best to be blunt: “Hi, I’m Lucy. Where am I from? Well, it’s complicated – do you have a minute?”
Photo taken by Jordan Feast ’18
Morocco “bshHal?” I asked, gesturing to a blue-toned painting depicting Oudaya, a Moroccan city known for its alluring and cohesive architecture. After browsing market shops filled with art of various colors, subjects, and interpretations, I found the piece. It resonated a soon-to-be-reminiscent sense of place, while still being a reasonable size for a suitcase. “Set miya dirham,” the shopkeeper replied, already selecting additional options for my viewing after hearing my inquiry for the cost. His proposed price, six hundred dirham, equivalent to sixty US dollars, was at least double the reasonable price. In Morocco’s medina, it was typical and expected for prices to be debated, adjusted, and eventually agreed upon before a purchase. “Ghali bezzef,” I said. Too expensive. Having exhausted my vocabulary in Darija, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic, I switched to French to continue bargaining. Though Morocco is predominantly an Arabic-speaking nation, most Moroccans in Rabat, the capital city and home to my host family, are sufficiently if not equally comfortable conversing in French. While my study abroad program focused on Modern Standard Arabic and Darija, my prior experience, which was minimal in MSA and nearly nonexistent in Darija, left me thankful for the opportunity to fall back on my years of French classes. “Cent. Je suis un étudient, vous savez que je ne peux pas payer beaucoup,” I insisted. One hundred. I am a student, you know I cannot pay a lot. “Oui, donc je te donne un bon prix. 550 dirham,” the shopkeeper countered. Yes, so I am giving you a good price. We proceeded in countering exchanges, swapping prices and gradually edging towards a center point. Throughout the conversation, I repeatedly reminded myself I was not being rude as I had first felt when bargaining; coming from Connecticut, where an item’s cost is decided by the number on its price tag, bargaining was an unknown and initially uncomfortable necessity. In Morocco, failure to bargain effectively meant overpaying and could limit the items a family could purchase. It was the opposite of the rude connotation of arguing the price in my hometown, but it was a norm I learned to accept, engage in, and even enjoy. The first time I entered Rabat’s medina, I was overwhelmed by the accelerated pace and the sweat of hurried crowds in July heat. I realized my discomfort in this unfamiliar environment reflected more on my own background than the place itself. Bargaining was not, by default, uncomfortable; it only seemed so because of its newness and its contrast to daily commerce in my home. As I built experience and confidence, the trepidation of my first purchase rapidly dissipated. The fast-paced, dual-sided conversations with market shopkeepers challenged me to confront the variations in cultural norms between my home in the States and my temporary home in Morocco. Successfully navigating the markets ultimately represented one of my most valued skills from studying abroad and the pertinence of travel: to foster a willingness to learn and adapt as a global citizen actively participating in the world and all its opportunity.
Amanda Hill
Photo taken by Amanda Hill ’19
15 | Citizenship
Belonging vs. Citizenship Gemma Tung
What does it mean to be a citizen of the United States of America? Is it a passport? A green card? Just living on U.S. soil ? The concept of citizenship is just a formal version of the concept of belonging. Being ‘from’ a place. Merriam Webster defines “citizen” as an inhabitant of a city or a town. Then, how do you define an inhabitant? One that occupies a particular place regularly, routinely, or for a period of time. So really, on the most basic level, citizenship isn’t about what kind of passport or documentation you have. It’s about where you belong, and the place you occupy. Where are you from? Where do you belong? Not everybody’s answers are the same for both questions. Personally, I’ve always struggled with this. I belong to more than just a city I’ve lived in for a year. I belong to Portland, Oregon. The Evergreen trees, the mountain view, and the constant rain. I belong to my family. The high expectations, the tempers, but also the quick humor and motivation to do better. I belong to Hotchkiss. The heated snackbar discussions, the high stress levels, and the famous sunsets. I belong to my friends. The sleepovers spent goofing around, the deep soul-searching conversations, the constant support, and the periodic fights. I belong to the lifestyle I live. The feeling of constantly going without breaks, the rewards, and all the hard work. You don’t just belong to places, but you belong to people and things that may not be tangible. You can’t have documentation saying you belong to a person or a thing, so why does documentation saying you belong to a place play into such a huge part of our lives? Where am I from? Well, I live in Brookline, Massachusetts. I’ve lived in Brookline for less than a year. All I know about it is that there’s constantly construction and that the drivers are… shitty… I couldn’t possibly be from a place I’ve only lived in for school breaks, but isn’t that what my citizenship says? This piece of paper defining our citizenship doesn’t say much about who we are, where we are from, or where we belong. But according to the definition, isn’t that what it should do?
Photo taken by Pete Assakul ’18
17 | Citizenship
WHY WE NEED DACA Anonymous
DACA stands for “Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals”, and acts as temporary
protection against deportation for individuals who entered the country before the age of 16. The Dreamers are the 800,000 young immigrants this policy protects named after the DREAM Act Bill, which was established by the Obama Administration in 2012 to defer deportation for two years and allow these individuals to be eligible for a work permit. According to Newsweek, about 72% of DACA recipients are in higher education and have helped nearly 700,000 immigrants find jobs and boost the American economy. This policy is extremely important for the overall advancement of the greater world, and it lets immigrant students finish their studies without having to worry about being deported. I am an American citizen, so I do not know first-hand the benefits of DACA, but from my perspective, it needs to stay. I can’t find any faults in DACA and in helping immigrants who came to America as young kids with their parents receive a better education and quality of life. Additionally, DACA recipients do not pose a physical threat to anyone in the states; to apply for DACA, there is a list of requirements and papers that prevents against accept anyone who has committed a felony or even a small number of misdemeanors. As a country who values citizenship and rights, DACA is a safe haven for many young people whose parents sacrifice everything to take them to the states. DACA is granting Dreamers the education that their parents originally wanted them to have. So, give the Dreamers what they want. There’s no harm in wanting an education.
Photo taken by Jordan Feast ’18
21 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
19 | Citizenship
All I Hated Was Celery
Hannah Lothian
My mother’s lovely lotion lathered limbs touching tenderly young yet crippled cracks Crying skin warming weary legs lost to labour lacking strength soothing soft swirls saving future’s saviour singing songs sorrowfully for failures far behind because bent were worries wondered when I was a woman’s wishful whim in those yesterday tomorrows yearning you ran from it fear fleeting as she fled Sooth Swaddled in her silence Heeding heavy heartbeat I dream now nightmares she lived
Photo taken by Sophia de Peña ’18
Photo taken by Priyanka Kumar ’19
21 | Citizenship
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How do you express your citizenship?
Citizenship - Survey Results
Everything from giving time and effort to make these groups work, and hopefully work better by my participation, to voting/paying taxes/staying informed of current events, to volunteering in various ways. - Ms. Peggy Hsia, Faculty
What does citizenship mean to you?
I express my citizenship in how I participate in conversation (my perspective relates to where I am from to an extent), and especially in national celebrations of independence or patriotism on holidays.
It is too ambiguous a term so not much really. It is just something people preach about without any specifics .
- Anonymous, Upper Mid
- Anonymous, Lower Mid
I show my citizenship through taking advantage of what my community has to offer and offering what I can to my community.
Citizenship is legally being a member of a country. It grants a person access to whatever rights belong to a citizen- this can be voting, healthcare, jury duty- etc.
- Ava Hingson, Upper Mid
- Anonymous, Upper Mid Being a part of a culture and patriotism. - MIngyu (Tina) Deng, Prep
How does one become a global citizen?
What does citizenship look like at Hotchkiss?
First, I think we should focus on being better local citizens. Then, one can branch out to global citizenship. - Mr. Doug Kneeland, Faculty
Extremely left-leaning, progressive and politically correct; intolerant of any views that are even just one degree to the right.
A global citizen is one who keeps themselves up to date with global happenings and has an opinion on global matters that is formed by analyzing sources from multiple points of view.
- Anonymous, Staff
- Anonymous, Lower Mid
At Hotchkiss, this can look like helping your corner of the school in any way you can. Uplifting a friend, helping to answer questions when someone asks you in class, or clearing plates left at a table you haven’t been to all day are all great ways to be a citizen and contribute to Hotchkiss community.
Cleaning up after oneself, coming to class meeting, chapel, and other events that are tempting to skip.
There are several steps we can take to becoming global citizens, such as learning a foreign language and the way that language simultaneously mirrors and reinforces cultural mindsets, living abroad, but not as a tourist ex-pat -- rather integrated, to the extent possible -- in the society, and familiarizing ourselves with diverse histories. The fact is it requires real motivation, because these are commitments that take time and resources. From there, I think actually PRACTICING active global citizenship is relatively easy. It doesn’t have to be very different from exercising citizenship in our home communities.
- Anonymous, Senior
- Anonymous, Faculty
- Jayla-Whitney Spidell, Senior
22 | The Hotchkiss Spectrum
30 | Love
23 | Citizenship
Art: Siren Dreamscape by Kyra Matus ’18
The Spectrum of Citizenship