On being a second semester senior
It kind of rocks.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
dedication
These days, it’s hard to go about my business without my dedication to my school and peers called into question by someone trying to sell me something.
The idea that I am somehow betraying my classmates and that I am unappreciative of their hard work if I don’t go to the play is absurd. I don’t want to downplay the fact that the production, especially this year, is a fruit of many hours’ labor, but plenty of people at this school work very hard with no one there to “support” them.
Take the swim team, for example. Along with many other UHS students out there, I can honestly say that I have never been to one of our swim team’s meets. And yet, the swim team works hard every day – their workout regimen is far tougher than many sports can boast – but when the time comes to don the red uniform and defend UHS’s name in the pool, the only support in sight is that of their teammates and their coaches.
Many swimmers on the team swim year-round, not because they need the PE credit, but because their level of dedication requires them to consistently spend hours in the pool. These athletes sacrifice their valuable time – time that could be spent on homework, time that could be spent in the community’s service, time that could be spent even with friends – to pursue athletic excellence under UHS’s banner. And no one comes to “support” them at their meets. Compared to the time commitment they have put in, a commitment of hours, days, weeks, years even, a swim meet doesn’t take very long. And people like you and me can’t even bring ourselves to go out and support that team. I’m not trying to place blame because I am obviously as culpable as the rest.
Skeptics of the case I’ve made might point out a few key differences: that the theater is right here at school, that the swim team is kind of small anyway, that they don’t have the time during the week. Maybe even that the theater program relies on the proceeds from ticket sales.
Without the introduction of my biases, many of the same things I’ve said in reference to the swim team are applicable to the cross-country team. The turnout for the cross-country team’s meets at least isn’t as horrible as what the swim team experiences, but this year it was a close call. We did have some fans (thanks, guys!), but a handful at best. This is despite the fact that our meets are usually conveniently located, usually feature around fifty runners from UHS, and usually feature food. But still: When we put on the red uniforms, and when we put UHS on the podium, the support we have is from our parents, our teammates, some teachers, and a few students.
It’s true that the theater program is in part funded by ticket sales from the plays and the musical. But, it’s not every student’s duty to subsidize an acting program of which she isn’t a part. I might as well start collecting money for the indoor track that would take running at this school to the next level. This line of reasoning misses the point, though, because I’m not being asked to donate money to help our struggling theater program. I’m being asked to buy a ticket, to monetarily confirm my attendance at the play and my unparalleled pride in going to UHS.
You don’t have to go to my cross-country meets, and I don’t have to go to your plays. We’re free to do what we want to do without these alleged moral consequences. I’ll be going to the play on Saturday, and I’m tired of being asked if I’ve bought tickets. I’m tired of having my school spirit called into question. If you really want to guilt-trip someone into showing up at your play, you might have a bargaining chip if you went to his swim meet.
Robert Kealhofer, ’09
The idea that I am somehow betraying my classmates and that I am unappreciative of their hard work if I don’t go to the play is absurd. I don’t want to downplay the fact that the production, especially this year, is a fruit of many hours’ labor, but plenty of people at this school work very hard with no one there to “support” them.
Take the swim team, for example. Along with many other UHS students out there, I can honestly say that I have never been to one of our swim team’s meets. And yet, the swim team works hard every day – their workout regimen is far tougher than many sports can boast – but when the time comes to don the red uniform and defend UHS’s name in the pool, the only support in sight is that of their teammates and their coaches.
Many swimmers on the team swim year-round, not because they need the PE credit, but because their level of dedication requires them to consistently spend hours in the pool. These athletes sacrifice their valuable time – time that could be spent on homework, time that could be spent in the community’s service, time that could be spent even with friends – to pursue athletic excellence under UHS’s banner. And no one comes to “support” them at their meets. Compared to the time commitment they have put in, a commitment of hours, days, weeks, years even, a swim meet doesn’t take very long. And people like you and me can’t even bring ourselves to go out and support that team. I’m not trying to place blame because I am obviously as culpable as the rest.
Skeptics of the case I’ve made might point out a few key differences: that the theater is right here at school, that the swim team is kind of small anyway, that they don’t have the time during the week. Maybe even that the theater program relies on the proceeds from ticket sales.
Without the introduction of my biases, many of the same things I’ve said in reference to the swim team are applicable to the cross-country team. The turnout for the cross-country team’s meets at least isn’t as horrible as what the swim team experiences, but this year it was a close call. We did have some fans (thanks, guys!), but a handful at best. This is despite the fact that our meets are usually conveniently located, usually feature around fifty runners from UHS, and usually feature food. But still: When we put on the red uniforms, and when we put UHS on the podium, the support we have is from our parents, our teammates, some teachers, and a few students.
It’s true that the theater program is in part funded by ticket sales from the plays and the musical. But, it’s not every student’s duty to subsidize an acting program of which she isn’t a part. I might as well start collecting money for the indoor track that would take running at this school to the next level. This line of reasoning misses the point, though, because I’m not being asked to donate money to help our struggling theater program. I’m being asked to buy a ticket, to monetarily confirm my attendance at the play and my unparalleled pride in going to UHS.
You don’t have to go to my cross-country meets, and I don’t have to go to your plays. We’re free to do what we want to do without these alleged moral consequences. I’ll be going to the play on Saturday, and I’m tired of being asked if I’ve bought tickets. I’m tired of having my school spirit called into question. If you really want to guilt-trip someone into showing up at your play, you might have a bargaining chip if you went to his swim meet.
Robert Kealhofer, ’09
Sunday, January 11, 2009
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