High School Confidential

By Benjamin Brenner

	Ben Brenner, a senior at Somers High, last wrote for this column on Feb. 20, 2008.

On the first day of fifth grade I wandered the halls of my elementary school searching for Mr. Platow’s classroom. Finding one of my classmates to guide me, I stood with trepidation in front of the big wooden door, debating whether or not the rumors could be true.

The pre-pubescent voices of my peers echoed in my head: “I heard he gives five hours of homework a night and you get detention if you sneeze!”

Gathering all my courage, my little fingers encircled the doorknob, twisted, and I entered the fifth grade. The year would be a trying one for me, as I soon came to realize that my short, bald, Napoleonic teacher expected the 20 11-year-olds in his class to behave like adults. His teachings ranged from geography to etiquette, vocabulary to posture.

If I wanted to avoid detention and failure, I was expected to be able to label every South American country when given a blank map as well as express my gratitude to the teacher for giving me the blank map. The labeling and the “thank you” were equally important. I was expected to memorize vocabulary words, and incorporate the word “please” into every sentence.

Bellowing, scolding, and drilling knowledge into his students, Mr. Platow attempted to force a lifetime of knowledge into nine months. Coinciding with this aspiration, the five hours of homework rumor proved to be relatively accurate, and as I struggled to complete my grammar assignment or science lab, I cursed my teacher with the foulest words a fifth grader could conjure.

Seven years later, though my manners may have transformed, I can still label every South American country. I reflect back on my fifth grade year with a smile, confident that nothing else I have experienced has been as beneficial as my year with Mr. Platow. Pushing me to the brink of intellectual exhaustion, my teacher ingrained good habits, skills, and knowledge, forever leaving his mark.

In ninth grade, while most of my English class was getting 70s on vocabulary tests, I was effortlessly scoring 90s. In 10th grade, both my Spanish and math teachers would collect binders to grade them on organization, and as the teachers circled their rooms in the undercurrent of moaning and complaining, I relaxed and reclined in my chair. For me, organization had become second-nature.

Eleventh grade brought the challenge of AP American history and an endless barrage of note taking. Though taking notes on 30 pages of a history textbook per week was no simple task, the process was simplified using Mr. Platow’s note-taking method.

From schoolwork to dinner with my girlfriend and her parents, the habits that my fifth grade teacher instilled continue to influence every aspect of my life. As I finish my senior year and leave for college, I depart with the certainty that I will make my cynical, neurotic, ingenious fifth grade teacher proud. I am no longer intimidated, but excited and enthusiastic as I look forward to the next challenge.

By Ben Brenner

	Ben Brenner, a senior at Somers High, last wrote for this column in our Jan. 30, 2008 issue.

It is common knowledge that we write best about what we know, what we care about. As I sat and contemplated what I know, what matters to me, I actually realized that I was thinking about my college essay, and as chills clawed their way up my spine and neck, never before did college seem so close, so real, and I wondered if I am even ready to leave.

I was overcome by an unwanted insight that my time in high school is limited, and for that brief moment, I felt unhappy. As the emotions swept over me, I unearthed something I cared for deeply, something that is a part of my existence and has been for more than three years. I decided that my college essay should be about high school.

For me, high school is about fun, about living on more than the essentials. My high school life is more than eating, drinking and sleeping. It is more than breathing; I have found my four years are better defined by the moments I have held my breath—before my first kiss, before the SAT scores, before the final whistle.

If I have learned one thing, it is that I specialize in the science of change, a course worth no credits, a course of no value to a college resume, a course I enrolled in the second I walked into the lobby my freshman year. This course has taught me to reject the stable and constant, and adapt to countless transformations. I want my story told and retold; I want to leave with a legacy, something to be remembered for. I need this because I can never leave completely, and no matter where college relocates me, a part of me will always be a Tusker. So with a flare of insanity, even stupidity, I have spent the last three years trying to craft my high school experience into something worth remembering.

As each day passes I wish I had more time. Goodbye will be the hardest part. Hello seems like a lifetime ago but goodbye looms ever closer. It seems surreal, but I know as tears begin to precipitate, I will feel the reality of goodbye in the moisture. As the saline streaks my cheeks I can only hope that I have no regrets, and that each tear has been earned in a brief four years of living, laughing and loving.

Now I feel the pressure of time, the haste of life, of getting older. I experience love and hate, victory and defeat, ecstasy and depression, as the freedom and pressures of time prey on me every second of every day.

The time I have left in high school is reserved for preparation, and with so little time left I will say my goodbyes, but my life will continue to be about fun, and I will continue living for today in hopes that I will be remembered tomorrow.

By Hannah Berkman

	Hannah Berkman is co-Editor-in-Chief of the Briarcliff Bulletin at Briarcliff High School.

All issues have two sides. In order to emphasize this, I decided to explore one side of an issue that I had previously never considered.

The United States Army currently represents a cross-section that is not an accurate reflection of the makeup of the American people. A draft would be the most democratic solution to this problem.

More than 154,000 American troops are currently in Iraq, according to The Australian. All of them are volunteers.

A major incentive for joining the United States military is the money for education it offers. Low-income American citizens often see this as the only opportunity to be able to attend college. Consequently, 55 percent of American troops come from households whose yearly income is under $41,685, according to the Heritage Foundation.

Representative Charles Rangel (D-N.Y.) recently proposed re-instituting a draft for the military, a method the United States hasn’t used since Vietnam.

When it comes to politics, money talks. Rangel believes that senators and representatives often rely on wealthy constituents, rendering government officials less likely to enact something as seemingly drastic as a draft for those constituents’ children.

A draft would provide the United States with more troops, which, Rangel says, is greatly needed.

“If we’re going to challenge Iran and challenge North Korea, and then, as some people have asked, to send more troops to Iraq, we can’t do that without a draft,” he told the Associated Press.

Foreign issues aside, an increase in troops would result in a more capable group of reserves for the United States Army, responsible for protecting the American mainland from such dangers as natural disasters.

A draft would inevitably increase citizen participation in national security, which is a democratic ideal. American citizens who value their democracy should be willing to take an active role in preserving it.

Serving in the army is a daunting concept for parents and eligible children alike. Israelis have learned to tough it out, though, and so should Americans, if only to prove their devotion to their country’s principles.

Participation in the military does not necessarily translate to armed combat.

“Young people would commit themselves to a couple of years in service to this great republic, whether it’s our seaports, our airports, in schools, or in hospitals,” Rangel said.

Critics say that an increase in manpower would produce more global strife. They worry that a president with a stronger military would be more inclined to engage in warfare.

More likely, however, a draft would have the opposite effect. If there were a draft, the commander-in-chief would have to be more circumspect with the usage of troops – troops comprised of the children from of all social classes.

The United States prides itself on being fair, but fairness in the military will only be achieved when all groups are participating on an equal level.