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Recently, I challenged myself to go vegetarian for an entire week. It wasn’t as difficult as I had envisioned it to be, largely thanks to the marinated tofu that became an inseparable part of my diet. My motivation for this challenge was to develop my environmental awareness; vegetarianism for a week is the smallest gesture I could do to show my willingness to reduce my carbon emissions. To this point, I was met with a spectrum of reactions: some admired my receptive attitude, while others accused me of not doing enough or lamented that my efforts would not make a significant difference in combating climate change. I believe these criticisms are also the ones contemporary climate change narratives face. To answer these sentiments, I want to share a climate change philosophy I’ve grown to sympathize with: moderate activism. Moderate activism comes to terms with climate change through policies that take smaller steps instead of large ones. Though each step might not be the radical change that will “solve” climate change altogether, the changes amount to a sizable effort. This also includes community involvement, where activism transforms from an individual pursuit to a more communal one. In my experience, most popular climate change activists often emphasize revolutionary changes to drastically reduce emissions. A notorious example is Greta Thunberg, whose name often pops up when talking about climate change; her ideas are radical and infeasible as she advocates for carbon footprint reductions that exceed financial and logistical capabilities. So her passionate advocacy did not bring about the changes that she sought. Factories burning fossil fuels still emit carbon dioxide, animal production industries still raise herds of farting livestock that leave huge carbon footprints, and people are still driving these industries through consumption. I think there’s something evidently dysfunctional with predominant climate change activism. Moderate activism solves these problems in a few good ways. Foremost, I believe moderatism allows for broader participation. I often find myself situated in a cascade of comparatives when confronting climate change. I had gone vegetarian to do my part in tackling climate change. But why didn’t I go vegan, if veganism reduces emissions so much more than vegetarianism? Why didn’t I boycott all fossil fuel energy sources to further lower my carbon footprint? Why didn’t I become a luddite to really spread the message? You see, the questions become quite absurd. The emphasis should not be on doing as much as possible, but on committing to actions sustainable—both to the environment and your own routines—so that you will ultimately stick with it. Lower rigors for participation that I mentioned are also much more feasible for the general public. As Anne Bonneau, author of the environmental culinary guide The Zero Waste Chef , so eloquently puts it, “We don’t need a handful of people doing zero waste perfectly. We need millions of people doing it imperfectly.” The truth about climate change is that a lot of people doing a few far outweighs a few people doing a lot. An entire nation reducing their meat consumption by five percent does far more than a small community of activists abstaining from animal products for life. Speaking based on my own vegetarian challenge, going plant-based or vegetarian isn’t difficult, but going vegan is far more demanding. Getting a society to go on a plant-based diet should be the kind of policy we strive for. I believe a good policy should be from the shoes of the everyday layman—someone who’s accustomed to their lifestyle and isn’t ready to just live like a hermit. Another benefit that comes with moderation is the possibility for more changes. Humans struggle with changes. We also hate being told what to do. So people tend to resent large changes, especially government-enforced ones. Moderate activism alleviates this tension through minor, voluntary changes. Voluntary commitments grant participants more initiative to take action. With that said, however, education regarding climate change impacts and potential for change needs to be advocated more and integrated into school curricula. Through cultivating a cooperative relationship between activism and the people, we allow ourselves more spaces to develop these changes. Changes could start small, such as going on a plant-based diet a few meals per week. Another fact about human beings is that albeit they’re slow at embracing changes, they’re quick at adapting to circumstances if they set their hearts to it. These seemingly miniscule changes quickly amount to something bigger: a snowball effect. In fact, after the first five days of my vegetarian week, I was able to go entirely vegan for the final two days; the transition felt much less challenging than I had anticipated (though still nowhere near easy). The greatest benefit of moderate activism, however, is that you can easily be a part of it. You don’t have to go fully vegan, become an expert in environmental science, or instigate protests. Just as I have done my vegetarian challenge, you can always find ways to strive for the greater cause by doing what you’re capable of. While you’re at it, invite your friends to do it with you and expand the cause to more people. If someone ever wants to opt out, let them be. But always leave an open door in case they change their minds.

On Sunday, February 16, 2025, the Linguistics Club invited guest speaker Peter Sokolowski, an editor at Merriam-Webster, to Deerfield. Interested in his work on the Word of the Day podcasts, the Linguistics Club sent him a cold email during the Fall Term and unexpectedly received his agreement to come to the Academy and deliver a speech.  Sokolowski presented on how people attach connotations of intelligence and wealth to words originating from French and Latin, as opposed to words with Anglo-Germanic roots. He also described the significant impact historical context has on English culture. He emphasized the usage of Latin words in strong legalistic documents, speeches, and the U.S. Constitution. He ended his speech by debunking common language and cultural myths of King Arthur and Robin Hood and the misuse of “literally” and “unique.” Mr. Sokolowski did not originally intend to become a dictionary editor. Before he started his career at Merriam-Webster, he was planning on getting a doctorate degree and becoming a professor of French. He said, “I have a special love for French. You know, obviously French is my first language. My partner is French, so we speak French at home.” Yet, his studies made him a prime candidate for his current role as an editor specializing in words with French origins. “I didn't know this was a job, even when it was advertised…and it's one of those things where I tripped into. It seems cool to people now, but it wasn't when I got the job” he recalled. One major project he worked on was creating The Word of the Day podcasts. After a rapid ascent in the popularity of the Word of the Day newspaper column, a marketing executive in Merriam-Webster suggested turning the project into a podcast. Initially reluctant to join, Mr. Sokolowski was persuaded after realizing that working on the project required a vast knowledge of linguistics and that having to check and train a marketer to speak "Latin, Greek and Old English, occasionally Celtic, Italian, and German,” he said, was “just not worth it.”  Despite his experience, he acknowledged the challenge of recording each word in one run, often making mistakes along the way. “Sometimes I just spell the damn word wrong. One time I was in Brazil, and someone wrote to me in the morning saying, “You forgot the ‘e’ in this [word].” And luckily, there's a guy in the office who knew someone who could edit it…There was one week in 2006 where I did every word in one take, the first time completely. And I've only done that once in 19 years,” Mr. Sokolowski recalled.   Language Teacher Brian Hunt enjoys the word of the day podcast because it helps him build his vocabulary and learn something new. “There is this desire to become a lifelong learner which Deerfield hopes to instill in students. And Merriam-Webster and the Word of the Day is one of those moments where you could almost learn something every single day just by listening to podcasts like that,” Mr. Hunt said.   While Mr. Sokolowski currently focuses on the French dictionary, he also serves as the spokesperson for Merriam-Webster, often attending news conferences, hosting public radio shows, and pronouncing the words for worldwide spelling bees. He explained why the dictionary needs a spokesperson, saying “Sometimes there are controversial questions that have to do with, say, gender identity or offensive terms. And I'll get a call from the New York Times or from NPR and we want that answer to be the same for whoever asks.” Nowadays, he views his job as “the storyteller of the dictionary.” Outside of his job, he is working on publishing a biography of the dictionary under the Saint Martin Press temporarily titled By Definition: The Cultural History of the Dictionary .  Sasha Diamond ’25 commented on how the topics Mr. Sokolowski chose to address and enabled him to learn about the vocabulary and richness of English. “I think his idea of English having multiple registers and almost like different sets of vocabulary was really interesting,” Diamond said. “We almost have two to three sets of adjectives or words to describe the same thing, whereas, in French or some other Romance languages that don't have the same amount of influence from external or loan words.” Diamonds further commented about how the presentation changed his view on the role of dictionaries. saying “I really didn't know how the dictionary worked or what the jobs of different dictionary editors were like, how it's been impacted by the internet which I guess we kind of take for granted, how the dictionary is just there. We don't think of all the work that goes into it, and it's very much an active process of compiling and defining.” Dr. Hunt commented on how passionate Mr. Sokolowski is in his field of work while delivering the captivating keynote, “I think when anybody shows their passion or sort of geek out, it is, always as an educator, exciting to see, because that's the thing that sort of got me into the field that I study, was seeing people who are impassioned, and he was clearly loves what he does.”  Dr. Hunt also expresses his desire for clubs and the Academy to welcome more linguists to deliver speeches. He suggests the possibility of welcoming Mr. Sokolowski back to campus and organizing a larger event in collaboration with the language department.

At 2 p.m. on Sunday, January 19, an expectant crowd of Deerfield students, faculty, and parents gathered in the concert hall for the annual Senior Concerto Competition. Seven seniors competed for the chance to perform a solo with the Deerfield Orchestra in the Homegrown Concert this spring. The four judges included the Visual and Performing Arts Chair, Catriona Hynds, Director of Music Tom Bergeron, and Choral Director Michael Pfitzer. As for the final judge, the music program selected a fresh set of ears to help with the judging process, with Head of School Dr. John Austin as an honorary judge. From a hat, the competitors drew numbers at random that would correspond to their order in the concert. Accompanied by Piano Studio Director Yu Mei-Wei the seniors performed a variety of pieces ranging from Copland to Mendelssohn to Mozart. Many audience members enjoyed the performace. Lucia Kinder ’28 watched the Senior Concerto, and she remarked, “As an audience member, I was really blown away by how distinct each of their styles were. She said, “If they didn’t have distinct enough styles, they could all blend together and kind of sound the same, but each person was so unique to themselves.” Out of the competing musicians, two seniors rose to the top to gain their titles as winners of the Senior Concerto Competition. “Coming to a decision was hard,” Dr. Austin said. In the end, the two winning musicians were Sophie Petronzio ’25 and Yoonsa Lee ’25. (Yoonsa is the Scroll’s Co-Managing Editor) Lee leads the Deerfield Academy Orchestra as principal violist and regularly appears in concerts playing solos or in quartets. However, she only first picked up the viola in her freshman year. “When I first entered the chamber music program, I had only played violin before,” Lee reflected, “Mr. Berner, the violin and viola teacher, thought it would be a good fit for me to try a viola. I didn’t expect it to carry me as far as it has.” Daphne Huang ‘25, another one of the competitors, commented on Yoonsa’s switch from violin to viola: “I think she’s a great violist and I think her sound fits the viola very, very well. It’s very warm, wide, so it gets a sunny vibe to the sound. And I think she has gorgeous, gorgeous tone.” Although the range of pieces for the viola is much more narrow than those for the violin, Lee has made the most of available viola pieces, one of them being Max Bruch’s “Romanze,” which she performed for the competition. Casted as the lead role in Alice by Heart last year and regularly performing in choral music performances, Petronizo has played a large role in the Deerfield’s performing arts scene. The piece Petronizo sang, “Laurie’s Song,” by Aaron Copland, resonated with her because it was about a girl graduating from high school and realizing the many opportunities ahead of her. “I’m a senior, getting to come back and realize how meaningful all of this has been,” Sophie said. Reflecting on her vocal journey at Deerfield, Sophie said that “I’ve been singing my whole life, but as far as classical [singing] and trying to take it more seriously, I would say that started my sophomore year of high school.” Sophie had previously sung in choirs, mostly singing pop or spiritual music, but never had taken vocal lessons sang musical theatre, or classical until arriving at Deerfield. “With pop music, it’s not something that you really are going to get emotional singing from,” she described. “But with classical music, there’s always such a definite goal in the way that every single note is placed, the length of a note, the type of chord just being played. Emotionally, I believe that classical music goes deeper.”

On October 23, amid growing energy across campus for the November presidential election, the Academic Affairs Office hosted the fourth annual Deerfield Forum. This open dialogue also served as the marquee event of the weeks-long “24 for ’24” election education series. The forum centered around the question: “How does the press shape American elections?” At the Forum, both Head of School Dr. John Austin and Dean of Academic Affairs Dr. Anne Bruder stressed the need for speakers who exhibited diverse perspectives. Ultimately, the team invited White House Reporter Annie Linskey, National Political Correspondent Meridith McGraw ’08, and New York University Journalism Professor Jay Rosen to the forum. As a correspondent for the political news website Politico, Ms. McGraw had followed President Donald Trump’s post-presidency and spoke as a guest in one of History and Social Department Chair Brian Hamilton’s classes. Dr. Bruder said, “We knew that she… could tailor her conversation to the interests of Deerfield students.” In contrast, Ms. Linskey covered Vice President Kamala Harris’ campaign, and Dr. Rosen is a prominent media critic. Hoping to capture the buzz around this significant election, forum organizers began solidifying plans in the spring and summer. Academic Affairs chose the forum question with the politically polarized nation in mind. Dr. Bruder explained, “It would not be particularly educational or productive to have a shouting match on stage with a Trump representative and a Harris representative.” In the end, the team settled on discussing issues around journalism. Dr. Bruder said, “By focusing on something like the press, we’re able to dig into the issues of polarization, of bias, of truth, of fact checking, of all these critically important questions without risking just a shouting match.” Mr. Hamilton also emphasized the importance of understanding the role of journalism in politics. “Press literally mediates our experience of the election,” he said. “American civic life runs better with strong institutions that have a good amount of public.” Moreover, Mr. Hamilton worried that United States citizens increasingly attacked and eroded trust in journalism. He hoped the Forum could foster that credibility by “giving Deerfield students a demystified sense of who reporters are, how they’re creating political news, what their goals are…and then start our criticisms, rather than slinging bows and arrows with ignorance.” In addition to hosting this event in the fall, Academic Affairs implemented other logistical changes that diverged from forums in past years. For one, Mr. Hamilton, not an external moderator, facilitated the conversation between the three speakers. According to Dr. Bruder, Mr. Hamilton “knows what matters to Deerfield students,” she said, “and has choreographed the conversation and the questions around those concerns.” Before the event, Mr. Hamilton collected student questions through a Google form and weaved select ones about social media, bias, and truth into the conversation. Previous forums had integrated questions with an open mic question and answer session, and forum organizers cut this Q&A in the interest of time. “Deerfield students asked brilliant, complicated and provocative questions…I am just gobsmacked at their sophistication,” Mr. Hamilton said in a Scroll interview. “We might not get as many of those questions than if we solicited them in advance and worked them more naturally into the conversation.” Dr. Bruder also recognized the benefit of the new question asking structure. She said, “In previous years, as soon as the Q&A started, we had really long lines of students up and down the rows, and it can be somewhat frustrating for students who are 25th in line and don’t get their question answered.” While the Google form streamlined question asking and granted students more time to craft their inquiries, some observed decreased engagement during the actual forum. Zavi Salomon-Fernandez ’25, who submitted a question about the existence of unbiased journalism, said, “It’s less engaging to not have been able to interact with the speakers themselves.” Students also attributed part of the diminished excitement to limited publicity leading up to the forum. Marco Feng ’26 said, “It was better last year, just in the sense that there was more engagement with the topic itself. But this year, there was not that much really about journalism at all, in terms of follow up before the forum and making students think about how to answer that question themselves.” Salomon-Fernandez reflected this sentiment, saying, “I wasn’t really excited for it [the forum] as much as I had before. The student skits and the student planning committee before probably made it more engaging.” Due to the tight timeline before the fall term event, no student group helped publicize and organize the forum. Dr. Bruder said, “Last year, we had a whole year to build programming and student engagement. This year, we solidified the contracts about a month ago, and so there just was far less time.” Mr. Hamilton acknowledged the difficulty in organizing student help in the planning process, saying, “The forum itself came together so late in the game that it didn’t make sense to try to pull students in.” Nonetheless, outside activities, including a Scroll debrief session on journalism, still enabled students to further engage with the forum and election programming. Jade Zimmerman ’25, who submitted a question about the impact of social media algorithms on free press, conversed with Science Teacher Rich Calhoun after the constructive dialogue. She said, “We talked about how different platforms can basically cater what people see based on their own biases and what they want people to see,” she said, “You have to always be aware of the biases you’re consuming.”

The student body’s first week in the Brick Dining Hall was marked by Wednesday lunch lines stretching out to the front steps, an insurgence of bumper carts, push-cart drifting, and line cutting like never seen before. There’s no worse feeling than wasting away in a stagnant line knowing your away game bus is leaving in ten minutes, only to get cut by ten people ahead each grabbing four slices of pizza, reminiscent of the dark days before the dining hall crackdown managed to systemize lines. Unfortunately, this feeling was ever more prevalent for students this past Wednesday, with historically slow lines for pizza stretching all the way from the kitchen to the entrance. It wasn’t just buffet lines that were disturbed by the new dining hall setup—the sit-down meal system has also received big changes. On Monday night, I gathered in the first floor common room with hallmates, reflecting on our first days working the job as first and second waiters. We were able to utilize our shared experience and draw an essential conclusion: the new bumper carts are a recipe for disaster. The slippery sheen of the dining hall floor, coupled with the cart wheels’ stiffness make for an unnecessarily difficult waiting experience. Thus, the job is usually a process of struggling to start the cart’s momentum, finally gaining enough momentum to inch forward, then being cut by someone Tokyo-drifting into the line in front of you. While these new systems certainly have their merits, the confusing waiting system for first and second waiters have made the pacing of sit-down meals markedly slower. On Monday, students and teachers were devastated to have arrived at third period almost fifteen minutes late. The following day, students were again terribly disappointed when they were released almost ten minutes late. Not only that, but the cleanliness of the dining hall was in decline early on in the week. Students would often leave sit-down and walk through meals without wiping down tables, leaving extra work for our devoted dining hall staff to carry out after long shifts in the kitchen. However, recent observations in the dining hall have shown improvement, both in the student body’s ability to navigate the new complex systems, as well as the responsibility demonstrated by students in keeping our dining hall clean. For the past few sitdown lunches, students have been punctually dismissed to afternoon classes following smoother first and second waiting experiences, especially thanks to the hard work of the napkin crew, kitchen staff, and Mr. Kelly’s direction. Not only that, but his recent speech about our community values and cleaning up after ourselves has inspired waves of students to step up as community members. The changes have been a testament to the character of the Deerfield community. In the face of a confusing new environment for our student body, rather than being quick to assign blame, has slowly but surely begun to find our footing in the exciting new dining hall. Discussions about difficult waiting jobs and strange metal clamps have evolved into excited chatter about the dining hall’s cleaner aesthetic, tastier food, and new waffle makers. It’s safe to say that after the initial shock and confusion of integrating a new space into our lives, the student body is more than ready to start giving back to the dining hall and treating it like the reliable anchor that it has and always will be.

On November 8, to commence the annual rivalry day, Deerfield Academy will host Choate Rosemary Hall, where athletic teams from both schools will compete to win the majority of their games. Known as “Choate Day” to Deerfield students and “Deerfield Day” to Choate students, the event brings students and faculty together to relish in a tradition that has lasted over a century. Some sports draw larger crowds of Deerfield students because of their exciting atmosphere; nonetheless, Deerfield’s students support their peers with the shared goal of beating Choate in mind. The volleyball gym is especially packed due to a smaller court size, the competing student sections adjacent to one another, and the student cheers. “The students go wild in the volleyball team's student section with many crazy, yet very creative, chants,” Annie Egleston ’27 shared. She observed that the energy brought to the student section “lights a fire in the players to perform at their best.” Egleston continued that much of Girls Varsity Volleyball’s success comes from the bond they have on the court. Furthermore, Plum Schiff ’27 attested to the unity of the team, admiring how “they all work and rely on each other.” She believes that the energy they bring to the game is what makes them “such a fun team to watch on Choate Day.” Captain of the Girls' Varsity Volleyball Harmoni Dobbins ’26 expressed her excitement for Choate Day, as this season has been one of their best with a record of 13 wins to one loss. Dobbins looks forward to the match against Choate, saying, “I am so excited to see where the rest of the season takes us [Varsity Volleyball] and especially excited for Choate Day!” Adannia Okpokwasili ’27 mentioned that the Girls Varsity Soccer game “is always a good game.” As a player on the Girls’ Junior Varsity Soccer team, Okpokwasili was inspired by the elevated skill level that the Varsity team plays at, stating that “all the players are so talented.” Meryl Gilbert ’27, a player on the Girls’ Varsity Soccer Team, described her team as “a team with constant energy and determination.” Gilbert believes her teammates can “play to the level of any team we [Girls Varsity Soccer] want, especially Choate. I’m so excited to see what happens and am positive it’s going to be a super fun and competitive game.” Sharing a similar passion for soccer, in addition to managing Girls Thirds Soccer, Emmanuel Atiegha ’27 enjoys watching Boys Varsity Soccer on Choate Day, “not just because it’s great to see Deerfield beat Choate, but [because] it’s also great to see excellent sportsmanship and teamwork that a sport like soccer develops in action.

From the Vietnam drafts of the 1970s, nuclear threat of the late ‘80s, and Middle Eastern crisis of the early ‘90s, international war of the late 20th century marked eras of the nation—and eras of Deerfield .  The Cold War began between the United States and the Soviet Union in the aftermath of WWII and reached its peak during the Cuban Missile Crisis of the ‘60s, the closest nuclear threat came to turning into warfare. The Cold War continued until the fall of the Iron Curtain in 1989, but throughout the ‘70s, national attention shifted to the Vietnam War—a proxy war between North and South Vietnam. Former Deerfield History and Religion Teacher Michael Cary saw the early-to-mid 1970s as a “distinctly anti-institutional period,” while anti-Vietnam war movements spread across American college campuses. He found that the student body’s attitude mirrored national interest and perspective: at the time, he said, the Deerfield boys were “rowdy and rebellious.” By 1976, military reputation had sunk. Former Deerfield English Teacher Mark Scandling, who served in the Army for four years on a chemical weapons base, described the fall in military pride after Vietnam, and the shame of wearing a military uniform.  The focus on the Cold War, then, was low, said Steve Carr Davis ‘80, who came to Deerfield at the end of Vietnam. “The country was exhausted,” Mr. Cary said. But after his election in 1981, Ronald Reagan’s presidency aimed to place the military back at the forefront of the United States and encouraged a strong pro-American ideology. “The mood changed on campus when the mood changed in the country, and that was with the election of President Reagan … he promised a new, more vital, more confident, and stronger America,” Mr. Cary said.  At Deerfield, Mr. Davis remembered discussion around current events, in particular the Iranian hostage crisis of 1979, when 66 Americans were taken hostage at the United States Embassy in Iran. Every Thursday, the school would have an international news update, informed by newspapers such as the New York Times  and the Washington Post . He added that the majority of the student body subscribed to paper newspapers, and the school also held a mock convention every four years in parallel to the national election. Classes were canceled for three days, and groups of students would represent the candidates of the party up for primary election. To stay informed, both the student body and the Academy had to actively integrate current events into conversation in and outside of the classroom.  In the late 1980s, nuclear threat hung over Deerfield and over the nation, Edward Harvey ‘88 described. “It’s hard to explain to people who haven’t lived through it, but there was this sense that any day we were going to die from a nuclear war,” said Mr. Harvey, who currently works at a classified facility after spending 24 years as a lieutenant colonel in the Air Force. When he was at Deerfield, the Young Republicans club stood at the center of social dialogue, but he and other students also formed STOP, the Students and Teachers Organization to Prevent Nuclear War, and protested on Boston Common to advocate for the end of nuclear threat.  Mr. Harvey also traveled to the Soviet Union in the spring of 1987 through a Deerfield travel program and spoke with Russian students. “What was eye opening for me was … realizing they [the Soviet students] didn't want nuclear war either. And in America, we kind of thought the Soviets wanted to kill us,” he said, adding, “I think that cultural alienation … drove a lot of the animosity and the fear that existed between the two countries.” The Cold War was coming to an end. In 1989, then-President Reagan met with General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union Mikhail Gorbachev in Reykjavík, Iceland. In the next year, the Soviet Union split into a series of independently-governed countries, ending the Cold War.  Regan’s Americanism of the late 80s spread into the early 90s with the beginning of the first Gulf War. “The entire emphasis changed from a focus on the Soviet Union to a focus on the Middle East,” Mr. Cary said. The first Gulf War began with the United States’ bombing of Baghdad, Iraq in 1991. At the time, the student body remained conservative, Mr. Scandling remembered, and for the most part, firmly in favor of President George H.W. Bush’s bombing of Iraq. “I was in Barton the first night when we were bombing Baghdad, and it was like a football game… boys were sitting in the lot in the common room, cheering as Wolf Blitzer was reporting from downtown Baghdad,” he said.   “The new point student viewpoint was distinctly pro-American; they thought that President George H.W. Bush had absolutely done the right thing,” Mr. Cary said. He added that students would chant “USA,” a cheer that originated in the Winter Olympic Games of 1980 against the Soviet hockey team, in the dining hall. Boys would dare each other to enlist and ask each other if they had the courage to fight, Mr. Scandling described. Soon, however, Scud missiles started to land in Aramco, Saudi Arabia, where a few students at the time were from. “That same space that had been full of tears two nights earlier … suddenly was solemn and quiet beyond belief, because the nature of the war became closer to home,” Mr. Scandling said. As Mr. Cary described, the introduction of girls in 1989 brought moderation and diversity of perspective. The faculty, too, brought in a handful of guest speakers during the first Gulf War to provide an anti-war perspective, which riled up the student body. “The other side of the story is Iraq has missiles too, and some Americans might die,” Mr. Scandling said. Through the Vietnam War and into the early 90s, the decision to fight remained at the forefront of many boys’ minds—and throughout Vietnam, in particular, the decision hung over Deerfield boys, and boys across the country. “Those were pretty serious conversations… the moral test that you would face as a young person at your age, 17 or 18,” Mr. Scandling said.  “Imagine the seniors at Deerfield having to make that choice now,” he added.

At Deerfield Academy, the phrase “the test will be curved” spreads through the halls like a quiet sigh of relief. It means that even if the exam felt impossibly hard, a few missed points might not matter after all. To many students, curving a test may seem like an act of generosity. If the class average was low, everyone benefits from a boost, and the pressure of a poor score is somewhat softened. The practice of curving grades may look fair, yet when we examine closely, it disguises what fairness truly means. Fairness, in education, should mean that every student is evaluated by the same transparent standards and has a clear chance to succeed based on effort and understanding. When curving enters the picture, however, that definition starts to blur. What feels like kindness at the moment carries long term costs for students and teachers alike. Curving distorts the meaning of fairness, weakens the quality of assessment, and replaces self reflection. The most immediate problem with curving is that it distorts the accuracy of feedback. Students at the top and bottom both lose clarity. At Deerfield, curves simply raise everyone’s grades by varying amounts. While this may seem equitable, it erases the distinctions that honest feedback depends on. When everyone’s score is lifted, the difference between excellence and adequate begins to blur. A “good grade” stops feeling earned, it becomes a collective comfort for a group of students rather than an individual achievement. Without the tension of honest results, students lose not only clarity about their performance, but also the motivation to learn and strive for better. Curving also masks weaknesses in teaching and assessment. When an exam proves unexpectedly difficult or misaligned, a curve becomes a convenient fix. But this band-aid solution conceals the deeper problem; students are being evaluated unfairly. Instead of rethinking the exam design, clarifying expectations, or adjusting the teaching approach, teachers can rely on a curve to smooth over flaws. In doing so, students lose the chance to engage with well-constructed, meaningful assessments that accurately reflect their understanding. Education deserves clear expectations and fair assessments, not some sort of temporary fix. Defenders of curving may argue that it cushions students against unfair assessments, and occasionally, that defense holds. A curved test offers some temporary relief without addressing the actual issue of whether the exam measured what it was intended to measure. True fairness isn’t achieved from numerical manipulation; it comes from transparency and communication. Teachers could revise ambiguous questions, award partial credit where confusion was justified, or invite reflection and revision. Such methods preserve integrity because they actually address the cause rather than the consequence of unfair difficulty. This issue extends beyond the Deerfield classroom. Many Deerfield courses are designed to prepare students for AP exams, which themselves are graded on a national “curve,” where a raw score near 70% can earn a top score of 5. This external system trains both students and teachers to normalize the curve, accepting it as part of their academic journey. In that sense, curving inside the classroom may be less a reflection of a single teacher and more a symptom of a broader educational structure built on norm referenced evaluation. But perhaps the clearest way to see the psychological cost of curving is through the mindset it encourages. After a difficult exam, many students cling to a single hope, a possibility of a curve. The curve becomes some sort of a safety net, a whispered promise saying that their mistakes won’t matter. It also feels comforting, while allowing for avoidance. Instead of reviewing errors, instead of seeking help or changing study habits, the student hopes passively for leniency rather than improvement. In this moment, the curve shifts responsibility away from the learner and onto chance, training students to depend on generosity rather than growth. When we start wishing for a curve instead of striving to do better, we give up on our own learning. This inner reliance is what makes curving so dangerous. Over time, it conditions students to equate progress with luck, not effort. The thought process becomes, “I do not need to master this now, for the curve will save me,” breeding a kind of resignation and a sense of complacency. While not every student adopts this mindset, the system as a whole encourages passivity; students who are trapped in this mindset are robbed of the satisfaction that comes from real improvement and mastery of the material. In the end, curving may appear generous, but in the long term, it reshapes education into a system offering comfort over clarity, making it a disservice to students. A fair test should reveal what a student knows, not conceal what they do not. If schools truly wish to support growth, they should cultivate transparency, design thoughtful assessments, and engage in open dialogue about difficulty. If we truly value fairness, we must define it not as equal results, but as the equal opportunity to see the truth and improve upon our current.

Deerfield Academy’s collection of paintings and drawings is located in the Flynt Center of Early New England Life on 37 Old Main Street. The exhibition highlights works of art from the Academy’s collection, many of which have not been displayed for public view in years. Deerfield Academy holds a rich collection of American art ranging from colonial American portraiture to early 20th-century modernist art pieces. Many of the artworks, which were located in the neighboring town of Greenfield, belonged to Rowena Russell Potter, and were given to the Academy in 1960 to honor her father, Charles P. Russell. Potter built a lasting resource for the Academy’s art education by assembling a collection that chronicled the history of American art. Her acquisitions aligned with the growing interest in American art that emerged during World War II. Simultaneously, she donated her collection of American decorative arts to Historic Deerfield. The Academy’s collection includes a “who’s who” of American art across the centuries, and the exhibition showcases diverse artistic styles and themes throughout American history. Eighteenth-century British colonial artists like John Singleton Copley and Benjamin West created portraits of early colonists and landscapes, which reflects the continued connection to England. Following the American Revolution, figures such as Charles Willson Peale depicted the burgeoning republic through his visual representation of the new nation. After the Civil War began, Eastman Johnson used realistic genre scenes and everyday portrayals to comment on the country’s social changes. Artists William H. Beard and John F. Peto also delved into these themes through their animal and still-life paintings. While at the Flynt Center, Graphic Editor and Head Layout Editor for the Scroll Ryan Bai ’26, who visited the gallery along with his Art and Drawing co-curricular class, went to the second floor to observe other fine decorative arts, including New England furniture and clocks, American power horns, Chinese export porcelain, and a variety of pottery. He stated, “The exhibition captures the essence of the historic Deerfield energy, reminding me of a lifestyle that was once prevalent on this land.” Jonathan Xu ’28, who also visited the exhibition, added, “The exhibit gave me a deeper understanding of the history of Deerfield and the culture and history of colonial America. I was greatly intrigued by the Deerfield showcase since I never knew our school had such a vast collection of artworks.” The art collections are arranged in more than 80 glass cases, with takeaway handouts on the subject of English glass, Japanese furniture, Fakes and Forgeries, and English delftware. Inside the cases, there is information on each piece, but accessing the information on Historic Deerfield’s database is also an option. Xu added, “the installation displays collections of objects that have rarely been shown to the public, which is what makes it so unique.” Historic Deerfield’s exhibition brings together a rich assemblage of Deerfield Academy’s American paintings and drawings to explore the narratives of artists who shaped art history before World War I. When asked about the takeaways from visiting the Flynt Center, Bai expressed, “The historic aspect of the exhibition challenges my understanding of my place in this world. It definitely inspired me to explore Western traditional portrait paintings and furniture as a potential direction for my next artwork.” Similarly, Xu noted that the collection of artworks was a representation of Deerfield's history and the portraits provided him with inspiration for future paintings.

As a child, Lynn Sung ’26 was the only member of her family to play an instrument. After switching from the piano to the violin, Sung initially displayed little enthusiasm towards her new instrument. However, Sung’s passion began to grow over time as she watched other musicians perform. “One day, my mom showed me a bunch of videos of famous violinists…they were always playing with closed eyes, and really feeling the music,” she said. “I decided to close my own eyes like they did, and soon I found myself getting immersed in the music… that’s when I knew that I was interested in the violin.” Sung moved to the United States at the age of sixteen to begin her freshman year at Deerfield, where she joined the Deerfield Orchestra and Chamber Music class. At the same time, Sung enrolled in the Juilliard Pre-College to advance her violin studies, balancing her Deerfield classes during the week with Juilliard coursework during the weekends. The constant commuting between Deerfield and New York, often taking up to three hours by car, has been part of Sung’s routine since her freshman year. “Honestly, it caused a lot of stress, because I don't really have time to spend with my friends, or on campus, or doing my homework,” Sung explained. “My entire Saturday is basically Juilliard— I'm taking music theory, ear training, chamber, orchestra, and private lessons. It’s really not that interesting, but it does help a lot with violin.” Despite the demands of her schedule, Sung appreciates the time she spends in New York. “Being in New York is fun, and it’s a privilege that I can go there every weekend,” she remarked. “You get good food, and it’s just a nice change of pace from Deerfield.” Over the years, Sung has worked to reconcile the competitive and artistic aspects of music. “Music is mostly about competition, and once you reach a certain level, you need to show the public how good you are and confront how other people view you as a musician,” she explained. “For a long time, this competition caused a lot of anxiety for me, and I had a hard time practicing or listening to music because of that.” Sung noted that her relationship with music has evolved, thanks in part to the support she received from Deerfield. “Having lessons with [Ensemble Coach and Music Lesson Instructor] Mr. Berner really helped me to love music again, apart from being acknowledged and getting compliments,” she said. “He taught me how to view music itself as a different thing from competition.” Sung also credited the Chamber Music program with broadening her perspective, acknowledging that, “Chamber definitely helped me by enlarging my musical spectrum. Last year, I tried playing viola for the first time in the chamber group, which really helped me understand the structure of music and the communication between different instruments.” Sung’s dedication and skill have not gone unnoticed by members of the Deerfield community. “It impresses me how she makes so much sound—deep sound," fellow violinist Naomi Kim ’28 said. "Even in practice rooms, where sound doesn't resonate, [Sung's] playing still sounds beautiful and full of emotion, even when she practices casually. I think this shows how much work she’s put into her playing over the years and how seriously she takes playing the instrument.” Kim also described Sung’s leadership and presence in their chamber group. “[Sung] is so fun during chamber class and she always adds to the fun environment," she said, "but [Sung] also completely focuses when we need to, leading our string quartet as the first violin.” When asked about a memorable moment in her musical career, Sung recalled a concert in her sophomore year as a particularly memorable moment in her music career, when a member of the audience began to cry while listening to her performance. “That feeling was very fulfilling,” she said. “To know that your own performance can impact someone on such a personal level really encouraged me.” Looking toward the future, Sung spoke about her plan to pursue both music and psychology during her time in college. “I hope I can play music forever, because it is an important part of who I am.”

Currently hanging on the first floor of the Hess Center for Arts is the Post-AP Studio Art class 's most recent art project entitled, “Hand Paintings.” Spanning the course of several weeks, students engaged in a thoughtful process of learning how to transfer the intricacies of the human hand onto paper. The “Hand Paintings” centers around the illustration of the human hand, aiming to represent a variety of themes such as time, broken promises, or friendships. As the second major fall-term assignment in the Fall Term for the Post-AP class, this project allowed students to begin working from direct observation and later expand upon them with their own ideas. Visual and Performing Arts Teacher Mercedes Taylor, who assigned the project, emphasized that her main goal was to teach the students the importance of process in creating art. “When you see a finished piece, you know, it’s hard to see all the work that has gone behind, from beginning to think of an idea and having a conceptual layer," she said. Starting from lessons of simply observing one’s palms, Mrs. Taylor directed students to focus on the various shapes and contours that make up the human hand, challenging them to synthesize the way they see the composition of space. Later on, students expanded their range of inspiration as they started to engage with works of different artists such as Käthe Kollwitz and Charles Wright, analyzing the way these artists use hands to express emotions, implementing these techniques to works of their own. When starting the drawing phase, Mrs. Taylor urged her students to focus on the question: “What do you want your hands to express?” Stemming from this inquiry, they developed their sketches into pieces of art that aligned with their creative ideas. Students in the class experimented with ideas ranging from familial relationships to the portrayal of time, sometimes combining the two. Allegra Sandell ’27, a student in the class, described her piece as a coming of age story. “There is a mother’s hand holding on to the hand of a baby in the bottom of the painting, and then an adolescent hand reaching for a stopwatch that is being held onto by an older hand.” Although these paintings focus primarily on the use of charcoal and pencil graphite, Mrs. Taylor hopes that students can still wrestle with artistic choices within this drawing medium. “Once they go through the lessons of drawing hands, seeing the works of other artists, and then practicing," said Mrs. Taylor. "You are driving the ideas and the composition. You are deciding which materials to use.” She further explained that “students are now independent and also feel they own their work.” Coming from the precursory AP studio art class, these students are very experienced with how to use graphite and charcoal, especially on smaller pieces. Upon reflection, Sandell shared that the most technically challenging aspect of this project was technical – capturing the nuanced details of the human hand was demanding, saying, “it was challenging to draw all the little details on a hand because there are so many small pieces. Specifically shading and making the wrinkles on the hand look as realistic as possible.” Mrs. Taylor hopes that the students walk away from the project with affirmation that they can finish anything they set their mind to. Upon starting this project, students were stepping into new territory, challenging themselves beyond their comfort zone. “They have some ideas, they have the tools, but they don’t know exactly from where they start and where exactly they are going to finish,” said Mrs. Taylor. Through this assigm,, students had to learn how to manage these uncertainties and how to stick with their ideas every step of the process. Upon completion, these hand paintings became an addition to students' art portfolio. Mrs. Taylor expressed her hope that students will carry this mentality in future art projects, and reflected on the purpose of building art portfolios. She said, “throughout the years, we build art portfolios so that they can go back to those portfolios and say, 'I did it once, I can do it again," said Mrs. Taylor, who hopes students carry thi smentality in future art projects.

Dear Reader, My experience collaborating with Choate on our last issue was awful. Hopefully, you know what I’m talking about: it’s the one with the green borders that we scattered around campus on Choate Day. To put it bluntly, Choate’s communication was awful. I felt like Choate’s EIC didn’t have the authority to decide their own article due dates, send-to-print, or distribution dates without communicating with us. This led to many conversations that got us nowhere and led to their advisor stepping in and disrupting our schedule last minute. Additionally, I felt backstabbed by their editorial board. For our eight-page collaborative issue, I agreed to allocate Choate four pages and Deerfield three if the front page could highlight the Scroll’s 100th anniversary. The front page I received from their layout team didn’t have a single word dedicated to our special year—I was told they forgot. Anyway, we redid the layout ourselves. Not only was this issue the most tortuous one I’ve gone through at the helm of the Scroll, it was also a special issue that I envisioned, enticed by the prospect of bringing excitement to Choate Day and the Scroll. Thus, when I was going through difficulties trying to make this issue go through to print, I occasionally thought to myself: This isn’t part of my responsibilities as EIC. It’s giving me a headache. Why am I even doing this issue? In December—the gloomiest month of the year according to NAMI Guilford, a mental health organization based in North Carolina—it is easy to fall into this cyclical and depressive train of thought. As seasonal depression peaks and final projects and assessments overwhelm you in December, you might think to yourself: why am I even trying this hard in school? You might think your future is bleak. You might lose hope. Please don’t. Think about the upcoming holiday season. Think about spending time with your friends and family, laughing around a dinner table. Or do something else that gives you motivation, gives you hope. Frankly, I don’t care what you do, but I hope that you’ll do something to ground yourself, put your struggles in perspective, realize they are small in the grand scheme of life and that you’ll get through them. Prioritize finding any source of meaning to what you are doing, and chase it. In the case of the Scroll, I wished to see students and alumni and new readers appreciate us and this unique issue, to tell me that they were interested in what they saw and couldn’t wait for the next issue to be published. And seeing Michael, Tai, Jack, Maggie, Tucker, Declan, and Lalwani, amongst others, all reach out to me and compliment both the way our issue was laid out and the articles within, I would do this issue again, 100 times over. Even if you are perfectly fine in December, things are going well for you, and you are excited for the upcoming holidays, reach out to your friends and family. Let them know you are there for them. Many times, those struggling silently are also going through the deepest shit, and you just being present can do so much more for them than you could ever know. For seniors especially, this is our last Turkey Term. And I know for most of us, especially myself, we’ve been consumed by a fixation with college decisions, academics, extracurriculars, and friendships. This is all okay, and even natural. Yet I hope that you will also take a step back and reflect upon your "finite Deerfield days, during which you’ll inevitably realize it’s coming to an end. So instead of wishing for this period of uncertainty over your next four years to speed up, hope that it will slow down, that you can check out another bucket list item before you graduate. To all of Deerfield, stay strong, stay happy, and stay united. I’m confident we’ll get through this seasonal depression and be better than ever, together. Yours in Service, John Qi Liu