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CELINE CHANG/DEERFIELD SCROLL A bagpiper leads the Varsity Boys Lacrosse team through the Jim Smith field before every game. This 35-year tradition was initiated by Eric Goodchild, a former music teacher and bagpiper at Deerfield Academy. His music career led him to use his specialty on the athletic fields, influencing players of multiple generations in different ways. Goodchild (1960-2025) was a homegrown Massachusetts bagpiper born in Pelham and raised in Shelburne, where he and his wife Barbara later lived and operated the Barberic Farm. Alongside his work at the farm, Goodchild became known throughout western Massachusetts for his work as a musician and instructor, teaching bagpipes to students and performing at local ceremonies, parades, athletic events, and community gatherings. His involvement with traditional Scottish music extended across decades. Goodchild was also featured in The Greenfield Recorder, a news publication in Greenfield, where he discussed his experience as a bagpipe performer. “It gives me a lot of pleasure when I get a chance to play for other folks,” he said. Goodchild worked with students, teaching music and introducing them to the history and traditions surrounding the instrument itself. Through lessons and performances, he shared aspects of Scottish musical culture with younger generations across western Massachusetts. In 1991, he brought the tradition of bagpipes to Deerfield and introduced the practice of a bagpiper leading the Boys’ Lacrosse team onto the field before games. At the Academy, the bagpiper became tied to the opening moments of lacrosse games and the beginning of each season. Similar to the school chant “Aga-chi,” the music became part of the atmosphere surrounding Deerfield athletics and school customs. Over time, the tradition became associated with senior games and major matches throughout the season. Players said the tradition remains impactful today, emphasizing the team spirit within each player on the team. Caleb Regner ’27, a new player on the Boys’ Varsity Lacrosse team, said, “It fired me up the first time I heard it. I think it gives us an extra mental edge…. It makes you think about all of the people that have gone through this program, and you throw on that jersey, not just for you, but for everyone that’s ever worn it.” Regner added that the team has discussed continuing the tradition by encouraging students to learn the instrument themselves. “We’re trying to get Giacomo Chapman ’26 to learn the bagpipes,” Regner said, “but it’s a struggle.” He also mentioned that programs such as University of Notre Dame have traditions involving student-athletes performing the bagpipe before games, something he thought could strengthen participation in the tradition at Deerfield and “bring [the team] closer together.” Other students connected the bagpipes to a sense of school identity and tradition. Olivia Port ’26 shared how she felt about the bagpiper during Lacrosse games: “I think it just makes me feel so much more connected to Deerfield, and makes you want to play just that little bit harder.” While the bagpiper had a positive impact on many students, the tradition also raised a concern for others. The bagpiper appears regularly at most Boys’ Lacrosse games, playing the woodwind instrument before the start of each match. However, Port observed that “they've only been at one Girls’ Lacrosse game”, noting an “inequality” within this tradition. Eleanor DuPont ’26, a current player on the Girls' Varsity Lacrosse team, offered her perspective on this issue. “The girls get the bagpiper once for their senior game, which is towards the end of the season,” she said, “so I feel like it doesn't really have that much of an effect on our team.” Despite the stronger association of this tradition with the Boys’ Varsity Lacrosse team, it brought joy to the girls and all members. DuPont said, “It’s just something fun.”

Deerfield Academy’s rowing program has seen a noticeable shift in size and intensity this season, as athletes and coaches observed a larger roster and more competitive training environment across boats. According to Boys’ Rowing Head Coach Mr. Spencer Washburn, interest in rowing has steadily increased across campus, as he pointed to both the program’s recent success and the experience students have within the team as contributing factors. “There has been an increasing interest in the sport over the last few years,” he explained. While some athletes have perceived a rise in competitiveness this season, Mr. Washburn sees it differently. “I have seen an uptick in interest and sign-up numbers, but I think that the level of competitiveness is consistent with previous years,” he explained. Instead, he described a team made up of students with varying motivations. “There are many members of the program who have high ambitions for themselves and the team…There are others who want to be part of this experience. This combination is leading to the sport’s growth.” The program itself started relatively late in the school’s history. According to Boys’ Rowing Assistant Coach Mr. Morris, rowing did not exist at Deerfield until the 1980s, when students pushed for its creation. “It began as a student initiative,” he said. In recent years, the program has expanded significantly. Mr. Morris described this year as having one of the largest participations since he began working with the team in 2016-2017. “We’ve never had so many boys come out for the squad, and we’ve never had so many rowers on the water,” he said. Where the team once fielded “barely six boys fours,” he observed that there are now “a full six boys eights rowing,” with additional athletes training on land due to limited boat capacity. Moreover, Mr. Morris added that the increase in participation reflects the program’s accessibility. “This year marks a high-water mark for accessibility and inclusion,” he said, crediting Mr. Washburn for maintaining what he described as a “philosophy of keeping rowing open to anyone who wants to try the sport.” At the same time, the larger roster has introduced new challenges. Mr. Washburn explained that as the team grows in both size and ability, determining boat lineups has become more complex. “We have more people of comparable ability on the team, which means there are more who deserve the opportunity to row in any given boat,” he said. Coaches must weigh “fitness, technique, compatibility with others, and racing ability,” making lineup decisions increasingly difficult. For student-athletes, this environment can feel more competitive, especially at the top levels of the team. Senior Captain Rob Callender ’26 described how the increase in numbers has intensified competition for both rowers and coxswains. “The sheer number of kids makes it pretty competitive,” he said, noting that some athletes’ aspirations to row in college can raise the stakes further.. The role of college recruitment, however, remains limited in shaping the overall culture. Mr. Washburn acknowledged that “it [college recruitment] likely plays a role,” but emphasized that it is not the primary motivation. “Rowing is a hard sport and to be part of the team for more than just a season there has to be a love for the sport,” he said. Additionally, he explained that the program aims to be “transformational, not transactional,” with students investing in their development and in the team. “Not all of our students will row in college, but they still want to be part of the team…for all of their Deerfield years,” said Mr. Washburn. Callender reiterated this idea from a student perspective, noting that while some may begin rowing with college recruitment in mind, keeping that effort requires deeper motivation. Without that, he said, “it’s going to be really hard…to find fulfillment in it, to ultimately do really well.” Newer members of the team also experience this balance between intensity and inclusivity. Helena Katska ’28, a new sophomore, described the team as a place where athletes can approach the sport with different goals. “Some people take it very seriously…and some people just do it for fun,” she said. “Everyone has their goal in this sport.” Another central priority for the program is maintaining accessibility, even as interest grows. “We remain committed to the idea that rowing is something that everyone should have the opportunity to try,” Mr. Washburn said. At the same time, he acknowledged the challenges of balancing a wide range of abilities and ambitions, calling it “tricky,” but supported by coaches and student leadership who aim to keep the team “a welcoming and inclusive place for everyone.” Despite the increased pressure in certain areas, several team traditions and culture remain consistent. Callendar described moments like cheering for other boats during workouts as creating a shared sense of purpose. “4V makes 3V better, 3V makes 2V better, and so on,” he said. Katska mentioned smaller traditions, including the “evergreen jacket,” a jacket given to a member who displays the best team spirit, “Fun Fridays,” and informal moments such as dancing in the locker room during warm-ups. Beyond daily practices and competition, Mr. Washburn added that team culture remains a central focus of the program. “The culture of our team is a priority each season,” he said, noting that while some athletes bring results-oriented goals, the program consistently values “commitment, discipline, the ability to receive and implement feedback, and a willingness to push yourself.” Looking ahead to the season, Mr. Washburn defines success less by race outcomes and more by the quality of student experience. “I think success looks like students having a positive experience because of their participation,” he said, pointing to relationships as key factors. While early indicators from training are promising, as Mr. Morris noted, performance on the water will ultimately determine results. As participation continues to grow, the program strives to balance accessibility, competitiveness, and a team culture shaped by a wide range of goals. In Mr. Washburn’s words, “we all have an obligation to leave the team better than we found it.”

COURTESY OF DEERFIELD COMMUNICATIONS This summer, Assistant Softball Coach Becca Melvoin worked with the Director of Athletics and the Co-Curricular Program Bob Howe to bring in a new head coach with club-level experience. The change was intended to better match the level of competition the team faces. Dr. Melvoin said, “I absolutely love coaching this team, but someone who had coached club softball was going to be a better fit because we are playing against a lot of teams who have that resource. So it was only fair to the players that we had a coach that could do that for the team.” Head Coach Bryon Fuller joined Deerfield this spring as the Softball Varsity Head Coach, and with him and the athletes, the team has become “more confident” as captain Vic’Kaysha Rivera ’26 said. “Because we’re confident, we’re playing so much better. We know we’re a team that can win,” she added, comparing their current record of 3-5 to the records from previous years, which were: 2-8 and 3-10 in 2024-25 and 2023-24 respectively. Rivera, as a four-year senior on the team, also emphasized that, apart from the record itself, “watching [the team] play, we could see we have so much more grit and willingness to compete. We’re not beating ourselves down anymore.” One of the factors that contributed to the team’s strength this year was the coaching and practice structure provided by Coach Fuller. Dr. Melvoin said he has helped the team with “a lot of hitting drills and is willing to play small ball and try new things. He’s pretty aggressive on the base path.” Rivera said that practices now seem to have a singular focus. Instead of rushing different focuses and aspects of the sport into one day, now they “dedicate a day to fielding [vs. hitting, defense vs. offense].” Coach Bryon has also been creating a good balance between “fun and structure” as well as helping the new athletes while going harder on the more experienced recruits according to Nicole Lefavour ’27. In past years, the softball team witnessed a distinct gap between experienced and less experienced athletes trying out the sport for the first time. Lefavour felt that over the years, that gap has lessened and that this year the team has “progressed a lot … even the people with not as much experience, [we’re] trying to help them up and it’s easier to help them with the new coach and there being less of them.” Student leadership has also impacted the growth of the softball program at the Academy. Dr. Melvoin said that part of the new confidence comes from the student leaders on the team like captain Maggie Garbarino ’27 and Lauren Mrowka ’27. “Those two, they know the game, they played the game at such a high level, that when they offer tips, it helps other players, players are listening.” One memorable moment from the season that several members of the team pointed out was the match against Choate Rosemary Hall on April 11, 2026. In this match, Choate started with a 5-0 lead. But Deerfield “kept chipping away,” according to Dr. Melvoin, tying at the top of the seventh inning. Though Deerfield lost this match 6-7, their play led the opponent’s coach to compliment the team. Dr. Melvoin said, "Even one of their assistant coaches said that ‘You played with way more heart than our team did. In some ways you deserve to win this game. Your team acts like a team, and it’s clear they love each other and they play like they do.’” Lefavour said that this game “was one of the most fun games that we watched and we really came together as a team.” Another factor contributing to the team’s growing strength is the team culture that they are cultivating. The team had a trip to IMG Academy in Bradenton, Florida with the baseball team before the start of the season. This was the first time the softball team trained in this facility. There, they were able to foster relationships and, for newer athletes, learn more about softball. Rivera said, “We really established a bond right there on the trip. I could tell it was going to be a family.” Deandre Ortiz, the second assistant coach for softball, emphasized the growth of the team. Dr. Melvoin said, “The fact that everyone’s coming back next year just makes it so they’re even stronger.” In fact, the team will only lose one senior this year. As the only graduating senior, Rivera said, “It’s amazing to see how much we’ve grown, especially I can see over four years. It’s really rewarding to have a group of girls that love the sport as much as I do.” Joining softball was a new experience for her and she’s learned to love “that team spirit” and “being a part of something bigger than [herself],”. Dr. Melvoin wants the community to know that the team is better than what their records show. “Even though we’re three and four. We are not a sleeper team, we’re there, we’ve got real players. [I want to tell people] not to look past us,” she said.

The Scroll, for many of those involved, is more than just a club. It is a seemingly limitless dedication towards the singular goal of producing a coherent, interesting, and thoughtful issue. It is the textbook definition of a labor of love. Board members spend their time collaborating with staff writers to strengthen their articles, laying out issues on ancient computers in the Kendall basement, conducting interviews, and close reading every article in every issue to make sure no wayward commas make their way into the final print. Below are the reflections of all the editors who have given their time, their labor, and most importantly, their love to the Scroll over the course of their Deerfield careers. John Liu Editor-in-Chief When I think back to the greatest aspiration I had for the Scroll back at the start of my tenure as Editor-in-Chief in April, it was to increase our readership, so that more students and teachers alike would interact with our paper. After seven print runs, three special issues, two school meeting appearances, nine podcasts, and over 200+ hours logged in the basement of the Kendall Building, I can confidently say that we’ve achieved a greater presence on campus. To this end, there are several people I need to acknowledge. First, to my managing editors, John W., Joanna, and Karen. Thank you so much for sharing your talents, ideas, and visions with the Scroll this year. To John, for your exceptional writing skills and initiative; to Joanna, for being a fantastic planner and troubleshooter; and to Karen, for painstakingly laying the foundation of the Scroll’s digital presence for generations to come. I could not have dreamed of having better people by my side in the 100th year of the Scroll. Second, to the rest of the seniors on my board: Evelyn, Melody, Josie, and John C. To Evelyn, for radiating energy and positivity whenever you stepped into the Scroll room; to Melody, for your quiet leadership and constant willingness to help; to Josie, for your creativity and steadfast quality; and to John C., for your passion and determination in leading the Buzz page, words fail to express my thanks. To our advisors, Mr. Romick and Mr. Twilley, thank you for your unwavering support of student journalism and excellence in the face of any and all challenges. The countless hours you spend copy-editing issues of the Scroll, facilitating meetings with administrators, or even debating with us on moral dilemmas demonstrate the true magnitude of knowledge, instruction, and care you provide us. You inspire me to replicate that with future generations. To Ms. Creagh, Dr. Bruder, and Ms. Westman, thank you for everything you do behind the scenes to ensure the Scroll’s success. From coordinating interviews with administrators to allow us access to the most important, pressing news on campus, to reading over every single one of our articles with our future interests in mind, I truly appreciate your dedication to the Scroll and the help you give us. Lastly, to Andrew, Lucia, Tess, Tim, and Luc. The future of our paper is bright in your hands. I can’t wait to see you define your legacy. John Woo Co-Managing Editor I would be lying if I said I remembered the first time I stepped into the Scroll room, a small yellow-lit room tucked away in the corner of the haunted basement of the Kendall. But I would also be lying if I said I’d forget the countless memories I’ve made in that cramped room with the most dedicated writers and friends I’ve ever met. I don’t actually remember exactly why I joined the Scroll. Probably because I thought it sounded cool (and probably because I thought it would look good for college). All I remember is hearing an announcement at a sit-down dinner my freshman year, then listening to the scary (or so I thought) senior editors of the Scroll explain in Hess 123 how to write an article with a slideshow containing more bolded words than I had ever seen in my life. Safe to say, I did not learn to write an article that day. I was so embarrassed about the first article I ever wrote that I had to lie to my page editor that I had a migraine and was at the health center just to get an extension. To the new writers of the Scroll, if you joined to learn how to be a better writer, I admire your initiative. But your experience will most likely be how most of us learned to swim: dropped in the water and left to float or drown. Fight against the current that are associate editor comments, and soon enough, you’ll find yourself learning how to swim all on your own—or in this case, learning how to write without passive voice and where the period goes at the end of a quotation. But also know that every editor in the Scroll has written their first article at some point in time, only for it to be graffied over with a rainbow of edits on Google Docs. And instead of lying to your page editor about a migraine, you can just ask for an extension. Turns out, senior editors aren’t so scary after all. Joanna Chang Co-Managing Editor If someone asked me where I spent the most time at Deerfield, I would not hesitate to say the dusty basement of the Kendall, where The Deerfield Scroll is having another layout night. In that small room held countless hours, pens, and coffee I’ve dedicated to an extracurricular, people may say, that required too much for too little care. You see, the Scroll on campus may not be the most popular piece of literature to read. It has been through some battered work and Monday meetings with the advisors, working through logistics and catching send-to-print dates. But for me, the hassle is worth it for that one student who would flip through the papers, read an article, or jump straight to the Buzz page crossword. More importantly, because of why journalism matters and what it has taught me. The Scroll is a space where I could both honor the storyteller within me and what it means to be a Deerfield student. Through every article I wrote and every piece I edited for this newspaper, I had grown as a writer, communicator, and leader. I found friendships, confidence, and lasting memories while interviewing students, staff and reporting on events. Journalism taught me to listen, to ask questions, and to gather perspectives. Those countless Friday nights spent with Anna Guerrini staring into an Adobe InDesign file titled “Op-Ed Nov. 25 FINAL FR 2.0,” fixing smart apostrophes (’), browsing DAinfo for a faculty’s title, or ordering Chinese takeout while our budget lasted, were never a burden. They are some of the highlights of my high school experience. I’ve shared more humor that made me smile even on stressful days; I’ve heard more stories that made me see the community in a different light; I’ve witnessed more resilience through articles that spurred controversy but encouraged engagement. From that Staff Writer, excitedly holding a new Scroll issue because her Historic Deerfield article made its way to the front page, to later be known in the room as the “Features girl,” then the Managing Editor, I am forever grateful for this journey. Thank you to everyone who helped me discover a passion and achievement I’m genuinely proud of. As I embark on my next chapter, I know the Scroll will flourish under the CI board’s reforms as it enters a digital era. Karen Park Digital Managing Editor My “sidequest” in the Scroll began in the backseat of Mr. Bakker’s van on Easter Sunday, when Jerry casually mentioned an opening for digital managing editor. The Scroll, which once meant nothing more than the black cursive I glanced at while nibbling on Ms. Brown’s feed and karayokeing Taylor Swift in the J1 common room, soon morphed into countless unexpected memories, people, places, and a strangely gratifying sense of embarrassment. Altogether, it seems to sum up the inner workings of Deerfield: the ripple effect of individual passions and care—and of course, the beauty of choosing to cruise through it and embrace spontaneity. I am grateful for the twenty-minute van ride that brought me to filming sessions extending for hours past what I would promise everyone, “we’ll be done.” Often, we blamed our lack of planning, but to speak the truth, we often deviated from our so-called “plans” anyway. Most of the time, we don’t get anything done. But that’s because every time, we think of a brilliant new recipe for disaster, while Albert happens to have the precise equipment needed to succeed. And sometimes, all it takes is a statistics-based dumpling taste-test with Josie or John Liu paparazzing an emergency apocalyptic community time “digital-Scroll-only” meeting. At times, bearing a title with expectations but no precedent left me wondering what to do next, and additionally, embarrassed about everything I couldn’t do. However, stepping away from it, I now chuckle at the optimism that I, and soon, a team of us managed to carry in order to push forward—pushing the stubborn wheels of the equipment cart screaming from cars at 9:44 pm, pushing for deadlines barely ever met, and maybe, pushing for a grander vision I’ve held since that very Sunday—with the hope that it will one day, get fulfilled. We face uncertainty, but trust, I’m pretty certain that we’re slowly getting somewhere. Melody Zhao News Editor The first Scroll article I ever worked on was, by all means, a fiasco. It was the fall of 2022, a day before the deadline, and I hadn’t interviewed anyone about the deli bar. How hard could it be? Sliced bread, roast beef, cheese, a couple of waves of the magic wand (and surrendering my responsibilities to Green Guo and the editors)…and poof, for the next three years, a recipe for the article used in applications to show writers what not to write. But as I came to realize, the people on the Scroll have a special soft spot for forgiving first-time writers, and another one for seeing the storyteller in you. From laughing about ugly sweater days in my fireside chat with Deerfield Innkeeper Laurie McDonald to collectively brainstorming newsworthy events, the Scroll is no longer just a school newspaper to me. It’s a voice for students, and it just happens to run on contracted labor, humor, and late-night DoorDash runs. For me, the most memorable projects have been ones that spurred dissent, showcased a demographic not readily discussed on campus, highlighted lesser-known campus stories, or, most importantly, brought people together. I couldn’t have done it without the people. So, to those who believed in me, thank you, because now, I believe unabashedly in the next generation of editorial torchbearers. Yet, as much as our title-bearing-board-barons may tout the success of the Scroll publication, the friendships formed, and the amusing, late-night quarrels - which have undoubtedly shaped us for the better - I’ve found that the Scroll can also infuriate in ways we don’t fully express. If I want to stay true to my farewell to the Scroll, I would also like to caution against squashing creativity, journalistic bravery, and fresh perspectives: the three things that brought me here in the first place. After a while, the publication can tend to collapse in on itself, with the same bubble of voices regurgitating similar stories and takes. I really commend the C board this year for their efforts to revitalize and expand; they have been incredible, hands down. Still, if the Scroll is to fulfill its mission, to foster a marketplace of ideas, it should not attempt to cater to the gingerly crafted image of the school. It should be more meritocratic. It is not only injurious but also unethical for anyone or the administration to hawk over the free press in the name of “disciplined non-partisanship” or institutional neutrality. It can make students hide in their own turtle shells. There’s a Marie Howe poem I love, “Mary’s Argument,” in which she writes, “There is an edge we come to count on // when all the normal signs don’t speak, // a startled vigilance that keeps us waking // to watch the moon, the peculiar stars.” We lose a piece of that “startled vigilance,” that “unrequested astonishment,” whenever we pursue actions that vanquish the very mission of student publications. At the same time, students have always been the authors of change, and the pen is now in great hands. Josie Kalish Arts Editor I have never commended the Scroll for making me a better writer or editor. Such skills are merely occupational byproducts. But if you know me, you are likely familiar with my affection for this publication; if prompted, I could go on for hours recounting the lore of the Kendall basement. My journey began in the winter of my sophomore year when I pitched an idea that sent then-Managing Editor Justin Ahn physically recoiling from his chair in laughter. Despite that less-than-encouraging reception, the piece was published, which I believe set the tone for my more unconventional contributions. This spirit reached its zenith when Karen, Caylah, and I launched a series of DoorDash tastings for Buzz junior year, where we discovered that few matters ignite more passion in a room full of Scroll editors than a subpar dumpling. “A disgrace to my culture,” Andrew Li declared, lamenting an egregious imbalance between dough and filling, while John Liu prodded one with a chopstick, likening its arid interior to the Sahara. While the public only sees the final publication—the polished result of a world where Kobe Hibachi is the consensus favorite—I am most grateful for the raw, unpublished perspectives the newsroom compelled me to engage with. I found the genuine joy embedded in journalism through late-night laughter with Theo, Nico, and Caylah, just as I found the necessity of conviction in the daily, delightful quarrels between John, John, and John. Ultimately, I commend the Scroll for fostering my appreciation for constructive disagreement. In a community where the dissenting voice is encouraged, I have learned to seek out the clash and construction of ideas. To future writers: be controversial. The paper’s vitality relies on your individuality. Do not let the institution or status quo suppress your creativity, and never underestimate how heated a dispute can and should become in the Scroll Room. One more request: please continue my Album of the Issue. Evelyn Kunde Sports Editor When I walked through the orangeish-burgundy door into the Scroll room for my first writers meeting, I was immediately captivated by the atmosphere cultivated by the previous Scroll board. I looked up to Caroline Weller ’23, and was set on becoming the Sports Page Editor by my senior year. Working up the Scroll’s ladder meant endless hours editing, receiving calls on random weekend nights, and revising entire articles. On top of the hard work that goes on within the Scroll room, there come many funny memories, friendships, and opportunities for growth. The Scroll introduced me to many people I may not have met otherwise, and also taught me about my love for journalism and work in magazines. I am appreciative of all the people (writers, editors, friends, leaders) who have shaped my experiences as a Scroll Staff Writer, Associate Editor, and Sports Page Editor. John Comite Buzz Editor My Deerfield experience would not have felt complete without the late nights I spent in the Kendall Basement, laboriously supervising arguably the most important section of The Deerfield Scroll newspaper, the Buzz page. As the Buzz page editor, I had one goal: write humorous articles on the absurd happenings around campus to provide a vital source of comedy for the student body. From performing investigative journalism for my article on the Cow Turf raids and reporting on the utter chaos occurring during the “OBC Stomps,” to managing the “egregious” misstep with the infamous 2025 Choate News collaboration and climbing through a window in the Kendall to try and unlock the Scroll room, I think I achieved my goal. Students and faculty alike would also, from my understanding, agree. I will look back fondly on my time with the Scroll as I could always count on it to lift my spirits. To my fellow board members in the class of 2026, thank you for being a constant source of entertainment and for making this club one of the best parts of my Deerfield experience. To my successor Spencer Trees, thank you for being the page’s best contributor. I have no doubt you too will write egregious articles and one day end up in room 207 of the library. To the 101st Editor-in-Chief Andrew Li, I couldn’t have done any of it without you. The paper is in great hands. As I write this, my final contribution, I am reminded of all the Scroll has given me and am filled with a sense of profound gratitude. I look forward to reading the Buzz page as an alumnus. Albert Yuk Photography Editor For all of my freshman and sophomore years as a staff photographer, I remember looking forward to becoming the photography editor so I could get my “fair” share of doordash. Yet, just after I finally landed that role, the school discovered that the XCVIII board abused the school’s card a “little” too much. The Scroll’s budget got crippled, and the weekly Peking ducks that my editors once promised me were gone. For that—and not just about the duck—I decided to focus my efforts in journalism back home in China. Despite the massive availability of Peking ducks there, the consequentialist approach to journalism was burdening, making it so that eventually, I forgot what journalism was even supposed to be. The people of the Scroll kept pulling me into meetings, and the meetings kept pulling me closer to them. Somewhere in there, my role as a photography editor expanded into filming for the digital team, and even drafting of the layout of the new digital reform. This drastic change from being a clog in a massive machinery to actually delivering end-to-end projects refreshed what journalism meant to me. So for that, to the holy trinity of Johns, the rest of the board, and the digital team, thank you. You never got me my Peking duck, but I struck more than just luck being a part of The Deerfield Scroll.

THIJS WITTINK/DEERFIELD SCROLL Teagan Farley ’26 is one of the three captains of Deerfield Varsity Girls’ Rowing this year. She has committed to Stanford University, where she will continue her rowing career, and has also competed on behalf of the U.S. Women’s National Team. Farley’s rowing journey began during the COVID-19 pandemic, when living in New York City limited her ability to play sports outside. “My mom says that I was born caffeinated—I just have too much energy—so my dad started putting me on the rowing machine we had, and I was pretty good at it,” she recalled. A few months later, she joined City Island Rowing, a rowing team located outside of New York City. Although the commute was long, she said she quickly “fell in love” with both the sport and the team. That experience eventually led her to apply to boarding school and come to Deerfield. Since arriving at Deerfield, Farley has made strong contributions to the program. Girls’ Varsity Rowing Coach Parker Washburn described her as “somebody who is eager to push herself and her teammates further than they may think they can go.” He added that she raises the standard for the team while making others feel included in the work required to succeed. Coach Washburn also stated, “She is capable of leading by example through the work that she does, consistently.” Her consistency and effort have made her a strong presence both in practice and in races. Farley generates enthusiasm on and off the water, earning her title as captain. Her teammate Lily Johnson ’28 said, “[she] cares so much, not just about rowing, but being a good teammate and leader,” adding that her attitude, especially on race day, sets the tone for the team. Rowan Skinner ’26 agreed, saying, “Teagan rallies the team by setting a clear, shared goal and inspires everyone to see how their individual efforts contribute to the goal.” Other teammates point to her work ethic as a daily example. “I feel motivated to bring my best to practice every day when I see her working hard and never taking her foot off of the gas,” Liesel Stitch ’28 said. Farley leads by example—being a strong example to her team and even the other captains. Co-captain Laura Kim ’26 shared, “It is inspiring to see Teagan’s incredible work ethic paired with such humility. Her dedication to this sport is evident and I am honored to have the privilege of leading a team with her.” Beyond Deerfield, Farley has competed at a national level. In her sophomore year summer, Farley raced the quad, a four-person boat where each rower uses two oars, representing the US National Team. She was asked to join the camp sculling and had a great experience. She loved her experience so much that “[she] wanted to come back and try something different and see what the sweeping side of it was like.” This past summer, Farley rowed in the four for the sweeping side, and describes it to be an “overall amazing experience.” Training in Chula Vista, California, for the whole summer required significant time and commitment, including time away from family, but she described her experience as “deeply rewarding.” Some of Farley’s best moments take place on the water. She recalled a race at the World Championships where her boat stayed composed despite trailing for most of the race. “We didn’t freak out. We just stayed calm and trusted our rhythm and base, and most importantly, trusted each other,” she said. In the final seconds, they pulled again and won by a narrow margin. “We ended up winning by like a hair, and it was so fun and entertaining, but I also just think that crossing that finish line, I was so much more proud than if it was an easy race.” Moments like these shaped her as the athlete she is today. She claims it helped her “hold my composure in stressful moments on and off the water,” when trying to “perfect my craft.” Coach Washburn defines Farley as a good rower, someone “in great shape, have a combination of endurance and power, but also is really skillful and able to collaborate effectively with others. In settings like races and training, they need to exhibit real competitive stamina and toughness.” As her time at Deerfield comes to a close, Farley leaves behind a strong example of leadership and commitment. Looking ahead to her next four years at Stanford University, she brings with her not only experience at the highest level, but also the mindset that has shaped her success so far.

Two weeks into the January application-reading season, artificial intelligence (AI) was “front of mind” for the Admissions Office, according to Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Chip Davis. Since 2023, he’s seen a steady increase in the number of AI-written essays his office receives. Following the introduction of ChatGPT—released initially by OpenAI in November of 2022—AI use by high school students has gone up to nearly 80% nationally, the College Board Newsroom reported. College admissions offices have started responding to the national surge in AI use, from restructuring their essay-writing process to even utilizing machine learning. At Georgia Institute of Technology, admissions officers pretended to be applying to high school students, feeding ChatGPT details about themselves to understand how to tackle the upcoming admissions cycle. At Bowdoin College, students can choose to receive randomly generated questions from a list of 100, which they have a minute to talk about. According to Science Teacher Rich Calhoun, who spoke with an admissions officer at the college, applicants’ verbal responses help the team identify which essays are written with AI. But at the college level, most admissions offices don’t automatically dismiss students if they suspect AI use. In an interview with the Scroll, Director of First-Year Admissions at University of UMass Amherst Erin Bernard explained that her office doesn’t reject applicants for suspected AI use—and they don’t put in a lot of time and effort into deducing if something is AI-written. “It is something that we take into consideration ... we might look and see what the recommen- dations say, is this a student who has had any kind of infractions for this?” she said, adding that the process is primarily trust-based. “We’re not going to assume something is AI unless it’s really obvious,” she said. She worries about false accusations, which, to her, are more of a concern than punishing someone who did use AI. The point of an essay isn’t to evaluate an applicant’s writing ability, Ms. Bernard said—instead, it’s about understanding who they are as an individual. Each spring, before Deerfield students leave for the summer, the college advising office meets with current juniors to talk about a plan for the upcoming college-heavy fall. In their meeting, they discourage advisees from using AI to write essays. One-on-one, the advisors stress the importance of authenticity in applications, College Advisor Jamie Brightman explained. “Hopefully, we’re getting people excited about telling their story,” she said. In her experience, the majority of colleges prohibit students from writing essays with AI but many allow “idea-generation” and editing. “I think it’s totally fine to use AI to help you shape your narrative and improve that essay,” Virginia Tech Assistant Professor Louis Hickman said, who works in the university’s psychology department and leads the admissions’ AI research team, in an interview with the Scroll. “Colleges, when they set rules around essays, are unrealistic,” Mr. Calhoun said. “They think that they’re catching kids who use AI. My guess is that the kids that they think that they aren’t catching are just better at AI than the adults are,” he added. Even before the widespread adoption of large language models, the Academy’s College Advising office dealt with student essays influenced by parents or outside college advisors. At the national level, 26% of students scoring in the 80th percentile or higher on the SAT or ACT work closely with a private college advisor, according to a survey by higher-ed-specialized marketing agency Lipman Hearne. If Ms. Brightman—or another advisor—suspects a student used an AI platform or an outside source to write their essay, they won’t immediately refer the student to the Academic Affairs office. Instead, Ms. Brightman explained, she’d stress the importance of maintaining a unique and cohesive voice. “I would say, ‘I feel like you’re missing an opportunity in this essay,’” she said, adding that “every situation is evaluated on a case-by-case basis, and if something were significantly concerning, it’s likely Academic Affairs would be involved.” From the admissions side, many college offices are beginning to use AI tools to filter through student transcripts, GPAs, and essays. A 2023 Intelligent survey reported that 50% of higher education institutions had used an AI tool in the admissions process, and 82% of all educational institutions planned to implement one in the next year. Virginia Tech is one of a few colleges using an AI model to evaluate student applications. Now, essays are graded by one human member of their admissions team and one AI reader on a 12-point scale. If the two grades differ by more than two points, the office brings in a third reader. Typically, the 2-point difference between the human and machine learning scores occurs about 10% of the time, Dr. Hickman estimated. His research team at Virginia Tech focused on ensuring a fair, unbiased machine-learning system, inputting essays attached to different demographic groups to see if their AI-reader responded consistently. Before proposing their AI reading system to the school’s president, Dr. Hickman’s team collected years of data—on everything from student first-year GPAs and transcripts to previous admissions’ essay scores. Their office, which receives about 60,000 applications each year, was able to release their early decision results five weeks early. “Almost every undergrad admissions office is strongly thinking about it but afraid to do it,” Dr. Hickman said. “We were either the brave ones or the dumb ones to go ahead and be the first.” He added that his team thought it was important to educate peer schools about the positive use of AI. CalTech admissions has also implemented a similar AI reading system. According to their website, their AI essay-rating program scans about 250,000 essays in under an hour, compared with a human reader who averages two minutes per essay. Still, they verify essay ratings with their admissions officers. “There are a lot of guardrails that these admissions offices want to build into their process, because they don’t want to end up with a disaster on their hands,” Ms. Brightman said. At the Academy, Mr. Davis explained that the admissions office isn’t currently interested in implementing AI tools. “I think Dr. Austin would be worried that it was inconsistent with our core values,” he said. Not using AI essay-readers is “the admissions’ way of saying we do face-to-face,” he added. Mr. Calhoun compared AI with the mid-90s release of the internet when he was a boarding student at Groton School. “It’s interesting to now listen to my colleagues sound very similar to my old teachers, deeply concerned that the internet was going to ruin education,” he said. The Academy was an early internet-adopter and now holds an “.edu” internet domain, while other schools—such as Hotchkiss School—have a “.org” domain. “People in general have negative reactions to being assessed or evaluated by AI, and in undergrad admissions, that’s no exception,” Dr. Hickman said. He explained that most schools are “worried that it’s going to cause reputational harm.” AI tools are causing admissions teams to rethink how they approach the essay, he explained—from implementing in-person writing samples to integrating video responses. “What if we started making people write their essays in a blue book with crayons?” Mr. Calhoun asked. “Do you think somebody who’s a genius could write an essay with crayons and a blue book that convinces Harvard that they’re a genius? They definitely could.” To address the rising number of AI-generated essays the Deerfield admissions office receives, the team is considering an in-person writing approach for the next application cycle. For now, they encourage students to write in their own voices. Refusing to do so “is effectively a breach of integrity,” Mr. Davis said.

Held in Bristol, England, this year’s World Schools Debating Championships (WSDC) invited over seventy national teams to participate in an eight-day debate tournament with over 165 top high schools from 17 different countries. Two Deerfield students, Casey Lee ’28, and John Woo ’26, were members of the student group representing the USA Debate Team. Both students have been members of the Deerfield Speech and Debate Team since their freshman year. Woo qualified for the USA Debate Team by winning first-place awards at the New England District Qualifier competition this year, whereas Lee qualified earlier this year at the International Independent Schools’ Public Speaking Competition (IISPSC). The WSDC is an annual event that, according to their website, “is designed to bring together the top high school public speakers and debaters from around the world.” The locations rotate annually; the first competition in 1988 was held in Reading, England, and recent competitions have been held in Durban, South Africa, Toronto, Canada, and Sydney, Australia. While each country competes against the others, individual scores are tallied up and graded at the end. The competition is comprised of five categories: Persuasive Speaking, After-Dinner Speaking, Impromptu Speaking, Parliamentary Debating, and Interpretive Reading. Contenders only compete in four, choosing between Persuasive or After-Dinner. Competitors have three ways to qualify for participation. The first is through winning categories in the IISPSC, where only five Americans advance to the WSDC, Lee being one of them. Another is through local debate competitions, which is the path Woo took. Coaches from the organizing independent schools of the WSDC can also select participants to join the national team. Woo and Lee travelled with Language Department Chair, Teacher, and Deerfield Speech and Debate Team coach Dan Houston. Though the primary focus was competing, Lee mentioned how “England was wonderful…because it was beautiful and the architecture was old and humbling.” She thought that “it’s really cool that the hosts rotate [locations], and it’s really cool to be able to travel and see so many cultures.” In England, Lee and Woo lived at Clifton College, a secondary-boarding school, where they stayed with other competitors and coaches all within the same hallways and rooms. Both Dr. Houston and Woo believed that the boarding experience was an interesting experience, the former mentioning that “it was controversial.” Meanwhile, the USA Team also included students and coaches from Groton School, The Hotchkiss School, and Choate Rosemary Hall. Lee remarked that she enjoyed collaborating with them, and noted how “everyone on the USA Team were such brilliant and exceptional people, and the conversations we had generally changed the way that I thinked, and it was a really wonderful experience, and to have a different perspective.” However, she noted that “you’re working with an entirely new debate partner, where you have to master their style and their language.” The USA Team faced some competition this year from the Canadian, Australian, and South African teams, who all received dozens of medals. While the American team has taken number one consecutively for many years, Dr. Houston stated how they went in “a little bit overconfident,” and that the other countries “really came to win it.” Nevertheless, Lee and Woo both made it to the semifinal round. Dr. Houston noted how Lee and Woo were both praiseworthy, and “especially Lee because she’s a sophomore.” When presenting an argument or a speech, Lee stated how she felt “a sense of adrenaline rush in [the] debate because it’s so competitive, and with the prep time being so short (ten minutes), urgency in the competition gives me the focus, and you know later on it’s going to be a really good debate.” As referenced with ‘Debate US,’ a website outlining debate structures, many of the rebuttals and cross-examinations are going to be between 5-10 minutes, with very little preparation time. Lee also explained that a difficulty was the “subjectivity, because all the judges are different, and I received some contradictory feedback. It made me realize how subjective speech and debate is, and how important it is to find a style that relates and is approved by the largest margin of people.” About a week after the competition, on Sunday, May 3, Deerfield’s Speech and Debate Program hosted a tournament where seventeen other schools came to compete. Dr. Houston, Language Teacher Matt Kutolowski, and History & Social Science Teacher John Leistler, the three coaches of the Speech and Debate Team, helped organize this competition, but the former two are both leaving this year, leaving next year’s program leaders up in the air. While Dr. Houston stressed his admiration and confidence in his debaters after the WSDC, he also expressed uncertainty at the future. In the end, he mentioned how “I can do everything to set the next person up for success, but it really comes down to the administration to make sure they give somebody the time and resources to continue the program. But I don’t know—time will tell.”

THIJS WITTINK/DEERFIELD SCROLL On April 25, the Deerfield Math Competition brought together 87 middle school students from the Eaglebrook School, Berkshire Academy, Cardigan Mountain School, the Bement School, The Academy at Charlemont, JFK Middle School, and Lesley Ellis School to participate in a multi-round math competition organized by students from the Deerfield Math Club. This year’s record-breaking participant turnout marked a milestone for the event since its creation in 2017. Math Teacher and Faculty Advisor for the Deerfield Math Club Forest Reid explained that preparations for the competition began months in advance. Members of the Math Club divided responsibilities across multiple roles. These roles included problem writing, website management, and logistics. “Problem writing is the core of it, and it is really, really hard,” said Mr. Reid. He also noted that the logistics aspect was a “huge undertaking” and a “big organizational task.” According to Mr. Reid, the event was inspired by students who participated in the Harvard-MIT Mathematics Tournament, a student-run competition for high schoolers. The DMC follows a similar structure, featuring multiple rounds, including an Individual Round, a team-based “Guts Round,” and a final Countdown Round, newly added to this year’s competition procedure. “I think we could do some more of this format in the future,” said DMC Student Logistics Director Jewel Suh ’28. Members of the Math Club created original problems for the competition since February. The group collaborated during club meetings to review proposed problems and work through them to create a coherent answer key. “Each problem writer can choose their category, but we try to keep the number of problems balanced across all categories,” said DMC Student Director Torge Blunck ’27. According to Mr. Reid, writing competition-level questions differs from preparing class assessments. “It’s not like writing a math test for a class,” he explained, “You want some [problems] that almost everybody gets…and some that almost nobody gets, because then you wouldn’t have a winner.” The Individual Round required students to solve eight problems independently within 45 minutes. The Guts Round, modeled after the format used by HMMT, required teams to work together, solve problems in sets, and submit answers sequentially with scores displayed in real time. Instead of having two separate individual rounds as in previous competitions, the final Countdown Round, modeled after another competition called MATHCOUNTS, was used to determine the individual winner. A bracket-style system was used to mark the advancement of winners through each matchup based on speed and accuracy. Reflecting on the effectiveness of the new format, Blunck said, “We thought it was an exciting finish to the day, so we plan to keep this change in future years.” Aside from problem writing, other members of the Math Club worked on organizing the competition’s logistics. The team coordinated with schools, managed registrations, and compiled competition materials. During the competition, the team also managed a set of spreadsheets to track scores, compile results, and generate rankings across rounds. For students thinking about joining the DMC team, Suh suggested, “DMC is a good opportunity to not only work on your math, but also your leadership skills…It’s a really fun time; it’s a good group of people.” Looking ahead, Mr. Reid said future improvements will likely focus on refining logistical systems, such as keeping different spreadsheets to gather results faster. He also noted ongoing efforts to streamline communication with participating schools and reduce the amount of last-minute adjustments during the event. “I think we had a really nice setup this year, and there’s always a little refinement that can happen,” he said.

CELINE CHANG/DEERFIELD SCROLL President and CEO of the Rockefeller Capital Management Greg Fleming joined Board of Trustees President Leila Govi ’93 in the Caswell Library following sit-down dinner on Thursday, April 23, to discuss the evolving landscape of global finance and leadership. Mr. Fleming offered his inside perspective on the world of investment banking and fielded questions from Ms. Govi, partner at Egerton Capital, an investment management firm in London. She began by introducing Mr. Fleming as a “rockstar in the finance world, [and] one of the most respected leaders and a true legend on Wall Street.” Mr. Fleming is a frequent visiting lecturer at the Yale Law School with extensive business experience at Merrill Lynch, Morgan Stanley, and currently, Rockefeller & Co. He began by reflecting on Deerfield Academy’s impact on his daughter, who graduated in 2014: “Leadership is incredibly important in every aspect of life, and the leadership that you all have with Leila as president of the board and Dr. Austin as head of school is best in class.” In response to Ms. Govi’s question about the repercussions of AI on the job market in the finance industry, he further underscored the importance of institutions like Deerfield Academy, saying, “The ability to apply interpretation and analysis is going to be more highly valued. You come out of Deerfield Academy and you learn … to think, to adapt, [and] to make decisions with a complicated set of facts.” The conversation delved into professional culture in the finance industry and the character Mr. Fleming looks for in job applicants. He emphasized the importance of collaboration, urging students to “be the high-road person. Have people want to be in the room with you. Collaborate well, and then you’ll start to lead well. [Leadership] comes down to … supporting and highlighting the people around you for their strengths.” This focus on character resonated with faculty and students, including History and Social Science Department Chair Brian Hamilton. He noted how Mr. Fleming’s emphasis on soft skills resonated with him. “Mr. Fleming affirmed what Deerfield’s curriculum works to foster in our students–values like critical interpretation and analytical thinking–even in a hard nosed world like that of finance,” Mr. Hamilton said. For him, these values mirrored the culture of Deerfield itself: “We all take responsibility for everything that happens on campus. We think of all students as ours.” Dima Kasumov ’27 spoke for many students when he illustrated his personal appreciation for Mr. Fleming’s perspective. As the founder of the financial markets club (CapX), Kasumov spoke about publicizing the event to over 150 people in economics classes and clubs. With his own interests in the vast world of finance, he offered his insights on the talk. “The idea that Mr. Fleming went into law and ended up as one of the most world-renowned financiers is very reassuring. It’s proof of the fact that not everything is linear and that you don’t need to follow the institutional path into finance,” he said. Mr. Fleming leaned into the idea of a non-linear path, noting that his own career looked nothing like he expected as a young graduate. He urged students to embrace the “atypical path” and prepare for the “best laid plans to change.” This flexibility, he asserted, is the ultimate defense against the shifting job markets. Addressing the rise of AI in the industry, Mr. Fleming admitted many “rote” jobs would be at risk, but the ability to apply analysis would quickly become a standout characteristic in the finance and business sector. He reassured the room that the core values of Deerfield’s education, along with assuming a character of collaboration, would be integral to long-term success. Additionally, he challenged students to look towards mentors who “push and prod” them to excel and be the “high-road person” with peers and competitors. As the evening drew to a close, Mr. Fleming stressed that although the tools and landscape of finance are shifting, the foundational values that Deerfield fosters will remain a permanent tool. As members of CapX and Deerfield students engaged with the conversation between Ms. Govi and Mr. Fleming, the latter ended the night with a sentiment from Nelson Mandela, a South African statesman and president: “It always seems impossible until it is done.”

During Spring Family Weekend, my English class held a parent-student symposium on Helena Maria Viramontes’s novel Under the Feet of Jesus. This novel explores the life of Estrella, a child who tries to navigate life as the daughter of migrant farmworkers in the Central Valley of California. The book is unforgiving to its characters and their circumstances. They wake before dawn, working under the blazing sun, and fight for basic human dignities that, by virtue of their availability, Deerfield students don’t have to think about: shelter, a meal, and the ability to remain in one place. We spent the entire class discussing the characters’ difficulties and resilience, and what the novel demands of its readers. Then, a parent in the room made a point that stuck with me. The parent pointed out that we’d been talking about the difficulty of undervalued labor as if it were something that exists far away from Deerfield, as if it were happening on the farms of California, at another time, to people who were completely different from us. Underappreciated labor, they remarked, isn’t just about the farmworker. Underappreciated labor is the condition of the nurse, the janitor, the groundskeeper, and all the people who help run this entire institution. I have been thinking about that comment ever since. There is a certain kind of invisibility that becomes attached to competent and consistent labor. Consider the person working in the Greer, who knows your name by heart. Or the groundskeeper who does their job so well that you have never once had to think about walking through snow on your way to class. Or the custodian who cleans the dorm bathrooms quietly, without interruption or acknowledgement. These are not trivial things. They fundamentally support our daily lives and deserve recognition. I have walked past many of these people and said “hello” or “thank you,” but that was it. They would typically offer a warm smile and greet me back, and nothing further would be exchanged between us. In some way, that always bothered me, though I couldn’t quite explain why. It bothered me because I began to realize how little I actually knew about them. I see the same custodians every time I wake up late and slip into the bathroom during first period; they are already there, changing the soap, scrubbing surfaces, making sure the space is clean and functional. The people who handle our laundry. The security guards who are always present when I go to pick up a package or a DoorDash order cheerfully ask, “How is your day going?” with enthusiasm that sometimes makes me feel quietly ashamed of my own. These people have families, histories, stories about where and how they grew up, full lives that exist entirely outside the narrow sliver of them that we ever see. Yet, at Deerfield, we often see only that sliver. Sometimes not even that. Let me be very clear about what this article is not. It is not an indictment. Most of the students here at Deerfield are very polite and nice to people who work for the school. We open doors, we say thank you, and we are considerate. If you were to survey the members of the maintenance and dining hall departments, you would likely find that Deerfield students are, by and large, decent and well-mannered. However, I do believe that kindness and gratitude are different things and that, without quite realizing it, we have begun to confuse the two. True gratitude requires active recognition. It demands the acknowledgment, on a conscious level, of the labor and care that shape the conditions of our lives. Gratitude is not just holding a door. Gratitude is actively registering what you receive and from whom you receive it. I would claim that such attentiveness to surroundings is structurally hard to maintain at a place such as Deerfield. Consider the basic conditions of daily life here. We wake up in heated dormitories; we take walks along paths, some of them heated, already cleared of snow before we get out of bed; we eat food prepared by kitchen staff who come to work well before the dining hall opens. People, we will never meet, clean our classrooms, repair our equipment, and maintain our common rooms, a labor performed so efficiently that we never have to think about it. It doesn’t happen out of nowhere; it’s the result of active labor by actual people, people who, by virtue of their efficiency, are often invisible to us. The issue is not a simple absence of gratitude. Gratitude, in this context, is not merely a feeling but a conscious choice to recognize and appreciate what others do for you and who is doing it. The deeper problem is that comfort has become so permanent a feature of life at Deerfield that it no longer registers as comfort at all. We are not grateful for air. When something has always been there, we stop perceiving it as a gift. Viramontes understood this. Estrella moves through the world with a kind of fierce, exhausting attentiveness. She notices everything, cataloguing each discomfort and each small mercy with equal precision because nothing in her life is guaranteed. That heightened awareness is the direct product of precarity. She sees clearly because she cannot afford not to. We are not in a position of precarity. I am not saying that we need to wish for it, but I wonder whether it’s possible to acquire the kind of vision Estrella has without going through the hardship first, if it’s possible to be aware of the surrounding world without forcing ourselves into a position where we need to be hyper-aware. I am not sure what the answer is. But, I do believe that the question matters. I do not think the solution is reminding yourself to thank the next person you pass in the hallway. This type of prescriptive gratitude is not optimal; it transforms a human relationship into a transaction, a box to check on the way to feel like a considerate person. The gesture becomes about the giver, not the recipient. And an act of gratitude that is primarily about the person performing it is, in some ways, not gratitude at all. The type of gratitude I believe we need is something harder: a sustained practice of attention towards the labor that surrounds us, a genuine desire to see those who take care of us, and to resist the ease of not seeing them. The education that is offered to Deerfield students is unparalleled in the world today. Part of that education should be, in my view, learning to see the whole picture of labor, of the people who get here before we wake up, stay here after we fall asleep, who work tirelessly to provide us with opportunities. Those people aren’t just background; they are the ones who make Deerfield possible; they are the foundation of our community. In the end, Under the Feet of Jesus has no comfortable resolution. Estrella’s life remains harsh and unfulfilled. Viramontes doesn’t give her readers the pleasure of an easy ending. There is a certain honesty in this; she doesn’t give us an excuse. Following her example, I want to be clear that this is not an article with a clear call to action. It is an invitation to sit with a question that I have not fully answered myself: when everything is given to you, how do you learn to actually see it? I do not know. But I think the asking of it is where we begin.

HEIDI LIANG/DEERFIELD SCROLL Dear Reader, Putting pen to paper has never felt so hard. As I sit in my room and attempt to write my final letter to you, I find myself stopping every minute. Memories of my time spent writing for this paper, some going as far back as freshman year, come flooding in. Processing each of these on its own is a joy; reflecting on them collectively, however, pains me as I realize I can never fully convey all that the Scroll has given me in one letter. Nonetheless, I can still offer you a glimpse into my Scroll experience. Hopefully after you read this, you’ll go out there and find something so worth doing for you as the Scroll has been for me; oh, and of course, continue to read The Deerfield Scroll. It is 7:00 p.m. on Monday, September 19, 2022. 14-year-old me struggles to squeeze my 110-pound frame between two burly juniors blocking the door to the Scroll room. Only ten minutes prior, I had shamelessly stopped a random girl on the path to ask her if she knew the way to the basement of the Kendall building. Now that I was there however, every neuron in my brain screamed at me to leave. For one, the atmosphere was terrible. The antique lights bathed the room in a dingy yellow, casting a depressing sensation that consumed me like a cloud. The second, and by far more important motivator however, was how insignificant I felt. The small, shy introvert that still defines me today felt worthless after listening to the taller, more sophisticated editors pitch out article ideas. Yet for some inexplicable reason, I still stayed. It is 9:48 p.m on Friday, February 23, 2024. 15-year-old me sits underneath the same dingy lights that I hated so much a year ago. In front of me, my MacBook is down to its last 10% power, drained by the fifteen tabs I have open: each representing an article I’ve edited since I first arrived at the Scroll room two hours prior. Tired beyond relief, I have a decision to make: either I could borrow a charger from my Editor-in-Chief and continue revising articles, or I could leave the Scroll room now and go back to sleep. For the same inexplicable reason, I borrow a charger and go straight back to work. It is 6:30 a.m on Sunday, March 2, 2025. 16-year-old me rises out of bed and gets ready for the day. Grabbing the stack of newspapers I picked up from the Scroll room the night prior, I head over from OBC to the Koch center: the furthest I can be from the allure of my bed where I copy edit every page of the February issue for the next three hours. By 8:30 a.m. my head is already drooping, yet I resist the urge to sleep and continue diligently marking up the page. I’m barely conscious at this point. I don’t know why I’m doing this instead of sleeping, yet I continue to edit all the same. Today is Tuesday, May 5, 2026. Currently, it is half past one. For the past four hours, as I have struggled to come up with my final letter to you, I have reminisced over my entire Scroll career. In doing so, the same inexplicable motivator that has always brought me back to the Scroll becomes a recurring theme. And only now that my Scroll tenure comes to a close, that I finally realize what the motivator truly was: it was your readership. In freshman year, when I felt worthless and unheard, it was your readership that gave me my worth. In sophomore and junior year, when I contemplated why I did the Scroll when so many of my other friends hung out with each other or had fun on weekend nights, it was because of you that gave me purpose in creating a paper worth reading. And now in my senior spring, when I could be doing a million other things in my final days at the Academy, I chose to spend them writing for this paper because I know you are on the other side reading them. So thank you. Thank you for sticking with me for all four years, for watching me grow from a small, immature 14 year old to a slightly less small, still immature 17 year old. Thank you for giving me a platform to write on, a purpose to create something that is bigger than myself, that transcends my four years here. Thank you for transforming the Scroll room, turning it from a place I once found dim to my favorite spot on campus, a place that contains my most cherished memories of these short Deerfield days. Thank you for allowing me to form forever friendships with the class of 2023 to 2029, for connecting me with some of my best friends throughout high school. For an average kid from a small town in New Jersey, I could never have dreamed of something so spectacular. Yours in Service, John Qi Liu

HEIDI LIANG/DEERFIELD SCROLL Of course, as always, this year’s Deerfield Forum speakers all excelled in their fields. Of course, more than any past Forum, they eagerly debated and examined each other. Of course, their ideas kept students discussing the whole week, an unfathomable length for our attention span. Yet, the debate’s circling around definitions and predictions made the arguments slip by each other, missing the underlying assumptions where disagreement really sprang from. One might protest that debates are just, by nature, quick and shallow. Flashy interruptions can amuse audiences—certainly us—more than thorough elaborations. After all, six-minute openings and four-minute rebuttals simply cannot fit treatises after all. The clock, the crowd, and the cortisol blend into a nervous antagonism, which, with a sprinkle of ego, makes it easier to assume the other side did not fully understand the nuances of our own super cool and original argument. It is, then, only human to either dismiss the opponent with “you’re irrelevant” or merely repeat definitions against the opponent, hoping they finally see our brilliance and agree. You thus might excuse our speakers for not satiating the pedants’ interest in ethics and systemic thinking. But it need not have been so. Fundamentally, the debate’s superficiality reflects the importance of the humanities education and its depth of thinking. Among the debate’s tangents, the “this is about better, not healthier” quip that students groaned at the most was really a misdelivered structural critique. While it may seem like the Con side tried to make the Pro side defend aesthetic gene edits beyond just health edits, underlying this redefinition is the observation that any editing likely trends towards (often Western-skewed) homogeneity. This homogeneity originates from consumerist culture creating a hierarchy of aesthetics that pushes individuals to all desire the same thing, which, because of media power, is often European. This critique can be traced to the 20th-century philosophy of Critical Theory, which broke down the values of art and ethics that 19th century ideologies had believed to be objective truths, pointing out instead that such values were arbitrarily defined by those in power. However, as the Cons hardly engaged with these sociological underpinnings, the audience and the Pros dismissed “better not healthier” as a definition quibble rather than an inevitable corollary of the existing debate. The discussion thus devolved into a duel of comebacks. Missing this layer of normative, humanities-style thinking, each side merely clutched their own definitions rather than debating the more fundamental and meaningful question of whether individuals can be aesthetically free and diverse despite the social values engulfing them. The Cons did later allude to this reasoning by questioning whether Wall Street is likelier to hire a tall white man or a short person of color. The Pros did try answering the question with examples of technology creating diversity or humans embracing imperfections. Despite this real albeit indirect engagement with the underlying question, since the debaters presented these rebuttals as anecdotal quips, their opponents simply plastered over them with their own anecdotes. Their arguments thus flew over each other rather than moving towards an answer because the conversation did not dive into humanities-style inquiry: whether Philosophy’s dissection of underlying axioms, History’s extrapolation of conflicting stories, or English’s investigation of living psyches. One could even stretch to say that this overemphasis of anecdotes and data in the Forum reflects the negation-based empiricism of STEM thinking. While rigorous when pursued faithfully, this focus on merely reviewing and cross-verifying clinical trials risks stymying the creativity to extrapolate towards the greater implications of technological change for society and the human condition. It was no accident that the speakers frequently referenced literature. Brave New World and its shelves of peers are not only pop culture references to appeal to the crowd, albeit sadly unsuccessful with us, but also explorations of how human nature might use and abuse technology. Referencing them makes drawing upon the thinking of the humanities easier compared to steadily directing and pushing the conversation. That even at this highest level of intellectual expertise, a debate falls short simply reflects the importance of a strong foundation and continual practice of the humanities. Undeniably, the sciences pave the path towards the junctures of progress. However, if we do not wish to merely be swept by the material current of technology and its invisible hand, but to discern what we ought to become, then we require the humanities’ investigation of lemmas and motivations, axioms and aspirations.