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Head Gardener Jodi Tanguay is one of the many hardworking gardeners responsible for all the beautiful flora on campus. Every day, Tanguay dedicates her time to keeping Deerfield’s outside spaces looking pristine; however, not many people know about the inspiration behind Tanguay’s work. Tanguay’s daily duties encompass a number of tasks. “I primarily take care of planting and maintaining the gardens on campus,” she said. She also detailed her smaller obligations and said they include “participating in many side projects, such as brick laying, field repair from flood damage, and lots of snow removal.”  In describing the work of the gardeners on campus, she said, “We all may have jobs that we regularly do, but we all have to be willing and able to help wherever and whenever it is needed…It really is a team effort to make and keep the campus looking beautiful.”  Tanguay attributes her initial interest in gardening to her mother and her experience working at a local state forest as a teenager.  “At some point early on I realized that being outside was important to me, and gardening was a great way to make that happen,” says Tanguay. “It combines my interest in nature, liking to be physically active, and using my artistic talents to paint a canvas using plants.” When asked about how she ended up at Deerfield, Tanguay elaborated on how she wanted to pursue a job which she found enjoyable while also benefiting from the advantages of working full time. Tanguay explained, “It was a chance encounter and conversation with Denise Dwelley, who was then the head gardener, that ultimately led to my position.” She started working at Deerfield in April 2000.  The job does not come without its challenges. Detailing these obstacles, Tanguay said, “Enjoying my work even when the weather is bad is challenging. The rainy days and very cold ones can seem incredibly long sometimes.” On the bright side, she also is grateful to experience the rewarding satisfaction that comes with new installations and garden renovations. Tanguay has enjoyed much of her work with the gardens on campus and struggled to find a favorite, but recalled one project that was particularly memorable.  “The brick work around the sundial that I had the opportunity to do with my sister, JJ Tanguay, who worked in the grounds department for many years. It is something that I hope to admire for a long time,” she said. Tanguay urges students and faculty to take notice of the beauty on campus, particularly the older trees on campus. “We are lucky enough to still have many mature trees that cannot go unnoticed while walking on campus. The sycamore in front of the Main School Building still amazes me, and I try to appreciate it because even with the best care, trees are living organisms and there will come a day when that tree is no longer standing,” she said.

Often overlooked by the crowd of chanting fans and forgotten by the harbingers of fame and glory, “the bench,” is usually depicted in pop culture as the notorious place where dreams of being an all-star athlete dwindle. Contrary to popular belief, many Deerfield athletes have come to accept and enjoy their position on the bench with positivity. Meghan Holland ’23, a varsity volleyball player, derives fulfillment from attending the fun practice sessions and training alongside talented teammates. When asked about her experience on the bench, she said, “At first, it’s a little bit frustrating, but I like being on the bench.” She primarily uses this opportunity to bond with her teammates. “Don’t get me wrong, I love playing, but I also love watching and cheering. I got really close with my teammates last year, and there are so many different cheers we do for the volleyball team,” she said. Holland also  enjoys having fun with her friends in a less stressful environment. “I’m playing sports with my friends and not playing the sport for myself,” she said.  For Mary Lee ’23, a junior varsity soccer player who moved up to varsity his year, receiving much playing time doesn’t matter that much either. Instead, being benched motivates her to work harder. “Since I’m not going to play soccer in college, what’s more important for me is having fun and getting better,” she explained. Both watching the team and  practicing with her teammates have allowed her to improve tremendously.  This year, with coronavirus disrupting fall competitions, the unusual situation presents some benefits for the benched players, allowing them to participate more. Coaches have opted for alternative plans, which mainly include scrimmages within teams and rigorous training for all members.  “Usually, with normal games, not everyone plays all the time. In practice now, we’re all playing for two hours each day,” Holland said. For the girls’ varsity soccer team, Mrs. Barbato is more focused on improvement for all players. She believes that it is a unique opportunity for them to focus on sharpening skills instead of winning.

I am excited to introduce you to the Specials page. For every issue, The Scroll’s team of student writers, editors, photographers and graphic designers, alongside faculty support, will collaborate to investigate one issue, global or here on campus, in as much detail as possible. Alongside articles from the other pages of The Scroll , projects commissioned for the Specials page, such as this issue’s flow chart, will aim to represent a multifaceted approach for our reportage.  This issue, we are examining the Deerfield community’s collective response to COVID-19. From the administration’s positive case protocol to creative student efforts towards masking to the finances behind the scenes, we are aiming to provide a holistic picture of how Deerfield continues to grapple and respond to COVID-19. We hope that our reportage will serve as a window into Deerfield’s historic return to campus: the protocols and logistics, but most importantly, the stories.

Deerfield’s ability to uphold its sustainability goals is one of the many sacrifices that have been made in bringing students back to campus.  “Think 80/20 as a concept really took a hard shot,” said Environmental Management Coordinator David Purington when referring to COVID-19 restrictions this year. Think 80/20, one of Deerfield’s main sustainability initiatives, is a program dedicated to keeping the school’s landfill waste below or at 20% of its total refuse. The school has been able to achieve this goal in the past by employing a combination of reusing, recycling, and composting.  The first aspect of Think 80/20 is reusing. Deerfield has partnered with the Institutional Recycling Network (IRN) for years to send gently used equipment to other countries in order to reduce the school’s amount of waste. This can include anything from classroom technology equipment to toilets, sinks, and faucets.  Deerfield made its most recent shipment in partnership with the IRN in the fall of 2019, when they donated furniture and equipment from the Dewey Health Center to an organization based in Tanzania. Mr. Purington said, “Ultimately, we sent more than 160 items – from trash cans and bulletin boards to exam tables and hospital beds.” The second strategy the Academy implemented for Think 80/20 is recycling. The school has been able reduce its waste in the past by making it a priority to constantly expand the recycling program. In prior years, the school used a company called Amherst Trucking for waste management. They had a specific truck to pick up paper and cardboard, and a separate one for bottles and cans, which was how Deerfield sorted its recyclables. Amherst Trucking was recently sold to a larger company, however, called U.S.A. Waste. Since COVID-19, “U.S.A. Waste has adopted what they call ‘Single Stream’ as their model,” Mr. Purington said. “So even if we continued with all the toters outside, they were still going to show up with one truck.” Because of this, paper, cardboard, bottles, and cans are no longer being separated, though the dorm containers have not changed. In addition, the school has stopped collecting plastic bags and styrofoam. These materials require extra people to pick up in the dorms. “We recognized that one of our important goals was to have as few people as possible in the dormitories,” explained Mr. Purington. Finally, the school has focused on strengthening its composting program in the past few years to commit to Think 80/20. This included implementing dorm-wide composting last year, stocking the Koch and Greer Cafes with compostable napkins, cutlery, containers, and cups, and developing a thorough composting system in the Dining Hall.  Deerfield has put on hold composting during meal times and in dorms due to COVID-19. According to Michael McCarthy, Director of Food Services, “The biggest two things are the bottled water and the takeout containers” when it comes to the dining hall’s increase in waste. Another downside, he said, is that “we haven’t been able to compost the take out containers, even though they are compostable.” Despite the lack of composting available for students, the dining hall kitchen is still trying to stay as green as possible. Mr. McCarthy said, “We’ve been sourcing mainly compostable items: forks, knives, spoons, the pasta cups and lids.” He added, “We’re still [composting] food scraps from prep food, egg shells, vegetable and meat scraps” and “buying a lot of our food locally, like our produce and grass fed beef.” Deerfield faculty are also stepping up and making sure they are doing their best to contribute to the school’s composting goals. “I’ve had a lot of faculty ask me what to do with trash from their kitchens and houses and we’ve been able to create a place for them to participate again,” Mr. Purington recounted. Although Think 80/20 has had to be put partially on hold, the school can still commit to sustainability in other ways. Mr. Purington mentioned, “I am looking at a solar project as part of the facilities team, and we are also doing some long term planning on how we might be able to change the way we provide heat and electricity for the school over the next 20 years.” “I have a lot of confidence in the school’s ability to get back to those programs as soon as it’s allowed,” Mr. McCarthy said. He stressed to the community that “this is painful for a lot of us to do” and that “we’re all super committed to sustainability not only in the dining hall but all around campus.”

“On my first day of school, all the stereotypical things you would expect from a really bad school were prevalent: paper thrown all over the halls, kids running all over the place,” said Abreu. “But my seventh period was art class, and I was really excited for that. As we were filing into room 318, there was a collective hush, and it was obvious that whoever we were seeing on the other side of the door was well-respected.”  The person on the other side of the door was Tim Rollins, a “twenty-five year old spitfire” (as Abreu put it) in a three piece suit who would become one of Abreu’s mentors. On that first day of class, Mr. Rollins handed each student a fifty question multiple choice test with questions like “out of these four artists, which one was not a Cubist?” and “what year was the first Surrealist manifesto written?” After each student handed in their test, Rollins stood at the front of the room and said, “This is the exact midterm test that I’m going to give you. And I can guarantee that you all will get As.”  Sitting there, Abreu described how “it hit [him] like a lightning bolt: maybe this was where [he] belonged all along.” This was somewhere where he could be fully dedicated to art.  That fall, Abreu would join an afterschool program run by Rollins that would one day create Tim Rollins and Kids of Survival (KOS), one of the longest running artist collectives in the United States with pieces in over 120 museums around the world.  KOS was a collective of young artists who used literature in their artworks. Their belief was that when one is a member of an underprivileged group, simply surviving is making history as so many people in those groups do not. To dare to do more to survive, to make art, takes courage. They believed in not accepting history; they would defy it and make it their own. Abreu uses these mantras in his own work and life. He believes that “[the] characters that we read about, they’re suspended in timelessness. And for me they’re just ready to be plucked and used and be related to in ways not anticipated by the author. And that’s the ultimate metaphor for what art is. When it can transcend generations, transcends race, socioeconomics, gender, this is what it’s about.’” When Tim Rollins passed in 2017, KOS transformed into the organization Studio KOS. Under the leadership of Abreu and other members of the art collective, the group now conducts workshops around the country with youth and educators.  Abreu continued his work with KOS throughout his time as a student at  Deerfield Academy.  In his eighth grade year, Abreu first became connected with Deerfield Academy when an admissions employee who was friends with his guidance counselor visited IS 52 to interview a handful of students. He explained, “I really had no intention of going to Deerfield. I thought, ‘You know what, I’ll apply because everyone wants me to, but I’m going to stay and go to school in New York City.’ As it turns out, obviously I didn’t.”  During his freshman year at Deerfield, Abreu became the youngest artist to have a painting acquired by and be on the artist’s roster of the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. He was only 14 when the KOS work Amerika VIII was obtained by the prestigious institution.  But despite his accomplishments, Abreu kept his work with KOS quiet. He explained that he was worried that “it felt like I was boasting, like maybe it’s not something I should be talking about.” He also mentioned that he couldn’t fully consider the scope of his activities in the moment. “Sometimes you can’t make sense of these extraordinary things until you have hindsight, until you have some experience and you can figure out woah, like this is pretty fantastic,” he explained.  Abreu didn’t even tell Visual Arts Teacher David Dickinson about KOS. Dickinson found out about the group on his own. Abreu explained, “The Washington Post ended up doing a huge article on [Tim Rollins and KOS] and we were in the front section of the arts section. So I got back to campus my senior year and Mr. Dickinson showed me the article…I was kind of speechless at the time.”  He added, “I think it came as a surprise because I spent a lot of time in those studios, I spent a lot of time talking to him and getting advice on how to go about making work. And for me not to share that with him, I think he was a little hurt.” The close relationship with his Deerfield teachers is just one reason Abreu decided to come back as the 2020-21 Wilson Fellow. He explained, “[I’ve been] thinking about how we are all the ultimate art works, that you’ve got to curate your own experiences, your own cultural experiences, and all that manifests in certain ways that you may not quite understand.”  The unique challenges that he faces as a teacher during COVID-19 also fascinate him. “I would not be honest if I said I wouldn’t prefer to be here under normal circumstances, but I’m making the best of it. If anything, it’s making it necessary for new avenues of instruction which will augment the pedagogy going forward,” he said.  In addition, he emphasizes how proud he is of the amazing student body and their work, especially their dedication to learning and the school community during the pandemic. Abreu’s favorite part of the Deerfield community is its diversity. He said, “There is social unrest in the rest of the country and we’re certainly not immune to that here, but our close-knit community allows for discourse across many social lines. The work continues, but the answers rely on communities of future leaders like these. Students here need to believe and relish in that.”  He also believes that it is important for students to take part in as many opportunities as possible, practice their interests daily even through periods of stagnation, collaborate with others and their experiences to gain a more global worldview, be honest with constructive criticism instead of being condescending, and remember that they are all ultimate artworks.  Arts Teacher Angel Abreu ’92 was able to avoid attending Intermediate School 52, the middle school only three blocks away from his Bronx apartment, for two years. Instead, he took two buses to get across the city to one of the first charter schools in the South Bronx. But in 1986, when Abreu was twelve, he had no choice but to attend I.S. 52, a school he considered one of the worst schools in the city.  “On my first day of school, all the stereotypical things you would expect from a really bad school were prevalent: paper thrown all over the halls, kids running all over the place,” said Abreu. “But my seventh period was art class, and I was really excited for that. As we were filing into room 318, there was a collective hush, and it was obvious that whoever we were seeing on the other side of the door was well-respected.”  The person on the other side of the door was Tim Rollins, a “twenty-five year old spitfire” (as Abreu put it) in a three piece suit who would become one of Abreu’s mentors. On that first day of class, Mr. Rollins handed each student a fifty question multiple choice test with questions like “out of these four artists, which one was not a Cubist?” and “what year was the first Surrealist manifesto written?” After each student handed in their test, Rollins stood at the front of the room and said, “This is the exact midterm test that I’m going to give you. And I can guarantee that you all will get As.”  Sitting there, Abreu described how “it hit [him] like a lightning bolt: maybe this was where [he] belonged all along.” This was somewhere where he could be fully dedicated to art.  That fall, Abreu would join an afterschool program run by Rollins that would one day create Tim Rollins and Kids of Survival (KOS), one of the longest running artist collectives in the United States with pieces in over 120 museums around the world.  KOS was a collective of young artists who used literature in their artworks. Their belief was that when one is a member of an underprivileged group, simply surviving is making history as so many people in those groups do not. To dare to do more to survive, to make art, takes courage. They believed in not accepting history; they would defy it and make it their own. Abreu uses these mantras in his own work and life. He believes that “[the] characters that we read about, they’re suspended in timelessness. And for me they’re just ready to be plucked and used and be related to in ways not anticipated by the author. And that’s the ultimate metaphor for what art is. When it can transcend generations, transcends race, socioeconomics, gender, this is what it’s about.’” When Tim Rollins passed in 2017, KOS transformed into the organization Studio KOS. Under the leadership of Abreu and other members of the art collective, the group now conducts workshops around the country with youth and educators.  Abreu continued his work with KOS throughout his time as a student at  Deerfield Academy.  In his eighth grade year, Abreu first became connected with Deerfield Academy when an admissions employee who was friends with his guidance counselor visited IS 52 to interview a handful of students. He explained, “I really had no intention of going to Deerfield. I thought, ‘You know what, I’ll apply because everyone wants me to, but I’m going to stay and go to school in New York City.’ As it turns out, obviously I didn’t.”  During his freshman year at Deerfield, Abreu became the youngest artist to have a painting acquired by and be on the artist’s roster of the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. He was only 14 when the KOS work Amerika VIII was obtained by the prestigious institution.  But despite his accomplishments, Abreu kept his work with KOS quiet. He explained that he was worried that “it felt like I was boasting, like maybe it’s not something I should be talking about.” He also mentioned that he couldn’t fully consider the scope of his activities in the moment. “Sometimes you can’t make sense of these extraordinary things until you have hindsight, until you have some experience and you can figure out woah, like this is pretty fantastic,” he explained.  Abreu didn’t even tell Visual Arts Teacher David Dickinson about KOS. Dickinson found out about the group on his own. Abreu explained, “The Washington Post ended up doing a huge article on [Tim Rollins and KOS] and we were in the front section of the arts section. So I got back to campus my senior year and Mr. Dickinson showed me the article…I was kind of speechless at the time.”  He added, “I think it came as a surprise because I spent a lot of time in those studios, I spent a lot of time talking to him and getting advice on how to go about making work. And for me not to share that with him, I think he was a little hurt.” The close relationship with his Deerfield teachers is just one reason Abreu decided to come back as the 2020-21 Wilson Fellow. He explained, “[I’ve been] thinking about how we are all the ultimate art works, that you’ve got to curate your own experiences, your own cultural experiences, and all that manifests in certain ways that you may not quite understand.”  The unique challenges that he faces as a teacher during COVID-19 also fascinate him. “I would not be honest if I said I wouldn’t prefer to be here under normal circumstances, but I’m making the best of it. If anything, it’s making it necessary for new avenues of instruction which will augment the pedagogy going forward,” he said.  In addition, he emphasizes how proud he is of the amazing student body and their work, especially their dedication to learning and the school community during the pandemic. Abreu’s favorite part of the Deerfield community is its diversity. He said, “There is social unrest in the rest of the country and we’re certainly not immune to that here, but our close-knit community allows for discourse across many social lines. The work continues, but the answers rely on communities of future leaders like these. Students here need to believe and relish in that.”  He also believes that it is important for students to take part in as many opportunities as possible, practice their interests daily even through periods of stagnation, collaborate with others and their experiences to gain a more global worldview, be honest with constructive criticism instead of being condescending, and remember that they are all ultimate artworks.

In the spring of my freshman year, my friends and I became set on living in Harold Smith. The lush fields, beautiful common room, and towel warmers made it perfect for us. We had just two problems: we were a group of four black girls in a relatively small dorm.  I spoke with upperclassmen, asking if they had ever seen four black girls on a hall in HS at once. Everyone responded with “no” and that there probably wouldn’t ever be. We weren’t convinced; it made no sense. One of my friends and I decided to talk to a dean involved with housing to try to gain some favor, expressing how much it meant for us to live together. We strategized and decided one of us would sign up alone, and three together— this way we would be more likely to get the dorm. Our group of three pulled a twenty-six and we became even more optimistic about the outcome. After strategizing, speaking with a dean, and pulling a very low number, three of us were rewarded with our second choice hall, and we couldn’t have been happier about it. While the aim is  to promote diversity, the housing system ultimately ends up creating micro-halls reflective of Deerfield’s demographic breakdown. Deerfield is a relatively diverse community, with 54 students identifying as black according to Deerfield’s website. There are around 30 halls on campus, dwindling the number of black students on each hall to one to three, which can quickly become an isolating environment for some students.   Diversity and Inclusion are two sides of the same coin, yet at Deerfield the inclusivity piece significantly lags behind. The dorms are not a safe space for many black students; I’ve felt insecure when doing the simplest of things, like washing my hair or wearing my headscarf around the hall before bed. I have never felt more like an alien than when I walked out of my room freshman year with my afro out for the first time. There’s also the constant misnaming — I was called my roommate’s, who is also black, name on my hall constantly, which isolated us further from everyone else. In the three halls I have lived on, there’s never been much importance placed on inclusion and making the hall a safe place for everyone.  An unintended consequence of the housing system is the division among black students. While Deerfield pushes black students to reach out to students of different backgrounds — I’ve always made the effort to do so — there is no emphasis on reaching out to each other. Some black students even avoid other students of color out of fear of being typed as unfriendly to their white peers. In fact, at Deerfield it is viewed as strange for a group of mostly black students to sit together in the dining hall, but there is no judgement towards tables with mostly white students. There’s the unoriginal, “why are they only sitting with each other if they want to be included” or jokes about our so-called ‘self segregation’ that are almost underlined by the fact that we can’t even live in a dorm with too many of us. In order to allow for better inclusion and connection within the community;  Deerfield’s diversity should never be divisive.  This year, with the addition of squads, to promote community health, halls have become more isolating than ever. Part of the Deerfield experience is becoming culturally competent and learning about other backgrounds, but it can be draining to constantly be the educator from which students learn to be more culturally versed. The strategic division of black students to add some diversity to each squad,  places barriers between students of color in the community that COVID-19 related safety constraints make especially challenging to overcome. Squads are small, and it’s hard for many black students to be alone, unable to visit friends or other students who may  also feel like an outsider on their own hall. It is a detriment to emotional well being to feel unwelcome in the dorms we make our homes for the year. Diversity in the dorms is meaningless if it comes at the expense of students’ wellbeing. As an optimist, I’ve thought about some ways to better balance diversity and inclusion while putting students’ wellbeings first. The simplest solution is to ask questions and respond by adjusting the system. If Deerfield refocused on the root of these feelings of discomfort within halls instead of numbers,  dorms would be safer, happier places for everyone.  It’s also important to remember that diversity is about more than just racial and cultural differences. Black students are all different from each other with different things to contribute to a hall. Personally, I’ve made the strongest connections not out of seeking comfort in fellow black students, or pretending like race doesn’t exist amongst others, but in finding people who I connect with at heart.

On the morning of Monday, September 21, more than 100 students gathered on the senior grass in front of the Main School Building to protest Deerfield’s response to racial offenses in the community and make demands for the protection of marginalized groups on campus. The sit-in took place all day and was organized by the leaders of the Deerfield Black Student Alliance (DBSA). At the beginning of the protest, DBSA Co-Chair Jason Hutchinson listed students’ four demands. He called for the immediate implementation of DEER (Discipline, Education, Empowerment, and Reconciliation), total transparency regarding the handling of all reported instances of identity-based offenses, an explicit statement to the entire Deerfield community expressing a commitment to protect marginalized students, and an acknowledgment and apology for the disservices done to Black students on campus. “The idea of a sit-in protest is definitely something that is not new… after everything that has been going on in the world and on campus, it was clear to people that direct action was necessary,” said Adebisi Akilo ’21, Co-Chair of the DBSA. Students came and went all day long, and some chose to skip class. Academic Dean Ivory Hills explained that Deerfield has clear guidelines for the consequences of skipping class, and students could choose to get APs. “We teach a liberal arts education at Deerfield; at least a part of that must be understanding when and how to engage in civil disobedience,” Dr. Hills said. At the sit-in, students were given the opportunity to speak publicly about their own experiences and thoughts on racial issues.  “I wanted to show students of color that I stand with them even though I am a White girl with blonde hair and blue eyes from Wellesley, Massachusetts,” said Bliss Vernon ’22. Members of the administration met with the DBSA leaders in the afternoon on the day of the sit-in. After that initial meeting, DBSA Secretary Nikhil Barnes ’21 announced that the administration had agreed to construct a schedule and timeline to review and implement some version of DEER.  After more discussion, the administration verbally agreed to both the demands for transparency and an explicit statement expressing a commitment to protect marginalized students. DBSA leaders will continue to push forward the demands of implementing DEER and an official apology to the Black Deerfield community; they met with Head of School John Austin, who did not attend the initial meeting, on Monday, September 28. After attending the sit-in, English Teacher Eliza Mott ’12 said, “One of the things I care about most is students finding power in their own voice and realizing their own capacity to enlighten others and to change other people’s minds… I really feel strongly that students have so much to teach one another and to teach adults.”  Looking forward, the DBSA has plans in the works to continue pushing for the administration to protect marginalized students at Deerfield. “We can always do a lot more,” said Jenine Hazlewood ’22. “I think that was a good start, because I feel like this is only the start.”

Dear Deerfield Community, I’m so grateful to be on campus with all of you. It truly is an honor to serve as your student body president this year. I’m writing this letter in the middle of my three-day quarantine, which, in and of itself is a sign of our changing times. The world has faced crises before, and the Scroll has been there through it all, so I think it’s fitting that I work with them today to deliver this message.  We are at a trying moment in time, with racial justice and the pandemic playing such large roles in our daily lives. It would be impossible for me to address either of these things in sufficient detail here, but you will hear much more from me at Convocation about how we can move forward, together.  Those of you who are returning to Deerfield know how much we value our community and traditions here, and you must feel somewhat disconnected from those things. For our new students, it probably feels as though those traditions were never really here to begin with. It’s hard. I understand that. This year, you probably won’t get to experience the traditional sit-down meal, Choate Day, semi-formal, or the many other traditions that seemingly make up life at Deerfield. I love these traditions, I believe in them deeply, and it saddens me that this year, many of them will either be changed significantly or will not happen at all.  That being said, I’ve come to realize that our traditions alone aren’t Deerfield. You are. Each of you makes Deerfield the place we know and love. So what exactly is that? What are we about?  We’re about saying hello to someone on the path, even if you don’t know who they are. We’re about saying thank you to the housekeeping and dining staff. We’re about jumping in the River after a long practice, about quesadillas with guacamole from the Greer. We’re about sending leaders into the world. Now, this may sound intimidating, but rest assured, you don’t need a fancy title to be a leader. Leadership is about empathy, respect, and kindness — traits that brought you all to Deerfield. The newest ninth grader can be a leader on a team, in a class, or in the dorm. We’re about being there for each other. These are the traditions that don’t change — the traditions that bind us together — whether we find ourselves in the middle of a pandemic or not.  Your Student Council has always been and always will be here for you. In the coming weeks, you’ll hear much more from us about elections, projects, and other great new events in the works, but I wanted to share one thing I’m very excited about. This year, and hopefully in years to come, we’ll be rolling out an initiative where members of the Council attend a different alliance meeting each month. If there was ever a time where more understanding was needed, it’s right now. It’s my fervent hope that this leads to a deeper appreciation and a better understanding of your classmates’ perspectives and experiences. At a minimum, you deserve this from the people you elect to represent you. More than that though, it’s only fair that you see those representatives in the community, where people feel most comfortable, responding to your needs. I pledge to you that this Council will be the most accessible it has ever been.  So I have something to ask of you. Hold us accountable. Demand more from us. You have placed your trust in us, and we will not let you down. There are a lot of cosmetic changes this year, but on a basic level, Deerfield is still Deerfield. Those core values that I talked about still animate our campus. All you have to do is look around. You’ll see everyone donning a mask, distancing themselves, and wearing their tracers not just because it’s required, but because we care about each other. That’s the Deerfield I know. The student handbook, which I’m sure you’ve read cover to cover, asks us to act with respect, honesty, and concern for others. Let’s let those words guide us not just here at Deerfield, but in everything we do.  Yours, Chijioke Achebe Student Body President

Head of School John Austin wrote to the graduating 12th graders on April 29th that Deerfield was delaying graduation until early August. Hopeful that Deerfield would welcome the Class of 2020 on campus for an in-person Commencement, Dr. Austin did not initially follow our peer schools that had opted to host an online graduation ceremony at the end of the 2019-2020 school year.  However, in light of an increase in COVID-19 cases in the United States and Massachusetts Governor Charlie Baker’s newly implemented travel order, by early August, it became apparent that it was no longer realistic for Deerfield to graduate its 204 12th graders on campus. On August 9th, Deerfield hosted a historic online Commencement to celebrate the Class of 2020. When brainstorming methods to hold commencement, Dr. Austin said, “Everything we’ve done, every decision we’ve made, every question we have asked, has foregrounded the health and safety of the community… but at the same time, we have our own distinctive educational mission and culture, and we’re trying to preserve as much of that as possible.”  For the health of Deerfield’s community and Commencment’s distinct experience to be maintained, online was the most fitting format to host the event. Assistant Head of School for Student Life Amie Creagh said, “We wanted it to be as shared and inclusive as possible and the virtual [Commencement] was what offered closure.” Ms. Creagh commented that the administration also considered hosting a hybrid model Commencement where students who were able to attend in person could come to campus while others would participate virtually. However, Ms. Creagh wanted to “make sure everybody could be together, even if that’s in a virtual space.” With this idea in mind, the Office of Advancement, the Communications Office, and the IT Department set out to create a virtual Commencement that would offer some closure to the Class of 2020.  Director of Alumni Relations Jennifer Hammond was at the helm of the effort to coordinate and oversee all that went into the event. In a normal year, Ms. Hammond oversees an entire week of graduation celebrations.  Ms. Hammond and her team made it their mission to incorporate the essence of the graduation ceremony to a virtual platform. Ms. Hammond said that “the key word is celebration… this class has just been amazing, they have gone above and beyond in so many ways, when they were on campus and off campus, finishing out their year, so I really, really wanted to celebrate them.”  The Commencement featured a timelapse of the construction of the green and white tent that traditionally houses Commencement. Izzy Hamlen ’20 said, “I really appreciate how hard [Ms. Hammond and her team] worked to make our departure something to remember.” The video then shifted to drone shots of the rock as a bagpipe could be heard in the background. Viewers watched as Mr. Goodchild stood at the tip of the rock, playing his bagpipe with the view of Deerfield’s campus visible below him.  The Commencement ceremony began in a traditional format. The speakers thanked the Class of 2020 for their legacy and expressed hope for the future. President of the Board of Trustees Brian Simmons acknowledged that this Commencement will likely become a “special part of Deerfield lore.” Dr. Austin stood in front of the iconic wooden door on the front of the John Williams dormitory applauded the Class of 2020’s resilience during “these unexpected, uncertain, and disorienting months.”  Student body Co-President Kareena Bhakta ’20 and Nick Fluty ’20 were the students chosen by their class to speak at Commencement. Both reflected on their time at Deerfield and how much they had grown since their 9th grade year. Bhakta ’20 remarked afterward that filming her speech “took some time to capture the video and audio correctly, but both Ms. Hammond and Mr. Laprade were very supportive.” The keynote speaker for this year’s Commencement was Hannah Pittard ’97, acclaimed novelist and professor at the University of Kentucky. In her speech, Pittard congratulated the class of 2020 and said, “We can’t move back, we can only move forward.” Assistant Head of School for Academic Affairs Ivory Hills then read the names and awards for each graduating 12th grader. In most years, 12th graders would walk on stage and receive a diploma, but this year the Communications Office sent out diplomas once Commencement went virtual. Hamlen said, “It definitely was not Commencement, but coupled with the farewell Zoom call back in May, and the Senior Video, I think it was a great final send-off.” The ceremony concluded with a few more surprises. As the credits rolled down, a familiar woman with long blond hair appeared on the screen: “Hi you cool cats and kittens, it’s Carole Baskin!” Even Carole Baskin, reality television sensation, had been invited to wish the class of 2020 well. As she finished her message, another image appeared, featuring Leslie David Baker, the actor of Stanley Hudson in “The Office” television show, offering his encouragement. But this was not all. The cherry on top was a video clip played at the end of the broadcast, of none other than Dr. Austin cruising happily down Main Street on a skateboard. The celebratory mood of these last special touches reminded the Class of 2020 that they are loved by all of the Deerfield Community, and that their accomplishments are worthy of great celebration. Bhakta said, “Overall, it seems the organizers of our Commencement were involved in every detail to make it as special as possible for our class.”

As Black Lives Matters protests spread across the nation, the Deerfield community has been discovering its own voice in the conversation about social justice. Current students and alumni alike have promoted online conversations and social media initiatives, brought to light the experiences of Black Deerfield students through @blackatdeerfieldofficial, reincited demands to improve the disciplinary system for dealing with acts of discrimination, and formed the Deerfield Anti-Racist Coalition. In the beginning of summer, Jerry Zhou ’22, Jerry Yuan ’22, and Holden Woodward ’22 received a CSGC grant to create Youth Global Action, an initiative focused on hosting online symposiums regarding racial injustices and COVID–19. Over the course of June, more than 45 students in different schools from China, Australia, India, and the UK attended the event to discuss “Racial Injustice Among [the] Covid-19 Pandemic.” Panelists included Washington Post award-winning author John Pomfret and DEER advocate Sam Crocker ’19, among others. Yuan explained that the purpose of the conference was to “raise awareness and encourage discussion amongst people of our age.”  While the Youth Global Action team helped educate students around the world, Abby Lupi ’18 focused on demanding change from the Deerfield administration. Lupi organized a campaign called “Flood the Inboxes” that invited students to email the administration to respond to the demands of students and alumni. These petitions asked Deerfield to prove its dedication by making monetary contributions to Black Lives Matter, match student donations to the Massachusetts Bail Fund, divest from racist organizations, and donate to other organizations focused on addressing racism.  As blackat_pages swept through the private school system, a group of Deerfield alumnae, Alexia Baker ’19, Jennifer Brown ’19, Chelsea Egu ’19, Jada Howard ’19, Chenelle Jones ’19, and Aminata Ka ’19, were inspired to create their own, @blackatdeerfieldofficial. The account posts anonymous submissions from current students and alumni detailing their encounters with racism.  The posts on @blackatdeerfieldofficial span thirty years of racism at Deerfield. “It is shocking at times… The content remains the same because little has been done by the administration to foster the change we wish to see on our campus,” the account’s team said. “We have received lots of gratitude from non BIPOC for opening their eyes to the reality of campus life and for causing them to reflect on their time at Deerfield and how their words and/or actions may have negatively affected someone,” the team added. CNN, the Boston Globe, and Boston Magazine have featured the account, which has now amassed more than 2,200 followers. The jarring experiences presented on @blackatdeerfieldofficial galvanized many people to take concrete actions. Adebisi Akilo ’21 said, “After people started reading about George Floyd and [@blackatdeerfieldofficial] took off, we have had a total of 400 people, [including] half the student population, sign the DEER petition.” DEER stands for Discipline, Education, Empowerment, and Reconciliation. One of the most heavily demanded changes from current Deerfield students and alumni, DEER is a proposed new disciplinary committee focused on addressing identity-based discrimination as a part of the disciplinary process. The concept of DEER was first presented to administration last October by five students and alumni. “Unfortunately, the school did not see DEER as a necessity as they didn’t think it was a pressing social issue,” Akilo said. “After the disturbing hate speech in the Hess in winter, they became more interested in DEER.” A lack of conversation in the past has been a source of frustration. “We are tired of the same old Deerfield,” Akilo said, “After a racist, homophobic person scrawled hurtful words on the Hess’s windows, the administrators were not responsive enough. That Wednesday, during the school meeting, they let us out 25 minutes early. They could have taken the time to denounce what happened.” To educate more students about the racism at Deerfield, another group of students and alumni founded the Deerfield Anti-Racist Coalition (DAC) in the wake of @blackatdeerfieldofficial’s efforts to foster a social, academic, and institutional anti-racist culture on campus. According to its website, the Deerfield Anti-Racist Coalition “serves to unveil past discrimination and demands thorough guidelines, measures, facilities, classes, and overall rhetoric that is explicitly antiracist and that uplifts the voices of students of color in our community.” As part of a teach-in series, the coalition is hosting webinars to educate the community. The first webinar, the “Legacy of Slavery at Deerfield,” featured Joanne Melish, a professor of U.S. history at the University of Kentucky, and alumnus Osman Khan ’91. Melish and Khan talked to approximately sixty students about the history of slavery in broader New England as well as the histories of enslaved people who lived on Main Street on sites that Deerfield currently operates on. “It is an uncomfortable but necessary discussion…” said one of DAC’s founders, Fernanda Ponce ’19. “The relationship between slavery and New England is much harsher than we might believe. There are many things we need to uncover.” A recording of the first webinar as well as a second webinar which occurred on July 29 titled, “Black Voices in the Curriculum,” can be found on the IGTV section of the Deerfield Anti-Racist Coalition’s Instagram page, @daantiracistcoalition. The Coalition will be hosting a town hall on August 5 to create “a space for students and alums to discuss what they want from DA, and an opportunity to hear and provide input on the demands that will be presented to DA admin,” as stated on their Instagram. On June 23,  Head of School John Austin responded to the testimonies on the @blackatdeerfieldofficial page. “Deerfield can and will do more… I will listen and hear you,” Dr. Austin wrote in a statement sent to students, faculty, and parents. The administration did not respond to our request for comments.  While the administration has not officially responded to calls to implement DEER, they have met several times with various alliance leaders, including Akilo, to discuss how Deerfield can do better next year. Since the initial course listings, Deerfield introduced a new senior history class “Africa through the Lens” and renamed ninth-grade English class from “Voice and Vision” to “Voices and Visions of Justice.” These course additions and modifications echo calls to “educate students on how to navigate increasingly diverse spaces” as brought by Angela Osei-Ampadu ’21 in her Scroll article “Uprooting America’s Second Virus,” and supported by many others. Additionally, the Student Life Office hosted two webinars, one for all students titled, “Making Sense of the Moment We’re Living” as well as one for students of color titled, “Being a Person of Color in the United States and at Deerfield.” Both sessions were led by Rodney Glasgow, Head of School at Sandy Springs Friends School in Maryland and founder of the Glasgow Group – a group of consultants guiding schools towards change with a lens of “diversity, equity, and inclusion,” as described on their website. “It was really interesting to hear the persepctives of the white Deerfield students, and how they are going to try and be more helpful as an anti-racist advocate… [Dr.] Glasgow taught me that an ally does not stand in front of the people, protecting them, but stand behind or next to them — it’s not about the ally, we’re just there for support,” said William Sussbauer ’23. While these conversations are helpful, Ponce wants more community participation. “The institution needs to provide students facing inequities and discrimination at Deerfield a voice. Yes, the school hosts discussions, but the people who go to these discussions are POC and allies, not the people who need to be there,” she said. So where can we go from here? “Allow this moment to radicalize you,” said Akilo. “Engage with your parents and older generations who aren’t being exposed to the news and tell your parents to sign the DEER petition.”

This summer, two Deerfield musicians, Willow Woodward ’22 and Christina Li ’20, have been hard at work writing, producing, and releasing original songs. Their work has been met with praise from friends, mentors, and fellow musicians alike. Woodward’s latest single, “For the Love”, was released on July 4, 2020, about 7 months after her debut single, “Superman.” Woodward’s goal in writing “ For the Love” was to celebrate the importance of love in a person’s life, and to capture the precious feeling of being with those you love. She believes this theme is especially necessary now, given the current state of the world. “If you look at the world right now, there is so much hate and fear and intolerance,” said Woodward. “This song is meant to show people what it’s like to be brought together in harmony, through music.” Siobhan Kelley ’22 agreed that “For the Love” represents more than just romance. “It feels to me that it’s about living in the moment, enjoying life, and feeling grateful for everything you have,” said Kelley. “That’s how Willow treats life, which is so rare these days, and I think that’s really special.”  Just four days after its release, “For the Love” had already been streamed over 1,000 times on Spotify. It has already been featured on various music blogs as well as on FM radio campaigns. Woodward is not a stranger to such accolades for her work. Since its release in December, “Superman” has gathered over 15,000 streams on Spotify and over 2,500 views on Youtube. It has also been on a radio campaign that reached 1.4 million people.  Throughout her life, Woodward has informally written and recorded many songs. She chose to keep these drafts between herself and her family, but since her beginnings in official music production and working with a songwriting mentor, she plans to release more of her work. She hopes to put out an album around Christmas 2020, made up of about seven to nine songs. The album will reflect her pop-oriented roots with hints of indie style that has characterized both “Superman” and “For the Love”.  Having already released a single, Li will release her first EP, Strings , later this summer. It is composed of seven songs, each playing a part in representing the greater whole of her journey of self-questioning and growth throughout the years. When naming her EP, Li was inspired by a detective’s mystery board. She envisioned an eclectic mix of photos and information pieced together using strings, and in a similar way, her EP strives to connect the many different facets of her identity.  In December 2018, Li released her debut single, “Young and Reckless”. She said String s is somewhat of an extension of the single, featuring it as the first track of the EP to represent the beginnings of her self-exploration.  During Li’s sophomore year, she partnered with Thomas Lyons ’21 to perform “Young and Reckless” for a Deerfield audience. It was an experience that encouraged her to pursue songwriting more seriously.  “After that live performance, Christina spent a lot of time in the studio finalizing ‘Young and Reckless’, and I remember one Sunday we spent eight hours in the studio recording the drum track for the four minute song,” said Lyons. “Golden”, the last song on the EP, is one that Li particularly likes because of her cathartic experience of writing it. It is a seven-minute piece featuring vocals and guitar, about her experience of dealing with privilege and “growing up ‘perfect’ in an imperfect world.”  “It reminds me of a Deerfield senior meditation,” said Li, “in the way that it is sort of fragmented and nonlinear, while staying personal to me.”  Li described her process of writing “Golden” to be particularly refreshing. “It is unlike anything I’ve written before. I actually originally wrote the lyrics as a poem. It is also longer than any other song I’ve written. It all just flowed out of me when I sat down to write it in May,” she said. The Deerfield community is excited for the future of these two up-and-coming artists as Woodward’s “For the Love” continues to gain publicity and Li prepares for the official release of Strings .

*Disclaimer: I provide a part of my perspective of things I felt, things I experienced at Deerfield.  I feel hesitant writing this because now is probably not the time to be recounting my observations at Deerfield. But I do believe that Deerfield’s classist tendencies and subtle disparities in the treatment of its students contribute to problems that need to be fixed. If the school puts solutions into action to address these issues, first-generation students, low-income students, students of color, and students with intersectional identities will no longer have to feel, whether intentionally or unintentionally, isolated and targeted by their set of identities. If Deerfield takes a decisive step in addressing its problems, its history, the community can begin a process of healing that is inclusive of everyone.  Part I: “Be Worthy of Your Heritage” – Seven Unspoken Rules Be silent. (Which I’m not) See something, say nothing. Besides, who would you go tell it to?  If you speak, remember to keep white peers’ comfort in mind.   Shush, don’t make so much noise.  Isn’t it sad that noise is always followed by silence? Or that noise can be turned against the people that make it? Be grateful. (Which I am) Being a boarding student at Deerfield for a school year is $64,640.* The cost of attending Deerfield is more than your family’s adjusted gross income in a single year. Four years at Deerfield is the equivalent of $258,560. Imagine what you could do with a little over a quarter-million dollars. $258,560– invested in YOU… Now, should you really be complaining?  *According to the Deerfield website: https://deerfield.edu/apply/tuitionfinancial-aid/ Be compliant.  It’s not your place to disagree. Refer to rule number one. Buy-in. (Which I eventually did) Lighten up, will you? Buying-in to the traditions of the Boyden days will help ease your sense of uncertainty about this place. Remember the cultish ritual of Choate week? It was uncomfortable, but you stuck through it. “Good times.” And the dress code? You never really invested your energy into changing that one, did you? Soon you’ll learn to love the imperfections that will not change. Be happy. (Which I learned to be) Deep down, you may be faking some of your happiness, but what does that matter? Fake it ‘til you make it. Smile for the cameras. Refer to rule number three. Be perfect. (Which I will never be) Self-explanatory. Donate. (I’m stalling) You were so well behaved! Good for you. Consider matching a David Koch donation for the next kid set to take your place? Part II: “Hi, my name is Fernanda, and I’m from Chicago.” – Experiences of an Impostor  “When is [Deerfield] gonna realize that these ‘diversity, equity, and inclusion’ groups do nothing to address [Deerfield’s] decades-long, deep-rooted racism problem? And when is [Deerfield] gonna realize that putting the burden on students of color to run these groups in an attempt to solve [Deerfield’s] problem created by white students and faculty is actually a direct manifestation of the racism within the institution?  And when is [Deerfield] gonna realize that the hallways are cesspools plagued by classism where students who pay full tuition and wear Gucci belts….are constantly tearing down the livelihoods of kids on scholarship, who, no, can’t donate to your “non-profit”…while you sit there with billions of dollars to your name that you could easily donate and solve the problem you claim to care so much about… The scholarship kids who…start to question their worth and whether they deserve to be within those brick walls in the first place. The kids who feels a tinge go down their spine when they notice the group of rich white girls huddled around their desks going online shopping for $500 Golden Gooses and chit chatting about which Chanel purse to buy from The RealReal [or equivalent] during a discussion about class and race…” Piece written by current student at Francis W. Parker, a private school on the North Side of Chicago. Originally published on June 26th, 2020 via @fwpanonymous ’s Instagram page. The post was modified to reflect the name “Deerfield” in place of “Parker”. … In 2015, after my parents and I had said “yes” to Deerfield, we attended a welcome reception for newly admitted students at a country club in the northern suburbs of Chicago. (It was the first time in my life that I had ever stepped inside a country club, which should already say a lot about my networks at the time, as well as my socioeconomic status.) At the country club, I met the other “new” students, most of whom were white, and who, in one way or another, already knew each other. In talking to them, but mostly just listening to the conversations they had with one another, I learned that they were all from the wealthy suburbs of Chicago, graduates of incredible elementary and middle schools that they had tested into at the age of five, and legacies of Deerfield and some of the best colleges in the country. I was the only brown kid. I came from a neighborhood no one had heard of. I had graduated from a predominantly Latinx school, where I was the only kid to go to boarding school. My parents did not attend college.  At the reception, while debating which fork to use for the salad, and which fork to use for the entree, I kept glancing at the adults’ table. I was afraid my parents’ so-so English, their lack of education, and their lacking professional background, would somehow find a way to embarrass me in front of the other kids and their parents. Besides worrying about potential humiliation, I wondered how my mom and dad felt being surrounded by the mostly white and wealthy moms and dads, with impressive kids, impressive cars, and pure comfort when entering the country club space. I was part of the first Rising Scholar cohort at Deerfield my freshman year, meaning I arrived on campus before my one hundred other classmates. The first official move-in day, as I watched parents bring neverending boxes of belongings into their child’s new boarding room, I felt empty. I yearned for my family, my parents, who had all left days earlier. My parents never attended the advisory lunch with the other freshmen families in my advisory. (Though I was lucky enough to befriend the Howard family there, and they helped refill a lot of my homesick soul.) My parents didn’t get to wave goodbye as I climbed the bus to Beckett. My parents were not waiting for me by the time that I got back. My parents did not reserve their spot at the Deerfield Inn for graduation four years in advance. There was a girl in my hall who called the school during the summer to request the largest room on our floor. From what I understood, she begged for the room, citing concerns over her “messy” habits. (I think in talking with my roommate once, we both agreed that room could have quite possibly been meant for us.) The school conceded to the girls’ pleas, and I’ve always wondered if it was because she was white and her parents had money. Once, she had twenty Amazon shipping boxes delivered to the dorm, and it was then that I understood why she needed the largest room.  After school one day, a girl sitting in the common room felt the need to casually exclaim that she had just purchased a 500 dollar skirt from one of the high-end brands you-only-hear-about-until-you-get-to Deerfield. I did the math. $500 could have covered 20 months of laundry. $500 could have bought me 6 Deerfield sweatshirts from The Hitchcock House. $500 could have bought me two roundtrip plane tickets home– something I longed for badly. I was the only Latinx-identifying student on my hall that first year, and while the other girls bonded over their previous life experiences and similar upbringings, the lake house or country club their family was going to visit that summer, it was difficult to find someone who could relate to missing your mom’s tortas and the livelihood of family gatherings. The other girls didn’t know what it felt like to hear people whispering about you, saying you’re too quiet; they never felt what it was like to be looked at up and down in a dismissive way. I cried myself to sleep countless nights as my loneliness consumed me, unable to express my feelings to a concerned (and frustrated) roommate. That first year was constant questioning of belonging. But one of my proctors, who was Black, always treated me kindly and made an effort to make me smile even on the days I hit my lowest points, and it was through her that I was reassured that things would get better at Deerfield. And they did, sort of, but not really, because I started noticing the things that are never said out loud. Sophomore year, I am certain that there were girls in my hall who thought I was the reason our proctor got kicked out of the dorm, which was, of course, completely false. I wonder: did any of the girls stand up for me when others falsely assumed I was the tattletale? I’m not sure, but I would hope so. Still, it wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t. In high school, people are always finding someone to pin the blame on. Besides, I never made an effort to get to know the girls in my hall and they didn’t quite put in the effort to get to know me, so is it really a surprise that the invisible fingers were pointed my way? A couple years removed from that incident, it makes me laugh. Sophomore year I was wreaking havoc on the structure of my life and mental well-being. Why would I be investing my energy into turning people in for things I wasn’t even aware that they had done? Heck, I couldn’t even take care of myself. What bothers me sometimes about the snitches or the people that are caught is if you’re going to bring a couple people down, why not take the whole boat with you? At Deerfield, the hubs for illicit activities are not as secretive as some people make them out to be– at least, from what I’ve heard. Sometimes it’s as easy as following a little trail of money. But I guess that’s every high school, right? If you don’t want to get involved, it’s simple— just ignore it. Everyone knew that there were always great disparities in the “discipline” received by rule offenders at the Academy. At Deerfield, it was well known among students that if you had money and family connections, you could pull a couple strings to make your punishment more tolerable. Being white and an athlete didn’t hurt either. Before entering Deerfield, I heard that the boys’ swimming team a couple years back had all gotten drunk, but they were not kicked out because of the aforementioned characteristics. Like this case, there are probably plenty more. But everybody makes mistakes and deserves second chances, right? My sophomore and junior year, I was placed at the end of the hall, meaning the two other friends I had signed up to dorm with, one white, one person of color, were at the end of the hall with me as well. I attributed the fact that we were placed at the end of the hall two years in a row to pure coincidence. But then I heard about two students of color who signed up to dorm together and were placed on complete opposite ends of the hall. And one time on my way to my teacher’s office during study hall, I couldn’t help but notice that the girls of color in the sophomore dorm were also placed at the ends of the hall. Isolated phenomena? Probably not. I mean, what are the probabilities of grabbing the same lottery number and being placed in the same spot in the hall two years in a row? And for other peers of color to find themselves in similar predicaments? I resented the blue E&R bags that would pile up at the entrance of the dorms each morning. They were one of the subtlest indicators of socioeconomic class at Deerfield. If you were going to boarding school, wouldn’t knowing how to do your laundry be part of the experience? What always got me was the people whose parents or family members were paying for the thousand dollar service, but who still paid $3 or more each week to wash and dry three articles of clothing. And speaking of clothing, I’ll never forget about the fashion runway left behind by cliques of affluent white girls who hung thousand dollar paintings on their walls. Anyways, slow clap to them; way to show off your riches. But they weren’t the only ones. There were kids who left whole rooms behind. No big deal: they could afford new $500 furniture pieces. Junior year there was a white boy in my Honors U.S. History class who I would occasionally get paired up with for discussion. He would dismiss my points during our conversation, and then say the exact same things I had just said to the larger group. There was one time the teacher called him out for it as he proceeded to rephrase the point I had just made during a general class discussion. The white boys in that U.S. history class always proceeded to talk overtime and try to dominate the floor of discussion, disregarding their other classmates completely. It was always depressing to see that no matter the efforts of the other girls in the class, the class statistics showed that the boys almost always had the upper hand.  In one of my elective classes there was a girl who, from what I understood, came from a wealthy family. I concluded that she felt entitled by her money: asking our teacher permission to read on the carpet, as if we were in Kindergarten, proceeding to waste time in class by talking about things completely unrelated to the class, and laughing in my face when I called her out. I think I was more shocked that my teacher let her disrespect my time and his time. But who am I to talk, right? I did half the readings for the class. But may I offer an excuse? The girl set a precedent for the class; if you have the name recognition and money to back you up, you rule, and the rules she set were treating my instruction time like play time. On an unrelated note, something that has always bothered me is some students’ reliance on private tutors. Apparently, there were students who had started prepping for the SAT with their private tutors as soon as the winter of their sophomore year. My financial aid covered my group tutoring my junior year, thankfully. But to think there were kids light years ahead of me, travelling all over the country to visit schools, having that luxury. But why am I complaining right? If I wrote 20 essays and crossed my fingers, I too could have visited colleges across the country with the fly-ins that they offered. Something I was never quite able to shake off from my time at Deerfield is how the students showed more outrage, spent more time debating the administration, about the dress code than any hateful, insensitive, ignorant, purposeful incident that happened on our campus during any of my time there and since. There were countless girls who wore skirts in protest, and I loved the solidarity among the female-identifying students, but where was that same solidarity to ask the administration to make bathrooms gender-neutral? Where was that same solidarity to talk about Charlottesville? Where was that same solidarity to condemn the racist girls in the freshmen village? Where was that solidarity to condemn the senior boys who dressed up as cholos? Where was the solidarity to condemn racism? Where was the solidarity to uplift the voices of Black students and students of color? While at Deerfield, I often went to the counseling office, and I expressed my deep insecurity for not knowing how to talk to people. Deerfield helped me grow a lot in this respect. In college, I find it easier and more natural to converse with my peers and befriend new people. Of course, I can’t give all the credit to Deerfield. In college, I’ve had the great privilege and fortune to surround myself with more first generation, low-income, students of color who can relate to my background and similar journey in reaching the realm of higher education. But in college, I’ve also found that I am enough. Of course, my college is not immune from its own diversity, equity, and inclusion issues. But it’s nice that there, at least, I can choose to avoid and ignore the culture that so silently and violently tested me at Deerfield Academy. (That’s on occasion though, because sometimes I don’t have a choice when it comes to ignoring the culture.) If I seem to “hate” Deerfield so much, why did I stay? I could have left. There’s no shortage of good schools in the city of Chicago, I suppose. I won’t deny that I thought of transferring. It’s a question I seriously pondered every summer, perhaps more so the summer before my senior year. But how could I quit? When you have $258,560 invested in you, and when that quarter of a million dollars gets you trips across the world, access to premier facilities, connections with outstanding educators, and so many other things, it’s hard to turn down opportunities like that. Especially as a first generation, low-income, student of color. So no matter how much it hurts, sometimes you have to keep going. And I did, accepting accolades and awards along the way. Deerfield does a really good job of promoting the things it’s good at. Once upon a time, I too had the “Top Ten Things I Love About Deerfield” learned by heart.  (Shout-out to Deerfield’s marketing team. They really know how to make people fall in love.) I’ve never hesitated to tell potential and incoming families about all the things I do love about Deerfield. After all, I have to recognize that there are many things Deerfield has and does that no other place in the world can replicate. For example, have you ever been down to the lower fields with the Astronomy Club, looking at an unpolluted sky of Milky Way stars as you bond with other students around a campfire? No, I didn’t think so. But sometimes, to stop myself from idolizing a place, I have to be honest. Truths hurt. And sometimes, truths seem a little bit too recurrent to be coincidental. At the very least, that’s what I think. Part III: Querida Mamá, Querido Papá — La Carta Que Les Debo La semana antes de que me graduara de Deerfield, me encontré el libro de Mafalda que Papá me había regalado mi primer año. Por primera vez desde aquel entonces, abrí el libro, y en la primer página me encontré una foto de ustedes cuando estaban mucho más jóvenes. Me encantan las sonrisas que le dan a la cámara. Sus sonrisas demuestran una felicidad y un amor puro. Al otro lado de la foto, me encontré una nota que me escribió papá que dice: “Con mucho cariño para mi hija Fernanda, deseando que logres tus objetivos en…DEERFIELD 2015-2019.” Y saben que? La foto y la nota me hicieron llorar. No podía creer que por fin estaba a punto de llegar al final que añoraba alcanzar desde que me di cuenta que sin ustedes, me quedaba un vacío no solo en el corazón, sino en el alma. Quizás eso se les haga un poco exagerado, pero por qué creen que deseaba regresar a casa para estudiar el colegio? Mamá, tú siempre me suplicaste: Fernanda, regresa, aquí te encontramos una escuela. Me decías eso  porque te llamaba llorando diciendo que no me podía adaptar, que el ambiente de la escuela y mis clases eran muy difíciles. También me lo decías porque como la hija mayor, la que te hizo madre, te hacía falta en la casa. Por días, semanas, y varios meses, no me viste entrar por la puerta de la casa. No pudiste observar los cambios pequeños que estaban ocurriendo en mi persona mientras crecía y me desarrollaba cientas de millas lejos de casa. Sin embargo mamá, nunca regresé. Me quedé por allá y me enfrenté a los obstáculos que se me presentaron. Papá, tú también supiste lo tan difícil que me fue estar en Deerfield, sin embargo, nunca permitiste que tus preocupaciones tomarán las riendas. Cuando hablaba contigo, siempre me echaste porras y me decías que tu creías que yo podía sobresalir.  Tú, a todo lo contrario de mamá, demostraste entusiasmo por que me fuera a estudiar fuera de casa. Obvio que eso no quiere decir que no me extrañaste o que no sentías el mismo dolor que mamá al no tenerme en casa. Saben algo? Estoy muy agradecida hacia mis maestros y mis guardianes adoptados que me apoyaron mientras que estaba en Deerfield. Pero las personas que merecen más crédito que cualquier otra persona son ustedes. (Pues obvio Fer.) Pero yo jamás les he expresado esto. Una, porque soy una niña malagradecida. Por otra, la excusa de siempre. No tuve tiempo. Una de las cosas de la cuales me arrepiento es no llamar más seguido a casa. La excusa de siempre era o que no tenía tiempo o que no era posible que ustedes entendieran mis vivencias y mis experiencias. Pero esas fueron excusas. Me arrepiento y les pido perdón.  No quiero proporcionar más excusas, pero en verdad, la experiencia de hablar por teléfono no es agradable. Solo te recuerda de lo que no tienes, las limitaciones de esa forma de comunicación. No me gustaba estar repitiendome para que me entendieran.  Algo que me maravilla es que aún con esas excusas que doy, ustedes me quisieron. Y aunque no hablábamos por teléfono todos los días, ustedes me proporcionan un amor incondicional, y es precisamente ese amor incondicional que me mantuvo salva y sana durante los cuatro años que estuve en Deerfield. Me llegaba todos los días, aun siendo que teníamos una distancia de cientas de millas entre nosotros.  Mamá y Papá: gracias por su apoyo incondicional. Gracias por su amor incondicional. Gracias por sus palabras de aliento todos los días que me sentía derrotada y triste. Gracias por sus preocupaciones. Gracias por sus lágrimas. Gracias por sus sonrisas. Gracias por sus llamadas. Gracias por sus textos. Gracias por las innumerables oportunidades de poder empezar de nuevo. Mamá, tu siempre me dijiste que no pasara de noche, que dejara mi huella. Considero que hice esas cosas mientras que estudié en Deerfield. Y mi esperanza es que ahora lo pueda hacer tanto en tu corazón como el de papá.