By Cassie Fancher
Tuesday:
After meeting we began glass onions. Glass onions are something that we do at the end of every year, a time for everyone to say what truths they know about the people who are leaving. They’re a more honest kind of goodbye, a chance to say exactly what you feel and think about a person before it’s too late to tell them.
Many people, including me, weren’t exactly looking forward to them. Not only because it’s hard to say the absolute truth about somebody and to hear the absolute truth about yourself in return, but also because glass onions signify the imminent end of the year. They are, ultimately, your goodbyes to each of the ninth graders.
We talked about what glass onions really were, why they’re important. We talked about how each comment is only one small truth, one small part of a person. But together the comments are building up to some bigger truth, both about the individual person and about all of us. When all of the comments have been said about all nine of the ninth graders, we should have reached some truth about ourselves, about the best parts of a person and about how to see those things. About how to tell the truth to and about a person so that you might love them more easily.
We pulled out our empty can of Easy Cheese by Kraft, because here at North Branch we support whole foods. After listening to a prolonged rant on the problems with our society’s food choices, we spun the can/bottle to see who would go first for glass onions.
Hannah went first. Everyone said something specific to themselves but the main theme was mostly the same. Almost everyone had noticed her power of reaching out to people, of welcoming them, of making them feel visible or like they had a place inside of the school. She has the power to make people feel good about themselves. Because of that, people realized how much they would miss her, how much empty space she would leave and how much positive space she filled up now.
Then we spun the Easy Cheese can again. Because of the cluttered piles of junk, towering upon the tabletop, and because the Easy Cheese can refused to point at any other ninth graders, this took quite some time.
Finally it pointed at Isabel and we began the first half of her glass onion. Again, everyone had various specific comments that seemed to carry a theme. She had the power to listen to people and to talk about anything, funny, dumb, or smart. People felt like they could come over to talk to her any time and she would always listen to what they said. People who didn’t talk to her often still felt like they could talk to her about anything because she wouldn’t oppose it or say no to it.
We talked about the best qualities of people, about how we should learn to recognize them, to remember a person for them, and then to take the qualities into yourself so that you can begin to embody all of the good things that you see in people around you.
We had a break and then we had lit where we’ve been reading The Catcher in the Rye. We talked about Holden and about how his whole life is spinning on an axis, getting closer and closer to the things that are important to him, that he can understand. First the subway where he talks to the nuns, then to the record shop where he buys his little sister a present, then to the museum of natural history that he used to go to with his class where everything stays in its glass cases and you never have to worry about it changing. And finally to the park that he used to go to skate. The same park that his sister skates at now.
Sometimes it feels like this whole year has been a spiral, coming closer and closer to something that we’re only just beginning to realize. We’ve learned to be with each other and now, in this final spiraling towards the center, we’re seeing all of the things that we’ve completed together, that we’re still completing together. All of the projects are finished or nearly finished. It’s hard to say what the visible marker of our success would be. But now that we’ve come so close to the center, I don’t need any visible marker of success to know that we’ve made something great.
It was raining during lunch but a few skateboarders persevered and could still be seen outside on the patio. I watched them for a while and witnessed Ollie singing a melodious song by Godsmack until Reed politely informed him that it didn’t look like I appreciated his singing/lyrics.
In science we’re working on a fitness trail with different stations that each require you to do various exercises. Hopefully the trail will be done by the end of the year, but really we’re making it for next year when it’ll actually be put into use. Currently we’re working on making the signs describing how to do each exercise and what the point of doing each one might be.
In math the geometry class has been reading Flatland, a lovely book about anarchic, sexist, and brainwashed polygons. The eighth graders had their first math class together this year, something which all of them seemed excited about, and they are determined to make it work well. Determined to make the fact that all of them were together again a reason to celebrate.
Wednesday:
In the morning it was loud, as usual. A few people were flipping through a World Cup Funbook, joyously making fun of the soccer jokes scattered throughout the pages.
Meeting started and we all got quiet. Isabel said that the day before, while she had been at dance, her sister had called her mom from her friend’s house, wanting to know how glass onions had gone because she knew that Isabel had been nervous about them that morning. Hearing that made her realize how much she appreciated and loved having her sister, something that she always knew but that didn’t always fully realize.
Simon said that he had talked to Reed during lunch yesterday. He said he felt bad that they hadn’t talked more over the course of the year but that he was glad that they could still connect. He said it was better late than never. Better to love someone while you have the chance and not to pull away simply because you know they’re about to leave.
At this point, Tal wasted a valuable five minutes by informing us all, repeatedly, that the class we were in was called “homeroom” or “Teacher’s Advisory.”
Then, Anneke told us about swimming and about how the people she swims with ignore her. But, she said, she still loves the sport. She realized that her love for swimming didn’t have to be affected by her interactions with the people who she swam with.
Jesse said that yesterday she saw how much people here love each other and notice good things about each other. Even though we don’t say these things about each other all year, we say them now, just as we’re about to leave.
Edgar was listening to Reed during Hannah’s glass onion. He said that he noticed how much Reed had grown and opened up over his three years here.
Hannah was thinking about that too. She said that the night before she had been working on her self eval and had written about how much she wanted to stay friends with Reed at the high school.
Rider said that as we build the stone walls in the garden, we’re all putting down a few stones, trying to make them as level and as great as possible. We should be doing this all year long. We should always be trying to lay a few stones down in the best way that we can.
We talked about The Mending Wall, by Robert Frost. About how you have to build walls in order to define yourself and your personality. But the walls don’t have to keep people out. In fact, the building of the walls can bring us together just as it brought Robert Frost and his neighbor together for that one day every year when they met to repair the damage that the winter had caused.
Tal told us about Jesse’s tile, which was done, and which had a real heart (or ‘old blood pumper’) on it with a tree growing out of it. Somehow this led into a short discussion of whether or not dragons were real, ending in Jesse reading “The Joy of Writing” by Wislawa Syzmborska.
The Joy of Writing
Why does this written doe bound through these written woods?
For a drink of written water from a spring
whose surface will xerox her soft muzzle?
Why does she lift her head; does she hear something?
Perched on four slim legs borrowed from the truth,
she pricks up her ears beneath my fingertips.
Silence-this word also rustles across the page
and parts the boughs
that have sprouted from the word "woods."
Lying in wait, set to pounce on the blank page,
are letters up to no good,
clutches of clauses
so subordinate
they'll never let her get away.
Each drop of ink contains a fair supply
of hunters,
equipped with squinting eyes
behind their sights,
prepared to swarm
the sloping pen at any moment,
surround the doe, and slowly aim their guns.
They forget that what's here isn't life.
Other laws, black on white, obtain.
The twinkling of an eye win take as long as I say,
and will, if I wish, divide into tiny eternities,
full of bullets stopped in mid-flight.
Not a thing will ever happen unless I say so.
Without my blessing, not a leaf will fall,
not a blade of grass wig bend beneath that little hoof's full stop.
Is there then a world
where I rule absolutely on fate?
A time I bind with chains of signs?
An existence become endless at my bidding?
The joy of writing.
The power of preserving.
Revenge of a mortal hand.
In science we worked on our various projects. I was working on the garden walls, dragging stones over and trying to lay them onto wall, slowly leveling them out until we reached the top layer, the final layer where the thick and thin rocks even out.
In math we’re still reading Flatland. The main character, A Square, is beginning to discover other worlds. First he finds line land, a one-dimensional world that exists on a line. He tries to explain about the second dimension that he knows, but he cannot make the King understand. Next, a sphere from space land visits him and makes him understand, rudimentarily, how a third dimension might exist. As he discovers other worlds, he becomes less accepted in Flatland. And yet he knows more, he’s discovering more. It reminded me of Asher Lev, when Jacob tells Asher that to survive as an artist he must find other worlds. A Square must find other worlds because he wants to expand himself. When you leave North Branch you must find other worlds, continue expanding, even while you retain your old self. To change, you don’t find a new self and lose whatever you might have had. All you have to do is grow, to keep all of the good parts of yourself and to be forever expanding them.
In the afternoon we finished Isabel’s glass onion. Then we moved on to Lydia. Again, hers had a theme. Hers is that she’s perpetually happy, always seeming at ease and comfortable with herself. She’s never actually mad, although she’s known for the multitude of fake fights she gets in. She never blames people or gets angry over pointless things. She doesn’t get grouchy, somehow remaining happy, with herself and with her surroundings. She’s found a way to fill herself up with honest happiness that everyone around her can see.
Thursday:
The bus got to school late because of road construction so everyone was already sitting in the big room when we arrived. When I walked in, we were talking about glass onions again. We were talking about how what we should really be trying to tell the person is what they gave to us. That’s what’s most valuable to them in their life. To know what they are capable of giving to others.
Then Anna told us that during the ultimate game the previous day the team hadn’t been very organized. She had appreciated Miles’ obvious attempts at organizing the team and bringing them together for the final bit of the game.
Henry said that after he had already talked during Lydia’s glass onion he had started to cry, realizing after the moment was over, how much he would miss her. He was thinking about how much we can feel or see after the moment is already over.
Jesse told us that at the beginning of the year she would worry about her writing being bad so she wouldn’t try very hard to make it good. Then she thought about the old man from The Old Man and the Sea. She thought about how maybe he hadn’t wanted to fish in the deep waters but he had anyway. She said that what she had gotten from the old man was that she should always being trying her hardest, that she should always be going all the way, even if it was uncomfortable.
Eric said that Reed wrote a good song for ultimate and that he really liked it even though a few people were opposed to it.
We were then informed that we were throwing down the gauntlet in the nonexistent singing competition during Ultimate Frisbee. A few people yelled like savage beasts before we continued with our meeting.
Edgar said that after Lydia’s glass onion Nathan and Hannah had hugged him and Hannah had told him that all of the North Branchers would always be there to fight for him even when he was at Mt. Abe.
We sang happy birthday to Hannah and me and then Rose said that Anna’s email from last week had been a work of greatness and that you could tell that she had worked hard to make it that way.
Ollie read a poem, which I don’t have, by Alicia Ostriker, and then we started on Henry’s glass onion. This time the theme was about how he’s been a leader this year, about how he’s able to accept a huge range of things and to care about them all. He can make people feel better about themselves and he can make them feel comfortable enough to say anything without worrying that he’ll judge them. He can stay focused on what he’s doing and love whatever he’s doing.
Next we started Nathan’s glass onion. His theme was about how he could switch so quickly from being a loud, skateboarding, people-tackling person at lunch to being completely concentrated and inside of the class. He can be extremely loud and excited and even mildly destructive and he can also have a softer and more loving side. The combination of these two parts of himself brings a necessary kind of energy to the school.
In the afternoon Jeff Wulfman, Nathan and Jesse’s dad, came to school to talk about nutrition and how it related to utopia. We defined food and then we talked about how different our diet was 100 years ago. He told us that to get the amount of minerals from an apple sold in 1914 you would have to eat 30 modern apples. This is because the soil no longer has the same amount of minerals as it did then. It’s also because most of our food is processed or mass produced. In 1900 the average American ate 5 pounds of sugar per year. Now we’re eating about 130 pounds per year. We’re eating so unhealthily that our pets are being fed healthier food than we are. We talked about how in order to live a good life we need to be healthy. Therefore, one of the steps we should take towards utopia should be to eat better and to learn to take care of ourselves.
Friday:
The bus dropped us off even later so I missed whatever meeting we might’ve had. We finished Nathan’s glass onion and began Edgar’s. The theme for his was that he’s always full of new ideas. He’s extremely mature about his morals and beliefs and he likes teaching people about them. But at the same time he’s managed to remain like a little kid in a lot of ways. Because of that, he’s extremely trustworthy and easy to talk to. He becomes a leader in a different way than other people, by making friends with each person and making each individual feel comfortable.
The entire school then cooked an Indian themed meal for the rest of the morning and then sat outside at the picnic tables to eat it. It was a mildly chaotic process but the food turned out well.
In the afternoon we did my glass onion. It was about me, I’m not exactly sure what the theme was, because it’s a lot easier to see in other people.
Near the end of the day we started Reed’s glass onion. Only a few people have gone so far so the theme isn’t very clear yet.
By the time I was doing my clean up job, I had decided that I liked glass onions. They’re somewhat hard for me to do because my strong point isn’t exactly telling people about the good things that I see in them. But if it weren’t for this time, maybe I would never have told them about the good things that I know and see in them. Just like Jesse said during meeting, maybe it’s not comfortable to go all the way, to fish in the deep waters. But the big fish, the real fish, don’t ever swim in the shallow waters.
