Reflections

I think part of the reason that I keep getting to bed so late/early is that 12-5 in the morning is really a conducive time for me to do random creative (or at least non-studious) things. The complete silence allows me to sit at my computer and really concentrate, even to the extent that my eyes water and I feel sick if I remain on the computer for too long (does this happen to anyone else?). Despite my knowledge that staying up late hinders my schedule and makes me sleepy the next day, part of me craves the peace and stillness of the late night hours.

I had a pretty late start today, and was further hindered because my yearbook co-editor slept in. Once three o'clock came and I had done my share of work, I left to study. I wasn't as motivated as yesterday, but I eventually was able to haul myself and my book over to Starbucks. Unfortunately, it was more crowded in the early evening than in the afternoon. In addition, this weird elderly couple was around for most of the time I was there; they spoke very loudly and kept speaking to people who were studying and didn't need the interruption. I read a couple of chapters before getting fed up and going home to read another chapter. I still have two chapters to read, but I can do them tomorrow in the morning or afternoon.

I came across the following Los Angeles Times article about my alma mater, Marlborough School, and it caused me a good deal of reflection and frustration, which I will detail here.

First, some notes and context: The article isn't 100% accurate in the picture it portrays; there is a good deal of exaggeration, though I suppose that's true of most articles, particularly in the less journalistic 'lifestyle' sections of newspapers. On a more mundane level, Jim Skrumbis is not the Principal, as the article claims. Barbara Wagner is the Head of School, while he is the Upper School (10-12 grade) Head. Marlborough is a private LA girls' prep school (with uniforms and everything) in Hancock Park, which is a fairly ritzy suburban area right by Hollywood. It's pretty expensive to attend, though not everyone there is super-rich; a few are on scholarship, and those who are not nonetheless vary in the extent of their wealth. I would guess that I fall somewhere in the middle (I know everyone puts themselves 'in the middle', but let's ignore that); my parents strongly believed in getting me a top-notch education and we had to sacrifice to afford it, but it was still within our means to go to a school like Marlborough.

One final note: the processes described in the article didn't really take effect until after I graduated. The school was somewhat disappointed that our class, which held a high percentage of promising students, didn't get the number of admissions to top schools that it should have. After that, it had increased its efforts to appeal to the more exclusive schools; grades became weighted (so that a grade in an honors or AP course would be 'bumped up') and administrators began a 'PR campaign', visiting the elite colleges to increase the school's recognition and reputation outside of California. The article reflects that effort.

And now to my thoughts about the article:
What disturbed me about the article was the patent unfairness of the whole charade. People, at least in the United States, tend to deny class, but it's hard to ignore it in this case. Equality of opportunity and meritocracy are touted as very democratic and 'American' ideals, yet the institutions in which these ideals should be stressed the most are compromised by those who are in power. Though the modern 'aristocracy' can't pass titles and status on in an obvious manner, elites continue to perpetuate themselves through these more subtle means.

I suppose this should come as a surprise to nobody, but the fact that this article deals with my own high school just makes it hit home. I have to come to terms with the fact that I have reaped huge benefits from these very inequalities, even if not to the same extent as later graduating classes did. I had the good fortune to be allowed many opportunities that others would find hard to come by, and the very fact that I can sit in a nice dorm room and ramble about this speaks to the luxuries that I take for granted. It's hard not to feel guilty or undeserving, but even guilt is self-indulgent in its peculiar way, and in any case feeling guilty doesn't do a thing to make things better. I think the most sensible reaction is to fully acknowledge my luck and do whatever is in my power to improve the situation, even if the idea of one person tackling social inequality is a wee bit ridiculous.

I'm sounding like a pretentious blowhard, so I'll shut up about the article now.

Perhaps I should share my reflections about my high school sometime; it would be interesting...