If you've been through this process as a senior, you're probably familiar with its tediousness. In the middle of one of your classes, you have to leave to go downstairs to the first floor, where they've turned that spot where students usually sneak out of the school into a photoshoot hotspot. They give you your seating number, and you carry it on you as you traverse through the various backgrounds. Like a Barbie doll, you are adorned with different caps and props, and your arms are moved up and down until they are at the right position for the photographer's needs. After a half hour, you are sent back to class, where you walk in late, dressed in a suit or...dress. About a week later, you are sent sample shots with copyright written all over them. Here are my nine shots. I did not realize they took that many. After looking through them and throwing up or laughing, feel free to comment on which you think is the best one.
September 2009 Archives
Disclaimer: The following entry is a work of fiction.
Lights on. Annie and Allen are standing outside Annie's apartment. Allen is smiling, but the smile is slight. Annie looks ambivalent, maybe even a bit uncomfortable. They are ready to depart.
Allen: Okay, so um, see you tomorrow.
Annie: Okay, see ya.
Annie turns around and starts walking away.
Allen: Wait.
He stretches out his arms. His smile is a little wider.
Annie: Oh, yeah, sorry.
She walks back and hugs him for about a second. Then she turns and enters her apartment. After the door closes, a woman walks past Allen.
Woman: You should have said you loved her.
The woman walks away. Allen doesn't say anything. He looks straight ahead for a moment, puts his hands in his pockets, and begins to walk home with his head down. Lights out.
Here's a great opportunity to help our school. In this financially dismal year, especially for public schools, where classes have been cut, activities have been toned down, and the budget has been low, we need your help in funding our education. Whether you're a student, a parent, a faculty member, an alum, or just someone who happens to pass by this site and knows and loves Stuy, vote here for our school. It's a great way to raise money, share your thoughts about Stuy, and show that we're not just a bunch of academics but also community organizers. Other schools are already leading with close to a thousand votes. With our overcrowded school, I'm sure we can win! Help spread the word with this tinyurl: http://www.tinyurl.com/voteforstuy.
I was in fourth grade when it happened. I was able to see it, hear it, feel it. I was there amongst the sirens, the dust, the confusion, and the general chaos. My grandma acted as a mask, physical and psychological, for my sister and me. She blocked us from the dust and tried to keep us from seeing the towers, but I caught a glimpse of the hole. I wanted to see the towers, but they had already fallen.
This one's for those who ride the subways of New York City. It's for those who don't mind the possibly millions of germs that inhabit the seats, for those who stare at their feet because looking anywhere else would make them look rude, for those who find solace in the rhythm of a moving train, for those who don't mind a show in the car once in a while but can't bear to pay for it, for those who escape the city altogether in favor of a good book, for those who manage the balancing act without holding on to the pole, for those can stand the company of total strangers for an hour, maybe a few hours, every day.
The ever-so-fun Camp Stuy for freshmen was on September 1. For parents, who also had a Camp Stuy of their own, they had to come into school the next day. It's a chance for both groups to get acquainted with our blah little school. We talked to some freshmen and Student Union President Paul Lee about what exactly this sacred, annual tradition entails.
