Stuyvesant High School - Indicator Yearbook (New York, NY)

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When asked for her reflections she belligerently replied, “And just what do you mean by reflections anyway?” We moved on. In front of the weight room we came upon the Stuyvesant Sports Information Director (SID). He told us he “only dealt in concrete facts” but that his friend, a booster, was good with abstractions. “I’ll always remember the diver- sity of the student body, the good times and the bad times I shared with all the dear, dear friends I’ve made here. They’ve all been so good to me, sometimes I coidd just, just . . . Oh, I’d better stop before I start to sound corny.” From the weight room it was a short walk to the Spectator office where a sign told us that Spectator was coming out shortly, but no one was inside the office to talk to us. In the S.U., we told a senior that only three percent of our grade had reflected and that it was getting dark outside. He spoke about the Students Rights Council, the blood drive, and the prom, told us the president wasn’t in and that we shouldn’t be worried, because few- er than three percent of the stu- dents had voted in the last election. Feeling better about our reflec- tion collection, we left the S.U. and walked up to the first floor. On the way, we tripped over a couple who told us that they had spent the bet- ter part of four years intertwined on the staircase. Although the dirt was a problem at times, they said they certainly had enjoyed high school. 20 I

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realized they weren’t folk-dancing inside. On the mats, a crowd ofll wrestlers in headgear was watch- ing the coach demonstrate tech- nique on a senior unfortunate enough still to be on Junior Varsity. After he had been turned upside- down by the neck but just before he burned his face on the mat, he was able to tell us, “it’s all in the hips.” Only 762 reflections left and feel- ing confident with our progress, we took the stairs down to the stage where we came upon a plethora of seniors working behind the scenes of this year’s production. An art di- rector told us she spent her time trying to get the paint out from un- der her nails and a sound manager told us he had learned at Stuyve- sant that the totality of the uni- verse’s most pressing existential questions could be understood in terms of a four-letter word begin- ning with “B”. Amidst all the confusion and mulling about, one stage squad member stood tall with his power drill poised and though he ad- mitted, “it was a sad day when we lost cable TV,” he assured us that “squad is still a family and a happy one at that.” In the auditorium, we caught a bit of play rehearsal and managed to ask one senior star for her thoughts. She said she didn’t have too many, but expressed her confi- dence in the play’s success. When asked why, the young thespian said, “Because of me”. It was getting late with 758 se- niors yet to reflect, so we left the auditorium and ran into a debater. -------------------—--------i

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In the lobby, six dancers were re-1 hearsing for the show. Two of them | were seniors. We asked the choreo- grapher, who said she was too busy to reflect and went back to dancing. “No, no, no . . . you’ve got it all wrong. You grab my thigh on three and lift on four. Okay?” Her part- ner nodded. The janitor told us we would have to leave the building soon, so with nobody left, we stepped out onto 15th street and started to- wards the subway. Cletus, who de- scribed himself as a resident of Stuyvesant Park and an honorary student of Stuyvesant High School, remembers singing with other stu- dents but complained about the se- curity guards not letting him go to class. We walked down First Avenue and into the subway station. Away from the school, it occurred to us how much there was to reflect upon at Stuyvesant. We realized there would be much more once Stuyve- sant became part of our past.