My Persuasive Essay- Why We Should Reinstate an Open Campus

(I have chosen to not post my intro and a few other sentences, as some may find them offensive)


“The welfare and safety of our students is our first priority,” “safety is the primary reason,” and, “the location of our school is not conducive to an open campus” are three of the main arguments school authorities have made against open campus. These arguments are reasonable in that school officials do not want to be held accountable for irresponsible actions students take off school grounds. However, the effects of disallowing adolescents to go out into the “real world” during school hours, are severely limiting students’ ability to make responsible decisions independently. One parent from North Shore said, ''I don't think kids learn responsibility by leaving school, and parents who work like to know that their children are in school and are safe.'' This statement coincides with my belief that the effects of closing campus are severely sheltering and over-protecting young adults. It is completely rational for parents to worry about their children, but there comes a point in life when parents must minimize the amount of decision-making they carry out for their children, and balance their fears with the need to prepare kids for independence in the coming years.
According to the New York Times, many Long Island high schools decided to implement an open campus ten years ago because of inadequate space to accommodate large numbers of students. In more recent years, Great Neck South’s population has tripled, and many changes have been made in order to satisfy the needs of the student body and faculty. These changes include the discarding of daily period changes, which added a variety in the weekly class arrangement, the addition of periods three through eight as lunch periods, and the transformation of the GP room into a classroom. The GP room used to be a quiet area in which students could socialize, do homework, and eat lunch. Now, the GP room is still a place for students to buy lunch, however, they now must find somewhere else to eat. The main hall is generally full during lunch periods, the library does not permit food, and the cafeteria is not pragmatic for those who wish to do homework because the noise level is generally above what most students find reasonable to concentrate. Recently, a friend and I who usually sit in the hallway to eat lunch were told that we had to find another place to eat. Our school does not sufficiently provide enough locations for students to eat lunch. Having an open campus would permit seniors to get a lunch that satisfies their social, educational, and spatial needs.
Moreover, at age eighteen, adolescents are not only recognized as potential drivers, but they are legally able to vote, sign contracts, get married, enlist in the army, and make other life-changing choices. In these cases, the law recognizes eighteen-year-olds as mature adults who have the ability to make responsible, independent decisions. Why then should it be the school’s responsibility to keep these “mature adults” safe? Shouldn’t it be the student and the student’s parents’ responsibilities to ensure that this “mature adult” is driving safely? Also, a school is an institution maintained by the state. The state legally recognizes licensed drivers as people who have the ability to make accurate decisions on the road. It is not the school’s place to decide that all seniors should have to wait until fourth quarter to use their licenses effectively.
There are many ways to maintain an open campus. One effective plan includes making a rule that the only seniors who are allowed to leave are those with two consecutive free periods. This guarantees plenty of time for students to buy food and return to school without rushing. If parents do not want their child to leave campus, they can simply ensure that their child does not have two free periods in a row by contacting their child’s guidance counselor. In order to promote this parental consent, parents should be sent a letter that asks whether or not they permit their child to leave campus. If the parent consents, special lettering should be typed on the child’s school ID card. This way, we can adopt the policy of Commack High School where the student who leaves campus gives his or her ID to the security guard at the gate, and only upon arrival back to school receives the card. This ensures that students will not cut classes, and will effectively keep track of who leaves campus. The vice-principal noted that it would be difficult for parents to say no. In this situation, it is the parent’s prerogative to give consent or not, and gives him or her full responsibility for doing so.
This paper is meant in no way to disregard the families who have suffered losses through open campus policies. However, it is meant to remind parents, administration, teachers, and all others opposed to open campus that society cannot hold anyone but the driver accountable for his or her irresponsible actions on the road. There are many benefits to having an open campus, and it can easily be regulated.

Superstitions.....?

A famous coach once said, “If it works once, do it again.” I’m sure you can apply that to many aspects of your life, but I can relate this to one aspect of mine. It was about the end of 8^th grade when I began competing in fencing. Since then, I have developed many superstitions that I strongly adhere to.

Over two years ago I received a gift of an Adidas soccer shirt. Due to its sweat absorbing characteristics, I began wearing it to every significant competition. Of course I haven’t done well in every competition, but in the competitions where I did not bring it, or wear it, I did not do well at all. However, recently I received a T-shirt from mom as a souvenir when she returned from Paris. I felt that almost 3 years of wearing the same Adidas shirt it was finally time to retire it and try something new. This new Paris shirt will be my new lucky competition shirt. Of course felt like there was some risk involved because if I did not do well then I would never forgive myself for not bringing along my old Adidas shirt. I first wore the new “Paris Shirt” at an Under 19 and Division I North American Cup in Kentucky. Here, I fenced the best I did in my life. I beat several strong people, one ranked #4^th in the United States at the time and another who was on the national team the year prior. Additionally, I narrowly lost (15-14) to the Canadian National Champion who was ranked top 20 in the world. I guess you can’t call losing (15-14) luck, but if I wasn’t fencing well it could have been really bad. Now I bring that shirt with me everywhere. However, recently I decided not to wear the Paris T-shirt and go back to my old Adidas one during an important competition in New Mexico, I lost, horribly.

So you may think that this is all a coincidence, but, last June my mom wore a pink shirt that no one thought anything of. It was at the 2008 Nationals, where I got top 16 in the under 16 age group and won Division II. During the 10 day period that I was in California, my mom was wearing that shirt both days (washed of course). Since then, every U16 national competition I’ve been to my mom has worn that same shirt and I’ve increased my national ranking. She has even worn it in Germany and Sweden at U16 World Cups where I’ve participated. Several months ago I had to travel to St. Louis by myself. My superstition was so strong about that shirt that I threw it in my suitcase and took it with me to St. Louis. Even on the day of competition, I put the shirt in my fencing bag, and I did well again.

Even the great Michael Phelps (pre drug use) has superstitions. Before every race he swings his arms back and fourth twice. In an interview, Michael said that he has never won a race where he’s forgotten to swing his arms. Unlike me, Mr. Phelps usually remembers. A few months ago my grandmother gave me a little necklace that is supposed to bring me good luck. I believe strongly that you need to have a little luck on your side, thus I enthusiastically accepted it. When I compete I always keep this lucky necklace it in my fencing bag and find the time to touch it before every bout. It may seem a little silly but every time I have forgotten to touch it I’ve lost. Once in the middle of a bout I remembered that I had forgotten to shake the lucky necklace. I made the referee call halt, and I ran over to my bag to touch the necklace. When the referee asked what I was doing I told him I was getting a tissue. Unfortunately, the referee gave me a yellow card and I eventually lost (15-14) to the #1 ranked under 17 fencer in America. I feel that if I had remembered to touch the necklace before the bout started I would have won. I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence but really believe that it is an important factor.

Another routine that I do the night before an important competition is read a book. Not just any book, but a book written by Aladar Kogler who happens to be a sports psychologist at Columbia University and fencing coach at my club. It contains strategies for fencing and controlling your emotions during a competition. Before I had this book I was very inconsistent and unable to fully concentrate on the task at hand. According to Dr. Kogler I had too much “negative energy.” After I analyzed the book, it has completely changed my attitude and concentration during a competition. Every night before an important competition I read short excerpts from this book, no matter how late. One time I got back from dinner and felt enormously tired. My mom told me to go to sleep, but I managed to take out my book and read a few chapters. I felt that it won’t matter how much sleep I get because if I don’t read the book I won’t be mentally focused and none of my fencing actions will work the next day.

One last superstition that I have acquired in the last few months is verbal. For those of you who don’t know, it’s quite common in fencing for people to yell out when they got a good touch in a bout. This is similar to football players when do their little victory dance or pound their chest after making big catch or touchdown. For fencers it could be anything, often times people make up words and yell at the top of their lungs, which can actually be quite entertaining to watch. Yet, anytime I have yelled the phrase “Come On” in the middle of a bout I have lost 15-14. This happened twice, once against the top U19 fencer from Canada mentioned earlier and a little Slovakian kid when I was in Sweden. Now I even tell spectators not to say “Come On,” but say something a little more preferable such as “Lets Go.” An example of this was during the county final of my High School League. Our coach was yelling “Come On” to a team member who was losing and was in the deciding bout of the county championship. I told the coach not to say “Come On.” He looked at me perplexed but eventually obliged. After that moment my teammate came back from a 2-0 deficit and won 5-3.

It’s nice to know other athletes have superstitions like I do. I know people who also wear the same shirt and others who wear the same socks at every competition. Of course they can get quite smelly if you neglect to wash them but it’s a sacrifice that we are willing to make. Living with superstitions makes my job as an athlete a little bit harder, but it is comforting to know that in the heat of competition I have a little luck on my side.

-C. Fishler

Majestic Beauty (rough draft)

His hands clenched the paper stub, eyes stuck on the television screen watching the progress of number 13 - Majestic Beauty was her name. And by God, was she a beauty. Dark, long slender legs galloping upon the sodden earth and a tail catching the sun, golden filigree weaved into the black tangle. She’d been last out of the stalls, but she’d caught up as he’d known she would. She passed the ones lagging at the back easily and her jockey gripped his knees against her side tighter to ascertain his sturdy position.

The commentator rehearsed in excited tones the progress of Majestic Beauty and the crowd seemed to surge forwards as one, as if to gain a better perspective. She was the least favorite of the twelve running today, but Greg had had his eye on her for some time. He’d watched her fall in her last race. Not a bad trip, but enough to get her to the bottom of the list today obviously. It wasn’t common for horses, who fell to race again, but she had and Greg was only too thankful for that. His heart fluttered and then it happened. She passed the favorite who was at the head of the pack, and she stampeded the rest of the way, cutting through the finish line.

Cries of rage and disbelief erupted in the smoke-filled betting shop as the men loosened their grip on yet another ticket and let it fall to the floor. Failed again by the racetrack they left hurriedly as if by rushing out, the lost money (and faith) would be less of an insult to their names. Greg stayed though, paralyzed. Beauty had come in at 25-1. He’d bet $50. His earnings weren’t hard to work out. Sixty-three years old and $2,500 richer. Now that’s a profit.

He’d splurged all his savings on this one bet, hadn’t even been to the betting shop for the last few months because he didn’t want to waste the money. He needed it for Majestic Beauty, and she’d come through for him. Spurred into movement by this thought, he ambled up to the counter, a sly smile complimenting his sagging cheeks and lost eyes.

Once he got home Greg put his winnings in his wife’s old treasure chest amongst the broken clasps of earrings, the many crumpled papers carrying short attempts at poetry, and her death certificate. He propped the picture of her up atop the money though he knew it’d only fall down once he closed the lid over. But that wasn’t the point.

He’d dreamt of her six months ago and it was a dream of pleasant memories encumbered by rising voices that would later be retracted and solved by tender kisses. Anyway, in the dream, she’d been yelling at him once more, telling him that if he dared go to the betting shop today, he shouldn’t expect her to be waiting when he got back. He almost laughed at her - the same threat had been made a hundred times before and though she had packed sometimes and left her suitcases in front of the door, she’d never actually made it out herself. Instead, he’d come home to find her washing some dishes a little more roughly than reasonable. He’d walk up behind her, wrap his arms around her waist and whisper in her ear, “won enough to get that necklace you wanted.” And he’d spot the smile creeping up the side of her face and spin her around to hug her. “Pain in the ass,” he’d chuckle.

Anyway, so in this dream, he stood there trying his best to hold the laugh in at her threat and narrowed eyes. In the dream though, she didn’t turn away and run upstairs to begin packing like she had in reality, but she came to him, wrapped her dainty arms around his neck and whispered, “Majestic Beauty, that’s the one.”

When he woke, he recalled every detail of the dream and he held them close to him, trying to preserve them. That day, he’d turned the TV on to see a horse named Majestic Beauty in black and white galloping hard and fast down the track and she was sure to win … until she fell, slamming into the mud and sending fireworks of dirt into the air. That was when he knew what his wife was asking in the dream. She was asking him to have patience and faith and bet on this horse who was sure to have the worse odds in whichever race she showed up in next. He wasn’t worried that’s she’d be put down, somehow he knew her leg would mend and she’d race again just as his wife had known in the dream.

In the here and now, he closed the lid of the chest, heard the tell-tale sound of the photograph falling back to the bottom and he chuckled, “Pain in the ass.