For Blazers, a lunch period is much more than just time to eat. It's 45 minutes of nearly complete freedom; a time when students are free to do almost anything they please. It might be a time to catch up with friends, review class notes or just relax and take a break from the monotony of classes. While it's common to see students in the SAC, along Blair Boulevard or outside as the weather gets warmer, students spread all across Blair, forming pockets of culture as they pursue their activities of choice.
They watched it happen nearly 7,000 miles away. A 9.0 magnitude earthquake, accompanied by hundreds of aftershocks, brought entire buildings to the ground, flooded the land with several tons of seawater and expunged thick, dark smoke into the air. They saw an earthquake, a tsunami and nuclear plant explosions taking place in Japan and finally absorbed the heartbreaking reality: This was happening to their home.
Once or twice a week, junior Cecile Drymalski sits cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom. She taps singing bowls and attempts to keep her eyes open as she slips into a meditative trance. These are rituals of Buddhism, the religion that Drymalski follows. But rather than taking the typical path of following her parents into religion, Drymalski has found a faith all her own in order to fill spaces left by not having a religion.
"From a clinical standpoint, have you ever considered getting some help?" Uneasy chuckles fill the aisles at Politics and Prose, Washington, D.C.'s famous independent bookstore, in response to the question from an audience member. But the speaker at the front of the room, a petite woman by the name of Amy Chua, is unfazed.
Where only first names appear, names have been changed to protect the identities of the sources. The conversation was private enough: Mike, a sophomore, casually told a friend that he wasn't supposed to be at the school. The secret should have stopped there. But Mike looked up and saw a teacher walking by. He had overheard. In a flash, all of it – the addresses forged, the documents fabricated, the boundaries crossed – threatened to fall apart. The fear of discovery flickered through Mike's mind, but the teacher's next words erased it: "Don't tell the whole school,” he said, and continued down Blair Boulevard.
Junior Jenny Nguyen's summer trip to Vietnam in sixth grade seemed like an unlikely place to discover a new passion. Agreeing to model in a hair show at her brother's workplace, she was whisked away to hair and makeup and soon found herself confidently strutting down a runway.
Blair is many things, but wild it is not. Its wilderness is limited to the swamp behind the athletic fields and Blair Boulevard between fifth and sixth periods. So for junior Connor Siegel, spending last semester on two-square-mile campus abutting a national forest and encompassing eight different lakes was quite a change.
Senior Danny Catacora glides across the dance floor. He dips his partner, spins and maintains his graceful poise as he dances around the studio. His body moves to the music, staying directly on the beat. His partner's body spins in and out of his steady arms. Later, after the hour-long drive home from the Baltimore dance studio, math and science replaces ballroom music as Catacora delves into his homework.
Sophomores Leah Hammond and Allison Whitney had a major task at hand: cupcakes. The job was, simply, to bake and decorate them, but there was a catch. It wasn't just a couple cupcakes, or a dozen, or even a couple dozen - it was 300.
This is a battle like no other. Javelins soar over the slowly setting sun. Swords bash past shields and fell enemies. Shouted orders, the scratching of feet on dry grass, and muffled thuds permeate the ambient hum of the Interstate. Eventually, an armistice is called. "Five minute water break, guys!" shouts one. Weapons made of Plexiglas, foam and tube socks hit the ground. The fighters sit in a circle and take turns proposing new drill ideas, joking and laughing. This is Dagorhir.
Scrat is everything a 14-year-old girl might want to be. She's positive and understanding, always listening patiently to others' problems. Scrat always knows the right things to say at the right time. In a sense, she is perfect - except that Scrat isn't exactly human. She is the alternate online personality of freshman Tammy Sidel.
The light darkens in the auditorium as students and teachers gather to watch their everyday lives projected on the screen. Teachers recognize the difficult job of teaching in a system focused on testing. Students recognize the stress of their common goal: admission into top colleges and an assurance of a successful life ahead.
It's a bevy of hugs, handshakes and high spirits during lunchtime in math teacher Jacob Scott's room. The room is buzzing as kids clamor over one another to talk to Scott. Unconstrained by class work or lesson plans, Scott and his students discuss anything from world news to students' personal lives, while still finding time discuss the material that will be on the quiz next week.
Soccer could be considered the ultimate team sport: Players pass and defend each other to work toward a common "goal.” In a sport that relies on group identity, two dynamic Blair players set themselves apart from the pack. After a stellar season for the Lady Blazers, senior Sofia Read and junior Jamie Kator kicked their way onto the highly competitive All-State Soccer team.
Junior Larissa Sofia Taaga attended the school in her hometown of Yaoundé, the capital city of Cameroon, but she knew that no degree, no certificate and no qualification would secure her a bright future. Without the government connections needed to secure a job, Taaga saw few opportunities in her home country.
In a classroom tucked away on the second floor, a handful of students gather, leaning on desks and lounging on chairs. They sit at ease, joking and chatting, completely relaxed — a mood that befits the atmosphere of the room. The walls of the room are hung with posters about human rights, equality and tolerance. One features several figures in rainbow neon colors, bearing the legend "Generation Q: Young, Proud, Queer." This room, where the people are friendly and open to all comers, is the meeting room of Blair's Gay-Straight Alliance, or GSA.
It's noon on a Saturday, and cars are streaming into the back parking lot of a boxy brick building on the corner of Piney Branch Road and University Boulevard. Families get off the Ride On bus that stops directly outside and move toward the building's back entrance, where a dark purple awning that reads "Mega Supermarket” covers a long line of shopping carts. Inside a purple booth under the awning, a woman bundled in winter clothing sells food: tamales, taquitos, pan con gallina. A few feet away, families get Christmas photos taken under a crowded white tent. Shoppers bustle up the steps, past a large bulletin board and a giant, bright yellow advertisement for Del Frutal juice. From just outside the doors, the shoppers can hear the twang of guitar music and Spanish vocals.
Freshman Bronwen Tursman breathes deeply, eyes intent on the screen in front of her. With every inhale and exhale she takes, her character in the video game takes another step through the fantastical world on screen. But this is no game - it's an alternative therapy Tursman uses to manage the illness that leaves her in constant pain.
At fourteen years old, freshman Victor Adamson is small and slight. He isn't built like a linebacker, but he has exceptional athletic talent. As a star freshman golfer on Blair's golf team, Victor shows that his size and age are no shortcomings for his gift - an inherent talent and potential for golf.
A sofa or bedside table can easily be taken for granted. But at A Wider Circle, a non-profit organization in Bethesda, furniture has the power to change lives - including the lives of Blair students.
Adults everywhere bemoan the apathy and laziness of the new teenage generation. Cries of "When I was your age" call attention to apparent ignorance in teens, especially where current events are concerned. This opinion was quashed somewhat when Obama's 2008 campaign revitalized and motivated young people, using more student volunteers than any election ever before and bringing back issues that pertain to students. But according to the PEW research center, the number of young Americans that are deeply invested in politics is dwindling. But although this generalization rings true for many high school students today, it's certainly not the case with all of them.
Principal Darryl Williams spent the 90 minutes of fifth and sixth period away from his desk. He wasn't in meetings, he hadn't taken a trip to Central Office, and he wasn't patrolling the halls. Instead, he was sitting in the senior courtyard, conversing with the dozen or so students who filled the tables around him. Their topic of conversation was new attendance policy.
We found 121 results.